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Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #2141363
An interpretive story about feeling lost, scared and alone in a world of monsters.
It’s always better in the light. In the light you can see the brightness in the world. You can see your friends and smell the flowers and taste all the fruit that it has to offer. It’s different in the dark. It’s scarier and much more desperate. You can be in the same place you were when there was light but suddenly the goodness is foreign and you can’t find anything to grab hold of. You just stumble around blind. Hoping and praying for something or someone to come along and help you find the light switch, but you don’t really believe in anything, so you know that you’re helpless and that nothing is coming to save you. Your only companions are the monsters lurking in the dark.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I call into the abyss, “I’m lost and I can’t seem to find my way out. Will someone please help me?”

“Well hello dear,” I spin around to find a woman sitting in a white plastic chair, “What seems to be the problem?” She asks as I look upon her thin, almost skeletal figure.

“I was in a garden, a beautiful garden,” I begin slowly, “but then everything started dying and the sun became blacker and blacker until I couldn’t see. I tried to find my way home, but I fell into this pit and now I can’t seem to find anything at all.”

I confide in this mysterious woman. She seems placid and calm at my explanation, but there’s an instinct inside that makes me uneasy.

“Well darling,” she says stepping closer. It’s a proper step, with her heel then toe, heel then toe, “I’m sure I can help…” There’s something eery that I don’t like about this woman, and I find myself backing away in suspense.

Her figure grows as she gets closer, stretching up and elongating her arms, making her frame yet more skeletal than I could imagine. Her pupils take over the rest of her eyes, dilating until I can see no white. She towers over me, a lumbering opponent that I couldn’t possibly face.

“Let’s see if you have what it takes!” She shouts with such force her jaw unhinges. I start to run away. I’m not strong enough to be brave.

Evil laughter comes from all around me. I feel mocked by my decisions, all of them, that ended with me running away from a monster too terrible, I can’t have imagined it.

Suddenly I’m forced to a stop. There’s a gigantic river stretching in front of me. I hesitate and dip my toe in. Seething from the cold I quickly pull it out, but as I withdraw, I see the flow change and start circling around me. The tide picks up and jagged spires of rock peak out of the new riverbed. I’m surrounded.

The waves thrash and I imagine what might be under the surface. There seem to be no rules, and I don’t know how to play this game. Nobody ever taught me.
The circle of dry land around my feet starts to get smaller and smaller and my breath hitches in my throat.

“Help!” I scream, “Somebody help me!” I sob and hug my own chest because nobody is coming to save me and wrap me in their arms. It’s too late for that.

The pool finally closes around my feet and the waters rise rapidly. I shake and shiver as I take a gulp of air anticipating the wave bounding towards me in this sea. It’s above my head and I close my eyes to keep the water out. I pray for God to save me, because I feel helpless.

Suddenly I feel a spike drive up my foot and thrust me out of the water. I scream from the pain and gasp for air, terrified and grateful for the oxygen at the same time. A new type of torture awaits me as I dangle from the rock. I think I broke my ankle. There’s blood gushing into the water and through the red in my eyes I see the tip of a rock through my shoe. I feel foolish for closing them from the stinging water, because that’s nothing compared to the pain I feel now.

I gasp and pant because my pain and fear has evacuated the air from my lungs and I start to feel faint. The pain fades as my vision gets darker and darker. My hearing becomes dulled and my fingers are numb. The water looks thick with my blood, and the last thing I see before falling into sleep is a pinpoint of light, and I question why I didn’t see it before it was too late to find my way out.
© Copyright 2017 Mariella Stift (spacedout0-0 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2141363-But-I-was-too-Afraid