The Forest
  • LETTURE 14
  • Voti 3
  • Parti 1
  • Tempo 6m
  • LETTURE 14
  • Voti 3
  • Parti 1
  • Tempo 6m
In corso, pubblicata il nov 08, 2024
I was once asked to narrate a story based on what I saw. I couldn't convey my ideas properly. If only were I not so nervous... If only could I communicate with my mind... If only were I connected with my thoughts! I have tried to paint the scenery I imagined with my words. However, I have to say that I have failed miserably.
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It was so cold, I could feel the bits of snow covering my body, as I laid captive in the cold. Sheet of soft, white blankets camouflaged the bushes and trees in the wonderland. The animals and insects were covered in the ice that kept them frozen in place, like puppets on a shelf. There were no flowing stream of water; they were frozen into a misty blue, icy surface. I had no memory of how I got here; I was with my mom and dad eating dinner. On a Friday, we were talking about our day and how we should plan a family vacation. That was it and now I'm in the forest that seems to be frozen in time. I pulled my legs into my chest and dug myself deeper into the winter snow of the ground. Thinking that if I were to burrow, maybe. Just maybe I could keep the heat from leaving my body. I pulled over my hoodie and shrunk my face into the scarf that was covering my mouth. My breathing was deep and long drawn, trying drastically to find warmth; white air came from me to the air of the cold. As the fearful winds pounded me, deeper into the hole and shifted away pieces of the snow that was around me. Slowly, my mind started to drift off. This wasn't good; I tried to keep my eyes from closing into asleep that would have been endless. But there was no use my weak, shivering body fell asleep, before I could even fight. And dreamed. Dreams are something you are battling that your mind plays on you to figure it out. Like a game that ends the way you make it. When you lose you can only blame yourself, and cry for something only you know because it's your mind. Your dream. Your... "Do you want to live". A voice swayed into my dream. "Or do you want me to leave you here". I knew I was dreaming, but am I dreaming in a dream. Is that even possible? Maybe it's just a voice made by my subconscious giving me someone to talk to. I don't want to be alone. So with the strength I had left I uttered, in a voice so quiet it was more of a whisper. "Please help me".
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