Foretold

Foretold

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jan 25, 2018
Each night I dread falling asleep, the darkness is overwhelming, the dream is the same, but I'm never in the same place. I try to recognize my surroundings, but through the darkness I can tell that I've never been here before. Tonight I'm somewhere musty, the smell is putrid. I hear the sound of water dripping in the distance. As I make my way across the floor I stumble and land on my knees. My hands hit last. I'm not sure what they're touching, but it feels damp and is squishy. As I pull myself up I realize that I'm on the surface of a rock, it's not a floor. The dampness surrounds me, then the realization of where I am hits - a cave! But where is this cave? I've never been near one before. Then like always I sense the presence of someone else. Oh if only I could see then maybe, just maybe I could make out the features of the person that keeps taunting me in my dreams. I keep my composure, I've become good at this. I want the unknown person to see how brave I am, and then it happens, the sound, a sound unlike anything of this earth...
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There is a moment before the dream begins where everything feels still. A breath held between worlds. In that moment, time doesn't move forward or backward-it waits. That's where I exist now. In the pause. In the static. I don't remember the exact day I started to vanish. Maybe it was slow. Maybe I was too quiet for the world to notice. They say the mind protects us from things we cannot bear. But what happens when the thing you're running from is yourself? Somewhere, there's a house that doesn't belong to any map. Its windows never reflect sunlight, and its walls curve so gently that you don't realize they're watching you. There's a girl in the mirror who looks like me, but she remembers things I don't. There's a bathtub filled with water so still it feels like a grave. There's a man I created-kind, warm, and perfectly not real. And there's a truth waiting at the end of the hallway. I'm afraid of it. But I think I've always known it. This story is not a confession. It's not a warning. It's just what happens when the silence gets too loud. And the corners begin to disappear.

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