The Krystal Progression

1. The Girl in the Room

*NEW UPDATE: I just realized that @wishie7 was my first follower so this is dedicated to her because I really appreciate that. Thanks girl!*

Darkness. 

Darkness is good. It wrapped around the girl like she was a present. It weaved between her toes and snaked across her legs towards her head. She liked the way it made her feel. It was a pair of thick wooly socks on a cold December morning. The girl snuggled into it and let it take her in. The darkness transformed her. It seeped through her skin, making her blood cooler. She opened her mouth and drank it in. Darkness had a certain tang to it. Bittersweet like chocolate. But also spicy at the same time. 

Blindness.

The girl was blind. The darkness was a black cat sitting on her head and looking into her eyes, seeking attention. She was used to its flamboyant tendencies. Stretching one hand out, she touched the cold, flawless plane and took three steps forward. She loved how her fingers raced across the wall as if they were dancing. How nice would it be to see them in the light, she thought. A second later it flew out of her mind. Actually it was pushed out with a wave of black. It didn't like sharing with foreign thoughts. Thoughts were bright, and it didn't like that at all.

Friendliness.

The dark is her friend. She didn't need the light. She didn't need thoughts either. Her eternal companion will show her how to do things and where to go. There wasn't that many places to go anyways.

Loneliness.

Sometimes she forgets that the darkness can be empty. Whenever she thinks of a new idea (which wasn't often) it would recoil from her just a bit. It felt as if a friend had stepped back from a hug. Or a strangle. There wasn't a bed or a closet or a desk. They wouldn't have fit in there anyways. The room she lived in was small. Only five frugal steps to the other side of the room. 

Silence.

The darkness can't speak. It has no physical form or vocal chords to communicate with. The only sounds came from the girl. She couldn't remember when or where she learned how to speak but she liked to a lot. It was the only time she felt superior to the darkness. She imagined that the air grew hotter when she talked because it was jealous of her skill or angry that it couldn't reply. Once she thought it was because there was a prescence there and it listened. But that was impossible. Nothing could get into that room. And nothing could get out.

First actual story I've written on Wattpad!! I found the idea under a bunch of junk on my Google Doc and I decided to finally start it.