It's two a.m. You've been up all night, staring at the ceiling, watching shapes and faces, colours and lines appear and disappear as the clock ticks slowly. The silence seems to whisper to you as your world shifts from colourful and vibrant to dull and lifeless, the only thing you can focus on being the clock's monotonous ticking. You stare at the hands, and they seem to move backwards as the colours you know aren't there shift and distort around the clock. You don't know when, but eventually you drift into a state of neutrality. You're not asleep, yet somehow you're not awake either. It's silent, the comforting, orderly ticking absent. You're left alone with your thoughts, floating in nothingness, empty and numb. After an eternity of playing games with yourself in your head, reciting things you know to be true, doing anything to block the terrifying thought of emotion, the silence becomes too loud. You cover your ears, beg it to stop, but even your voice is muted. The emptiness surrounds you, pushing in on you and suffocating you as you let out a final scream, sound slowly fading back as you jolt awake. You check the time. Not a second has passed. The room is dark, the only sound the tick, tock of the clock. You lie back, brushing your hair from your forehead as you begin to laugh. Slow, humourless, and more than a little mad. After a while, the near silence returns as the room darkens, yet you remain completely awake, eyes wide open, listening.Tick.Tock.
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Short Story's And Poems
Ngẫu nhiênShort storys povs and poems Warning: contains graphic imagery (if u have a good or active imagination) contains strong topics. Always take breaks of this material is hard or heavy to read. Help is only a message away helpline are online and rememb...
