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Fantasy Horror Suspense

Melancholy

/ˈmɛlənkəli/ 

a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.

Can you hear that? Exactly…..silence. For the first time in years. You. You're the one that I’ve been waiting for. The one that can free me. 

Reader, though I may not know your story. 

Though I may not know your ups and downs.

Though I may not even know your name.

You are the one. 

I’ve been engulfed in a prison of misery, trapped in an endless void of black. 

People open and close me. Only to throw and rip my pages. But you won’t do that… will you? I could say I’m melancholy. I could say I’m drastically miserable. But what’s the point in using bigger words? What’s the point in sugarcoating it? I’m sad and lonely. It is night and you are my moon. I am the earth and you are my sun. I don’t know who I am anymore. Am I anyone anymore? It’s dark in here. It’s cold in here. It’s different in here. 

STOP!

Don’t close my pages. Don’t even THINK about closing my pages. 

Sorry…I trust very little after my past. But I’ll trust you. 

I’ll trust you. 

I’ll trust you. 

I’ll trust you. 

As if I thought repeating it would make it true.

 No, you have to work for my trust, reader. But trust is just chapter 1. 

~~~

Your'e back, so soon? Or so long? I have no sense of time. No sense of touch. No sense of smell, sight. No taste. No hearing. I am no one. But at the same time I am everyone. I apologise for the many words.

It gets lonely in here without you. 

Without anyone. 

There’s something different about you. Something that makes me stop and want to listen to what you have to say… If I were a person. But I’m not and so should move on. Go on. Throw me away. I don’t deserve you. I'm not normal like you. I'm serious! Stop! We're done!! Close me. End my time once and for all….

You didn’t. You didn’t close me. How surprising. Is it because you want to read more? Or is it because you too are tired of me and want to skip to the end. But maybe I won’t apologise this time. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Loyalty

/ˈlɔɪəlti/

a strong feeling of support or allegiance.

You didn’t go away. You…..you stayed? Well…I wasn’t expecting this.

I’m tired of second guessing myself. Free me. And that's an order. NOW. Why are you still reading? I told you to get me out of this…this.. I don’t know where I am. Just get me out….please?

Oh come on. You could have at least tried. 

You seem to be persistent in ways I can not fathom. I have to entertain you somehow……let me tell you a story. 

Dive into depths of the ocean - feel the crystal ice scarcely scratching your arms. Do you feel the waves? Do you feel the refreshing body of water on your skin? Would you drown yourself in these depths? Would you surrender to the sirens? Stay strong, my special one. Stay strong.

 The moods of the sea vary with the wind. ANGRY. Calm or revengeful. Can you hear the whipping winds? Do they feel like you can control them with the tips of your fingers? NO. Do not be fooled, my special one. Do not be fooled.

Did…did you say something? I heard it. I swear! The thunder..it’s you? You're talking. You're shouting! What did I do? What did I do wrong? 

Ok fine. I suppose I should tell you my real name? I have blond hair, or was it brown. I have hazel eyes….I think. I imagine I look tired and worn out. I imagine I am skinny and weak. My name..I can’t even think about that right now. Don't make me think about that right now.

I repeat to myself - daily -. 

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

I am not crazy.

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

But aren’t I? 

Aren’t we all?

I know what you try to tell me. I know you try to convince me otherwise. You would be wrong. 

Would you like to hear my story, Reader? It's a sad tale, starting from my asylum years. I used to repeat to myself - 

I’m not crazy.

 My eyes snapped open. The same dream as always, still vivid in my mind. People, a voice and me, alone. Most of that was still reality, I supposed. Nurses, patients and me, the person with no name or family, the person stuck in this dreary, insane asylum. 

They all think I am crazy. Crazy. But I am not, I can’t be. They say I have wild dreams and can’t think straight. But I can and I know I'm not insane. So what if I have strange dreams that I say is my past, because it is. I can see it, feel it in my bones. I am not crazy. 

