The Day Before. (Undergoing Re-Writing as 01/11/22) (Sequences 1-4 finished)

Sequence Five.

Sequence Five.

The Room.

Black shadows fill this empty room I now resume. A voice, I can hear, but cannot assume. Something is moving, a something not there—to a tune that is playing from something nowhere.

Cold and raw, I am bound by a simple string, so complex. I stand up. The string falls off of me and onto the ground. I look around. Something smells like burnt... is it russer? I forget. Gulls and wolves, powdered gloves and morning doves. All these things are real, I think. I keep thinking as my mind races, pitied and shoved, pretty unloved.

[EDITING SORRY, REST FROM HERE IS NOT EDITED OR WRITTEN PROPERLY, AUTHOR ADVISES READER NOT TO READ PAST THIS POINT]

On the stone ground in front of me sits a nail and a wire. I pick up the nail, I fondle the wire. I try to devise but I grow tired. I drop them both back down, and as they tap the ground in a deafening ... and I leave them alone. No—I turn back around and pick up the nail—leaving the wire cold on the ground. The nail will come with me now, for a reason unknown.

I slide up against the wall, wet and cold. I hear a rat squeak, low and behold. It comes from a vent off to my side. Where am I at in this place I reside? I try to live by, I try to survive? I will try to find where it is that this rat might hide.

I cannot remember much at all. It has been the longest time. The last thing that I remember is that I was on my way to the place that I know the most. But then something happened—something that I do not know.

What marks on my face are scarred and torn. My nose bleeds red—a rose's thorn. My hands turn to the wall where I start to etch something I once adorned onto this grey wall in dust. T—R—U... I erase it. I cannot remember.

I find the vent and open the grate that was off to my side. I crawl in. Feeling cold—I lie down bare onto the metal, feeling old. I crawl into the vent toe-by-toe. I crawl and I crawl—trying not to fall into the vast amounts of holes and halls.

I come out of the vent upon a rocky terrain right before about insane, I tame. I fall to the ground. Never-mind, I wake up again. I cannot sleep now. I have somewhere to be. Here I am, now forgotten to thee. Taken and shot, not yet to be free. Shabby and taunted, nowhere to go but in misery—haunted to me.

I wake to see a small ocean of people resting in front of me. No... a city. A dark city filled with no one at all. It is the city that I dreamed.