The Origin Of All Fears

Lucy and Daniel

(Lucy) 

I couldn't swim forever in these murky waters. I knew that much. All that would happen is that I'd inevitably tire out and let the waters seep into the pores of my skin. If I kept swimming and thrashing about, who knew what'd happen during the space of that time? Would I get closer to freedom? Or would I just drown again? This nightmare had been happening long enough and to be frank with you, I was getting tired of it. I was getting tired of hearing the same voices ask the same question before I drown the same way. Seriously, just give me something new to be afraid of! I'm sick of this!

So I thought I'd try to change it up a bit recently but, to no avail. It'd always end up with me at the bottom of this bottomless ocean, trying desperately to get to the surface to regain oxygen in my lungs. Already I could feel myself tire and begin to slip away. But not this time. I refused to let it happen again. But I could see the gleam of hope beginning to dissolve into nothing as I dropped to the sandy pit. The inky waters began to fill my lungs to the brim, the seaweed hands tying around my arms and my legs to prevent me from getting away. My mind was mocking me. From the depths of the ocean, I heard the giggles of the wind that seemed to howl in the liquid. 

At the sides of my eyes, I could see my oncoming death approaching me fast at full speed, not stopping for anything. My body ached for oxygen and screamed for some form of release but nothing would save me now. I've seen it all before, I know every ending. I've tried everything. It always ends up the same. From the bottom of my throat I could feel my voice begging me to scream out. Just to see if anything would happen. No matter how hard I tried to fight the urge, the bubbles from what little oxygen I had began to lift to the surface of the quiet waves. 

The bubbles turned into a small cloud of a nightmare, standing in front of me. For that split second I felt like everything was all right. But my hair still felt damp, my muscles still felt tight from thrashing. Gulping in deep breaths, I calmed myself. 'This is happening too often' I told myself. 'I don't care about being judged or singled out anymore. Someone needs to help me.' 

(Daniel)

From above came shovel after shovel of dirt and mud. I laid there in the 6 foot dip, staying at motionless as I possibly could. Playing Xbox constantly had really paid off! I knew what to do...at least I think I do. Why is this same dream haunting me? I mean, really now. Three times in a week?! Last time it was once a month at the most! Maybe I've done something? Who knows. However, what I do know is that I'm bored now. Unfortunately I could do nothing. I'm rather comfortable here so I won't bother putting on a fight. No point anyway. He has a shovel. What do I have? Dirt and mud. I'm literally useless. 

Well, I mean I could swear at him but what good what that do me? Not to mention the fact my throat is clogged up with the brown descending particles. Not shit of course but...actually no it could include the faeces of insects if they can even produce like we can. Oh, who cares anymore. I crossed my arms in wait for this nightmare to come to a close.

It seemed to finish up early today. Lucky me. He jumped down into the space, held the shovel up just above my neck before slamming it down...on my shoulder. This was a new twist, to say the least. Usually my life would end here but never had he attempted to torture me. I attempted to screech out in pain was greeted my a sinking pit of mud, descending into my mouth and flooding the insides of my neck. I attempted to cough it up but more sank down. 

The pain was unimaginable. Unbearable. Before I could try to feel the damage, the shovel was thrusted down into my other shoulder, disconnecting my arm from my body. I was officially armless as I lay here, choking on dirt. A few seconds later, I awoke to find myself sweating in bed, sat upright in my room. The mud had turned into my blanket that began to slip into my mouth and down my throat, the shovel was merely the light that hung from the ceiling. I could breathe easy again as I brought my mind to its safe place. Now, I had hung around with an emo, a goth and semi-normal people before. One thing I've learned is that they can be very weird...but understanding. Having constant nightmares would bring shame on my name and there's no way around it but I had no choice. I'm aware that in every story like this, the protagonist will tell their friends and then everything is hunky dory. And it is repetitive, I know, I'm sorry I have to be that guy but this was my last resort. It was either suffer in silence or...suffer to your friends making fun of you. Frankly I'd choose plan B any day.

A/N: This is Jenny. Hello. Thank you for reading! I know this is not as good as Tiffany's chapter but it's the best I've come up with. Thank you again f