Writing Exercises

Entity

This is the second of only two prompts that I wrote this March. I was terrible XD

Prompt: Entity

I used a restraint for this, and I'm pretty sure I did it correctly. There should be 15 metaphors in here. Try to find them!

It was there.

It was always there, staring and stalking with eyes as large as saucers. Its shadowy form, an endless night that cut through the day, shimmered and shifted in the air, twisting around and around in a parody of shape, an intangible spectra that tagged along like a curious puppy.

Puppy was the word to use for it. In her entire life, she had never seen the thing do anything. It simply watched, staring as though it could see into her soul. There were similar things like it, ones that were more violent that she could see attacking those that they followed. But hers, it was as docile as a puppy. Almost as if it didn't want to hurt her. A small peace of mind that she could bear.

She didn't know if it knew that she could see it. It never stayed close enough for her to touch, always darting away fast as a rabbit before she could even think to touch. But it wasn't a deliberate movement; it just constantly moved that way, twitching and contorting around her in circles. Sometimes she was worried that simply looking at its movement would drive her mad. But then moments later she would shoot that idea down, as watching it writhe was more beautiful than not.

She was used to its presence. It had been with her for as long as she could remember, and she had accepted its presence long before. She told noone, of course, worried of what they might say. She didn't know if others were aware of their presence. After all, it seemed as though one of them tailed every person that she met. Yet only hers remained calm and docile throughout the day. Everyone else had one that seemed to darken their personalities, making them sway and shift through a spectrum of feelings in but a second.

Its presence was nothing to be worried about. She was hardly phased by it anymore. There were, after all, more important things to be concerned about then some creature that stalked through the night

Today was the morning of her 18th birthday, the day when she was considered fully matured. She could go out, begin her life as a true citizen of the world, and finally, finally leave this place.

She woke up happier than usual, excitement covering the usual blanket of indifference that she wore. It was a strange feeling, almost foreign. Just the day before she had felt this day weigh upon her, the idea having been difficult to swallow for one as closed-off as her. But now, in this moment, she could smell the sweet scent of a new beginning, and a balloon welled within her.

She rose from her bed to get ready, but stopped suddenly, confused. The silence stained her mind, freezing her into place. Everyone in the community was aware of the Day of Leaving, were aware of each and every child and their happy potential for a bright future. People prepared through the night, with loud, rambunctious parties that lit up the sky in an endless blaze of festivity. Now, it was silent.

No... it wasn't silent. There was a strange hissing, whispers never heard before, painful and grating, ones that crawled through the air and between her ears and into her mind.

A rollercoaster of emotion flooded through her, a cocktail of panic, surprise, and fear mixed in an overwhelming bomb that crested through her chest.

Suddenly there were hands, two large, invisible structures that grabbed her and threw her to the ground. More followed, the whispers getting louder and her breath becoming scarce as the air seemed to be physically pressed from her lungs.

Her blood boiled through her veins, her fragile, tiny body coursing red-hot and dangerous as before her eyes appeared her very own entity, a parody of what it had been before.

It smiled at her, a grotesque smile appearing where before there had been nothing. Or was there anything actually there? Spots grew endlessly before her eyes, unconsciousness threatening to engulf her in its merciful maw.

The last thing she remembered seeing as her clock struck twelve was the thing jab a smoky arm through her chest, straight to her heart.

Word Count: 707