Short Stories

Seven Days of Solitude

Today I disappeared.
I tucked myself away into a corner the world and didn't come out again. I didn't speak, my face remained blank. When I finally went outside, people brushed past me without noticing. I was invisible. It felt quiet.
I dreamed I was silent. Faces came to me, said things, but no sound left their lips. When I tried to speak my voice was thick and gloopy and nonexistent. I tried to shout, but my voice was locked away.
And I woke up whispering.

•°•

Today I was numb.
I stayed home. I watched TV and read books and did so many pointless things. Whatever I did though, I couldn't feel a thing. I was cold where warmth should be. I felt empty instead.
I dreamed I was underwater. The cold crept into my bones. The dancing light above me was growing further and further away. The darkness closes in and sent me horrible, terrible thoughts. I should have fought, but I let myself drift down, down, down. I let the ice take me.
I woke up shivering.

•°•

Today I opened.
Slightly. I ransacked my shelves and found a book of- of memories. My past, printed and bound on paper. My fingers leafed through it, careful not to touch anything too much. And then I saw it. That photo. I slammed the book shut. It felt like I was shutting out part of myself too.
I dreamed of ghosts. Memories swam in front of my face like graceful nightmares. I tried to push them away, I didn't want them, I wanted them to go! But I had to look, and so I saw pain and despair and darkness. The broken wreckage of my past.
I woke up crying for a comfort I didn't have.

•°•

Today I was anger.
I stormed and raged and broke and cried and bled. I scorched and shrieked and wept and flamed and hated and screamed till my throat was red and raw. My eyes were hot and salty tears stung them as they rained down my face. My knuckles trickled blood. My whole body was on fire. But it felt like the real flames were eating me up from the inside.
I dreamed of colours. A myriad of hues danced in my eyes. I tried to hold on to them, savour their bright rainbow hope, but I saw red and then my vision filled with black, black despair and fear.
I woke up still screaming.

•°•

Today I shut down.
My anger was dangerous. It was too much. This is all too much. So I left. I built a box around my heart, locked it, and threw away the key. I don't want to hurt anymore than I already do. For the first time in days, I made a decision. I felt determined.
I dreamed I was in a glass coffin. The walls were brittle but did not break when I hit them. Silhouettes flitted past. I tried to get their attention as the last of my breath fogged the glass. I thumped and yelled. The coffin filled with a hot liquid. It soaked me through as it climbed towards my face. It lapped at my lips and I tasted metal and salt. I choked for breath as the red liquid coursed down my throat. Another silhouette walked by. But though I shouted, no one came.
I woke up with salty tears running into my mouth.

•°•

Today I said goodbye.
I slipped outside. Told the wind and the birds and the trees. Told them I was leaving. People brushed by. The earth was grey and cool. The sun had lost its colour. I looked at the buildings and the sky. One last taste of freedom. One last look at the world. I felt truly and utterly alone.
I dreamed I had wings. They spread from my back, white and feathery. Maybe they'll let me be an angel. Maybe... I beat them once, twice. They carried me away.
I woke silently and sighed.

•°•

Today I ... I ...
I stepped to the edge of the roof. Cold, grey air swirled around me. I looked down at the tiny world moving below me. The world I was no longer a part of. It's not because I want to leave. It's because I just don't know how to go on. I wondered how I would look beautiful and battered on the ground. One step. Another.
And then

I fell

and

everything

went

black

I dreamed of angels. They came and lifted me up. They swept their radiant wings through the air. Their hands cradled me gently. I looked into their kind, beautiful faces and knew I'd never be alone again.
I woke to freedom.

Hello, the is me, River, the author. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry my stories have been depressing so far. I promise you, I do have some more cheerful ideas knocking around in there!
Well, that's all. Bye!