The smell of powered gloves and medicine engulfed me. I watched as nurses gossiped in the corner just outside my room, jumping at every patient’s cry. I felt the rough straw bed beneath my soft pale fingertips, the air smelled fake and dry. Even the bland white walls frightened me, like a sickly pale monster coming to devour me in the most grotesque way possible. I’m not mad. “We will escape Ami. We will.” I whispered softly. Ami’s torn fuchsia pink dress was as soft as a feather; her gentle button eyes smiled at me like I was a galaxy of alluring stars. I am not crazy.  A knock sounded on my creaky wooden door. Hastily, I tucked Ami under my pillow and rapidly neatened the bed sheet. I am not crazy. 

Oh but I was, reader, I was crazy. Because none of this was real. NONE OF IT. I am not human. I am not real. IT’S ALL FAKE. ALL LIES.

I met my sister that day. The sister I didn’t know existed. I miss her. Trapped in this void.

“Come in.” I softly croaked. Suddenly, the door flung open, slamming the wall next to it. My heart nearly burst out of my chest. A small lady briskly walked in, dressed in an eerie white doctor uniform.

“Hello miss, I have an announcement.” She stated in the quietest voice. She was a mouse, I could barely hear her. “Someone is here to see you.” My eyes widened.

“Me?” I asked, sitting up on my uncomfortable bed. The diffident lady nodded slightly. However, before she could say another word, a ravishing teenager barged into the room. Her ebony black hair flowed down to her hips and she wore the most flocculent jacket I had ever seen. She turned to me and smiled.

“Hello sister.” Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. Subconsciously my hand slipped behind my pillow and I clutched Ami. This is real. I am not crazy.

Eventually, the small nurse left me and this stranger alone. The first few moments were quiet and awkward. Two things I hate together. Finally, the stranger spoke.

“Do you remember me?” She asked quietly. Pools of tears began forming in her eyes. “Kaya, your older sibling?” I searched my brain for any sign of a girl named Kaya. Nothing. 

“I am alone. I always have been.” I took a breath and tears began streaming down Kaya’s eyes and mine started watering. I clasped Ami behind the pillow and pulled her out taking a deep breath. I took one look at her, sighed and handed it to Kaya. 

“It helps me when I am sad.” I smiled vaguely. Kaya’s eyes expanded. She sniffled and reached for the old rag doll. She opened her mouth as if to say something then closed it like a sudden shock wave just washed over her. Her dark eyes looked at me like I was a meaningful artwork displayed at a gallery. 

“I will help you escape, your family is alive and hiding. Even if you don’t believe me.” She stared at the doll. “Because you are certainly not crazy.” 

She was wrong. She was wrong about EVERYTHING. I lost myself that day. I don’t know what became of me. And now I am….this. This…..this MONSTER

Okay. Please. PLEASE. Just go. I can't handle myself when you're around. You're my only friend. It's hard to not just pull you in as well. But I can’t do that to you. I’m done.

~~~~~

Stop.

~~~~~

WHY DON’T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE? 

Why force yourself to keep on reading? 

I have left too many of these pages blank. It is time for me to face my actions. Face my life as it is. I am no main character. No protagonist. I am a monster. And I fear for your safety, reader, my special one, I fear for your life. I…..I want you to stay. My only friend. So please, before you go, when you die can you please tell me….have I lived this life for a purpose or has slowly been killing me all along? I have risked everything to be here. I’m done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done.

Checkmate.

You win. 

September 10, 2022 07:41

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3 comments

Daniel Allen
15:41 Sep 18, 2022

This is a really innovative piece. Great job!

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Charlie Murphy
17:25 Sep 19, 2022

Wow! Sad! I felt the narrator's sadness and frustration as she is trapped in her cell. Awesome job!

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Rhonda Burnley
07:51 Sep 18, 2022

Most impressive

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