Something was calling me. Something sinister.
It was strange to hear the Voice in the Darkness, not hearing with your ears or your mind but with your soul. It was pulling me, dragging me along whether I would or no. But slowly. The entire incident took place over a period of some years, but the calling had been growing inside of me for much, much longer. Decades, perhaps.
It was night when I finally realized what was going on. Yes, I know, it's always nighttime when these things happen. I think that's because, right before we go to sleep, we're most open to suggestion, and pehaps more aware of our subconscious than usual. Anyway, I lay there in my bed, thinking about the day, wondering what this urging was inside of me. And then, I realized that it wasn't coming from inside of me. I awoke from that half-dream state in a panic, but then I couldn't feel it anymore. So I went back to sleep.
When I awoke there was a presence there. I couldn't see it, I couldn't move, but I could feel it sitting, observing, and calling.
What do you want of me? I screamed at it in my mind. Its only response was its call.
And then, panic overtaking me, I fell unconscious.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Susan's Lie, 1
The clichés had mounted in the past months. There had been a dark and stormy night—two, actually—and a few grey and stormy days. Crime hadn't been paying, not what it used to, and with the growling in her stomach from fasting for several days, Susan was sure she could eat a horse.
Today, however, the sun was as radiant as Susan's blonde hair. Evicted, and on the street, Susan couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day. She strolled unmerrily down the street, humming meloncholy tunes to herself. She had walked this street every day for a year (it was the way to the nearest bus stop), but today she felt as if her feet were lead.
No one had cared, of course, when she had been kicked out of her hovel. She didn't even care that much, since she was drunk on whiskey. That would all change in a day or so.
In the meanwhile, trudging along the sidewalk, street, sometimes bumping into the walls of the buildings she passed, she felt that something had been forgotten. She wasn't sure what it was, or who had forgotten it. It was probably her ex-boyfriend, who, while not a very good lover and tended to punch her when he was angry, had at least left a goodly supply of cocaine when he had disappeared. She'd sold it all—nothing but alcohol had ever altered her state of mind.
Suddenly, she was on the ground, her head spinning. The sky wasn't blue, anymore. Now it was mauve, and then burgundy. Strangely, it turned yellow and then green before everything went black.
Today, however, the sun was as radiant as Susan's blonde hair. Evicted, and on the street, Susan couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day. She strolled unmerrily down the street, humming meloncholy tunes to herself. She had walked this street every day for a year (it was the way to the nearest bus stop), but today she felt as if her feet were lead.
No one had cared, of course, when she had been kicked out of her hovel. She didn't even care that much, since she was drunk on whiskey. That would all change in a day or so.
In the meanwhile, trudging along the sidewalk, street, sometimes bumping into the walls of the buildings she passed, she felt that something had been forgotten. She wasn't sure what it was, or who had forgotten it. It was probably her ex-boyfriend, who, while not a very good lover and tended to punch her when he was angry, had at least left a goodly supply of cocaine when he had disappeared. She'd sold it all—nothing but alcohol had ever altered her state of mind.
Suddenly, she was on the ground, her head spinning. The sky wasn't blue, anymore. Now it was mauve, and then burgundy. Strangely, it turned yellow and then green before everything went black.
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