"I am lifted, I am lifted!"-King Of The Clouds
P!@tD
"Arthur!"
I watched the monster begin to bawl as the white light surpassed my eyesight. It's sickly water as dense as blood. Yet, I felt like I was in tears as he was.
My mind was influenced by the painful events, sending a massive spike to my brain. My body was mush, melting into the ground. My knees were weak as if uncooked noodles supported my body weight.
My eyes peeled open to find a smooth surface where my face was planted. I reached my hand out to the cool, reflective floor, beginning to pick myself back up.
I sat on my knees and faced toward the sky, covered in spontaneous swirls of clouds, detailed in every layer.
Arthur had told me that once an artist died, they were allowed to paint the sky as a last goodbye. I just hoped this wasn't my last goodbye.
I closed my eyes and inhaled the fresh air breezing through my coarse, midnight hair. The pain in my head began to cease, decreasing with every slow breath.
"Shhh. Shhh. It's okay. Everything is going to be just fine." I embraced my knees to my chest, smoothing through my hair as Arthur would.
As soon as it was clear to think, I began to question where I was. I was already frustrated from being thrown back and forth through realms.
I'm in a coma.
I took a breath.
It would explain why I did not feel alive nor dead. My hand massaged the back of my nape.
I have a chip now. An early senior present. It was going to happen anyways, whether I liked it or not. I sighed.
Too bad Arthur couldn't hack fate.
There's a monster. It sounds like me, like my voices, but isn't me. That THING is not me. It couldn't be.
I looked at my reflection in the glass, placing my hands shoulder width apart. I had tote bags underneath my eyes.
I took another breath.
My reflection began to morph into a crow colored blob. Only its sunken eyes were recognizable.
So were the tears continuously streaming down its undignified face.
"You!" The matter jumped. "Why am I here? Answer me!" I grew defensive, waiting for its next attack. My teeth clenched to fangs and I raised my fist.
If there was anything I learned from my father, it was to use force.
Rage got the best of me as I swung onto the glass; only to be startled as the reflection turned to me once more.
"DAD, STOP!"
YOU ARE READING
Terminally Abstract
Science Fiction🤩1st PLACE WINNER OF THE FRUIT AWARDS 2018!!🤯 (From awards category)(*^ω^*) ON HOLD FOR PT. 2 ESKETITTT "Different is good sometimes." In the year 2130 nothing could surpass the most technological state in the world, California. A microchip, impl...
