Hello dear readers. So I’m on a mission to improve my fictional writing and I need your help. This is my very first piece of thousands. Kindly comment or critique or like. Hope you enjoy 🙂 or probably not .
I lean helplessly against the wall. I don’t know why at this very moment I can neither think nor speak. I can’t cry, I can’t scream, I can’t do a thing even though I know I should.
This wall is unusually green tonight. The draping passion fruit leaves bare more similarity to moss. The way they cling to that wall, you can mistake the two, I observe as I fall to the cold timber floor. The room is somber and dark. The lights seem flicker and the door looks soiled red. I rub my eyes. I know it’s all in my head, it has to be. Once I open my eyes everything else looks as it should be. I look at my boots again. They’re still heavy. They’re torn. They’re muddy. Red mud.
The fear runs through me again. I can feel my whole body getting weak; my joints, my head, my blood freezing as though I had just been dropped at the North Pole. I can feel a huge lump of sourness form in my throat. It hurts so bad but I can’t let out. I can literally feel my heart sink. I don’t know what to do.
“I must not fear, fear is a mind-killer, fear is the little death that brings total obliteration,” I mumble through my shivering lips. I had stumbled into these words online when I was doing some research for some school project and decided to make them my erase fear anthem. I tightly shut my eyes to visualize what I’m saying but I can barely keep what I had seen out of my head.
“I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over and through me…” I continue vehemently this time saying them louder and enclosing my body in my arms. I feel a sense of protection but can’t help it. I knew it would happen someday, I just didn’t think it would be today. Heck I didn’t even think she’d be the first to go. She was the brave one, the strong one. Why wasn’t it me? I ponder. It should’ve been me.
“Lynda! Lynda!” it replays in my head. My voice calling out to my sister.
I raise my hands to block my ears but I realize I can’t even feel my fingers. I can’t feel myself. A second ago I would now I can’t.
“What in the motherf***ing world is going on?!” I scream as I run towards the mirror but before I’m there the phone rings again. I turn sharply and look at it. That shiny yellow hideous object that turned our lives upside down. That good for nothing communication box that brought us misery. That… that… It cost my sister her life. It’s what got us here. What made our lives a living hell!