TRIGGER WARNING: Implied murder, implied death
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I was six years old then. I wore bright-coloured pajamas and had hair that just barely grazed my shoulders. My sister sat next to me in a matching pair of pajamas, just in a darker colour. Her hair was a little longer, wavier, than mine.
I didn't know where we were. Just that we were in a round room with stone walls, presumably underground.
The walls surrounding us were a sickly green colour, black mold covering the tops of the walls and the ceiling. We sat on the edge of this large pipe, like a sewer pipe that leads into the ocean. Directly below the pipe was a metallic swirling slide-like thing leading into an empty pit of darkness. It was so deep and we were so high up, I could not even guess whether or not there was an end to the darkness.
An older boy with curly hair and big glasses sat precariously on the edge of the slide to oblivion.
Did I hate him at that time? I must have.
My sister and I placed our feet on his back, pushing him forward to slide down all the way to the darkness. He didn't scream, didn't seem surprised either. It was like he was expecting it to happen.
A dark-haired woman in all white approached us from behind, emerging from the inner sector of the pipe.
She reached us.
And I woke up in a cold sweat.
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Ineffable Dreams
General FictionINEFFABLE (adjective) too great to be expressed in words Trigger warnings now added * unless stated, the triggers aren't described in graphic detail * most of the triggers range from one sentence to 1-3 paragraphs Please feel free to tell me if I mi...
