This one we just took an idea and each wrote about it.
Mine:
I awake to find myself in complete darkness. There is nothing in sight but the pitch black that envelopes me. What is happening? There must be away out of this.
In the corner of my eye, I see white. I turn and see a figure walking towards me. White in the black. Light in the dark. As they approach, a sense of familiarity grows inside me.
They reach me and hold out their hand. I take it with no question, welcoming the familiarity in the unfamiliar darkness. Without hesitation, I ask, "Who are you?
"Hope."
-------------------------------------------
Hope's hold on my hand stays firm
as we wait. Wait for something to happen. Wait to find some indication as to a way out of this. Wait for someone to save us.
But nothing happens.
Hours go by, waiting. But still, nothing happens. After long hours of waiting have gone by, Hope's grip falters. Until, muscle by muscle, finger by finger, our hands slip apart.
Hope grows further and further away, until they were out of sight.
Hope was gone.
Ri's:
I don't want to do this anymore. I want to give up, this is just endless. We are all hated by life itself anyway, why would I even think of being an exception? Day by day by day, and for what reason? I can't think of a single one. Putting on a facade of happiness and tolerance, while underneath there is a universe of helplessness. But why.
I'm satisfied I got out of there finally, but why aren't I happy, like I thought I'd be?
Maybe I'm just fatigued after all the running I've done, but why do I still feel like I'm running?
This isn't even a unique story, this is a common story.
Ah. There's light... It's glittering so brightly like the moon at night... That's right. The only light I even think of is the moon... how pathetic of me. Even after fufilling my dreams, my only thoughts are of something that only shines when it reflects something better than it.
That's probably just the way it is. The light I see...... on my knife.
Is it supposed to symbolise Hope? Then why, why is Hope enticing me to my death?
I want to live... but even the so-called 'optimism' is against me, as if taking the form of a human and stabbing me in the back. It'd be better to avoid it than confront it.
In the end... there is no hope left.
