It's always dark. Everything is dark. No spark of hope, no light. Only me in this dark and cold room. Everything is and feels empty. A shiver is running down my spine, but I won't give in, I won't show my fear. No stripe of light, no window, a locked door and nothing to escape. Locked up, fucked up and alone in a room confronting me with my life. I want to scream, but I can't make a sound. My body hurts from laying on the ground. I try to get up, but I am stiff all over and I give up. This is it. Over and done. My life flashing by. No food, no drink, no luck, no happiness. I'm not worthy of anything. Of staying alive. I am doomed. My life won't get better, I'm here to die alone with tears on my face. Everything starts spinning, I get dizzy and puke on the floor. I feel like dying. The life is being pulled out of me. Black spots start to blur my vision. I close my eyes, but I can't open them again. I have no energy, I have no fight left in me. Everything hurts too bad. And I am so tired. It's just.... Why me? Why does it have to be me? It's always me. It sounds selfish, but it's true. It's always me. And if I stay in this room it'll always be me.
The room is dark. When I think hard I can remember when I got here, but I don't want to think about it. It's hard enough as it is. In this dark room. Without any light. Without a way out. Being confronted with all your fears and mistakes. Leaving you crying, shaking and afraid. I have no clue how late it is and how long I have been in this room. No bed, no toilet, no water, no food. Crying, sweating. I've only got on my underwear and I have a feeling I am being watched. I am scared. Of course I am. But I am not weak. I am not dying in here. I refuse to, I want to live my life, and leave this behind. I am going to escape. With that I am going to sleep. I can not stand up right now, but when I have slept I certainly will.
After I have slept I still feel weak, but I am finally able to stand up. I have to lean against the cold wall, but I am not dead, and that's what it's about. I will be able to stand on my own legs. To hold myself up. I still have got something to fight for, and as long as I have I won't die. Or I will die as a hero fighting for my life, but I simply can not die in here. I won't die in weakness, because I have to stay alive. Otherwise I will disappoint everyone, my family, the people I love, the whole fucking world, but most important my friends. They expect me to save the world, to come back to them. To help them, but I can't get out of here. It's so dark, so lonely, being confronted with everything I've done and seen. It hurts and I feel so weak. I feel so hopeless, so useless, I feel so old. I am not old. I want to live, I am not ready to die, I am too full of my fire. Too energetic. I never stop moving, even in my sleep I have heard. And now I am here, in this dark, cold room. Alone, with just enough space and air to not go crazy. The air is thick and it's hard to breath, I don't know what time it is, but it feels like I haven't eaten for days. I shiver at the thought, I would kill for some water and food, now I think about it maybe I already have gone crazy. I can't do anything about it and it hurts. I want to hold it back, but I can't help it. Tears start to flow out of my eyes and desperate I look for some light or opening in the room. When I still don't find anything I fall down on the middle of the ground and my silent tears continue to flow.
I look up to the unrealistic high ceiling, my head hurts and I am so, so tired. 'Please, please let me free. Give me something, paper and a pen to write my thoughts down, otherwise I am sure I will die. Please give me something to help me just enough to stay alive.' I sob in a whisper. I could barely hear it myself, but suddenly right above me a hatch opens I feel the light shine bright on my face, the bit of warmth that gets in. There is something that is being thrown into the room I am in. The hatch closes way too fast, but when I hear a soft sound I see a pen and maybe a hundred sheets of paper. I can't believe it. I really can't. How is this possible. I start to cry again. But this time not with a too bad feeling. No, the person who did this all to me has still got some mercy in them.
'Thank you.' is all I can bring out before looking all around me. I don't know from where it is coming, but I smile and I have something to hold on now. To write my story, to make myself happy and laugh and cry with all the good and bad memories I have. That will make me feel like I mean something. It will give me hope and happiness in those cold and dark times. It will make me feel like I really am someone. It'll be just like I am living in my memories, and not here locked up, fucked up in a cold and dark room. This is not what I want my life to be, so I'll write down how I want my life. What my dreams are, and make a plan to make my dreams come true. I pick up the pen and one piece of paper. I start to write.
I know exactly where this story all started. I'll probably will be writing this story for myself, no one will know about it and it will never be shared with the world, but still... that doesn't hold back the need to write it down. For myself do read back, to cherish, to make me feel better. So that's exactly what I am going to do. Write my story down. If someone will ever read it I bet they don't like it, it's too boring, too nerdy, too whatever people would think about this. They can say or think whatever they want, but this is still my story, it's about my life, my vision. And it's enough if I like it. I don't need anyone else to be proud of myself, to be proud of my story. I have never written anything before, but I don't really have anything else to do right now. And I have a goal I want to reach so I am doing just that. Maybe I am repeating myself, but if I wan to repeat things I just do it. I am not bothering anyone with it right now, and even if that happens they can just fuck off. I already have enough worries. And not the worry about if I bother people by writing my story down, I don't care about that. So where was I? Yeah, I know exactly where it started. It all started on a beautiful day. By a river. Two boys will meet there. One boy has the power to control the water and the other one has the power to control the fire. Those two elements are enemies, but those two boys are enemies too. As you all know water and fire are opposites of each other. But as they say: "Opposites attract." I know for sure that that is true, but it can be in different ways, as enemies, as lovers, as friends, as family, as brothers. We will have to find out more about that. About those two strange boys who meet on that beautiful day.
I can see you roll your eyes right now. What a shit writing is this, but everything I write I know from memory or from the people themselves. And it's not like I can push you to read this, to continue. To read it until the end and the next books. No, you can throw it or put it away whenever you want. It's not like I can see it or say something about it. If I would know it would hurt for sure, or I would try to convince you to read this because I think it's a good book. But that's what I think and well, I can't look into your heads and say, you like it and you don't. That's not how the world works. Enough nonsense for now, let's start the story.
Sooo, nice first chapter??
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The Dark Ring
FantasyMature! warning! don't read it if you can be triggered! 🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞❎❎❎❎❎❎❎❎🚫⛔⛔🚫🚫 this story and the characters are mine, so if you see this story posted somewhere else but wattpad please tell me! ©🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞 A Dark Ring must...