To Shield Me From Evil

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

when u wake up in a world you do not know..

To Shield Me From Evil
 
By Walker Andreasen
 
The lights flashed on. But then I realized; they had been on all along. I had just woken up. The white brick walls of the room which I lay in were claustrophobic. The florescent lights added the very light blue tint to the room. It was cold.
I looked down to see what I had been sleeping on. But I hadn’t been lying down at all, but, I had been standing up while I was sleeping. I noticed also, I had no clothes on. Oh, how it was cold.
What is this room I’m standing in? I turned and looked for a door, but there were none. I looked at all five walls. Wait, five? I then again looked at the one that looked like it didn’t belong. I went to it, pushed, nay, shoved, and it opened. I stepped outside and the wall closed behind me. I looked back and there was nothing there. I reached out to hopefully touch the room I just came out of. What I saw had scared me, and I wanted the room to protect me, shelter me from the scene which lay around me.
But I touched no wall, and just saw more scene. Just hideous, barren land. Dark gray clouds loomed over head. Where the clouds ended, it met light gray sky. I looked around and noted the colors. Gray met other shades of gray. It may have been dull colors in the shade, but they were still gray.
Then I saw a color in the distance. It was not gray. I took a step sideways toward it then broke into a sprint. I reached where I saw the color but it was gone. I then heard a young girl giggle and I turned and saw her in the park across the street.
I went to her. She was the only spark of color, and hope, I saw. She was sitting there, on the swings humming a random tune, smiling while looking down. In her arms was a teddy bear. Just as I was about to make my presence known, I reminded myself I was not clothed and therefore I looked down, and found I was wearing a garment of some sort.
They seemed like sheets wrapped around me in a togish matter, only more so wrapped. They too, like the rest of this world, were shades of gray.
When I spoke, my voice seemed so foreign, like something lost and now found centuries later.
The girl looked up at me, and smiled sadly.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“Hm? Oh. This is your world. Or at least what you have made of it.”
She pulled the teddy bear up, and held it close to her chest. She laid her head on the top of the bears and then looked out into nothing while a sad grin crossed her face.
“How do I put colors in?” I asked her.
“Happy. Memories.” She said. Then she stood up, and left. I went after her, but she always seemed so far ahead. I ran, but she still walked and getting farther away. I finally slowed down.
What did she mean by happy memories? Then I realized where I was: this is where I live, or rather, where I lived.
I went back to the park and sat on a bench and thought. Then I remembered who that girl was: My daughter.
I wept. But then I realized what she had said. So I went to the swing set and thought of my happiest memory there.
I’ve lived in this community my entire life. My happiest memory was when my mother, long gone and six feet under, took me swinging for the first time at this park. I was 4 then. She had her usual joint in her mouth, but I always thought they were cigarettes. I never believed it was pot until I was 17. But it was a happy memory. I remember her smiling and laughing with me.
I looked back up at the swing set, but it was still an ugly shade of gray. I sighed and leaned against it. With my mothers smile still in my mind, color started to spread from under my shoulder. The color spread like a sticky, splattered ink all across the swing set. Soon, it was the color I remembered it being. Blue bars, yellow chains, and red seats. The wood chips beneath and around the swing set gained color to.
When I saw this, I went around through the community bringing trash cans, houses, everything to life with color.
Then I came to a house. It remained gray, for no happy memory thrived there. The sight of this house overwhelmed me with fear. I cried hysterically, screamed. I so desperately wanted to be away from this house. I dropped to my knees and calmed myself down. I was still crying, but I stood up, with those last few sobs still coming from me, and the last few drops running down my cheeks, falling onto the pavement.
I walkway up to the house was overgrown with weeds. The yard was overgrown as well, it was going to seed. I went to the steps and stopped, looked at them, then ascended. Slowly. One at a time. Still weary of where they were leading me. None of them gained color as I stepped. They only remained gray, but it was not cement gray. No.
When I stepped onto the porch, it remained gray as well. I looked to the left and saw gray. When I looked to the right, I saw my porch swing. I remembered a happy memory there. It was probably the only one for the entire house. My first kiss was on that swing. I was 15. What a wonderful night……
 
I found myself in the entryway of the house. I started to zoom through the house. I thought I was walking, but I was moving as if on wheels. Through the kitchen, the living room, the mud room, and the laundry room. Not a thing I touched gained color. Then I found myself in front of the stairs. I moved up them the same way, as if on wheels. But it was smooth, as if there where no steps. Everything I had touched so far in the house had only turned a darker shade of gray, almost black.
 
Then I came to my room. On my bed there sat a safety item from my childhood. It was in color. I went and laid on my bed. I took the picture and pulled it to my chest and held fast to it, as if I were cuddling it. I then rolled over on my side and closed my eyes and pulled my knees into my chest. I wished he was here to hold me like he did when he was alive. Comfort me from the bad. To shield me from evil.


Submitted: March 09, 2010

© Copyright 2022 Walker Andreasen. All rights reserved.

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