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Literature Text
She lies awake at night, crying tears that no one will ever see. A puddle turns into a lake turns into an ocean and soon she's drowning in an inescapable sorrow. As the night goes on she continues to sink further and further, until she comes to rest at the bottom of an inky pool. There's no light, only an overwhelming sense of nothingness.
She becomes numb to the pain.
As days bleed into years the pain becomes normal; a constant part of her life. It evolves into a best friend of sorts, always there, clinging to the back parts of her mind.
The pressure of the water increases, pushing insistently at her.
It almost makes her smile a little when she realizes how good she's gotten at hiding it. The bruises and scars, both internal and external- no one seems to notice, or if they do, they don't seem to care. They just continue smiling at her, having conversations as if she weren't completely empty inside.
Numb to the pain; numb to the world.
But she continues on, smiling fake smiles during the day and crying at night. No one can know her pain. They wouldn't understand, and it would just scare them away.
She can't breathe. The water fills her lungs, suffocating her, filling her body with a sickly black depression.
As much as she hides it, she secretly wants someone to notice. Her greatest fear is that someone will see past her walls, yet it is her greatest desire as well. But she's gotten too good at hiding her emotions. She can't remember how to let down the walls.
It becomes harder and harder to get up each day. She's tired of feeling nothing; she's tired of being numb.
Home, just like everywhere else, becomes just another place. There's no real attachment towards it- it's merely somewhere she goes to sleep. There is no long any love, only bad memories and tears.
She tries to breathe, to calm the sorrow, but she can't. Each breath brings in more and more water, and soon she's overflowing.
Sometimes, she tries to imagine a life without the pain. She fails every time. If only she could let someone in, scream her pain to all those who would listen. But her walls prevent her. The walls keep her safe, and without them she'd feel exposed. She can't let anyone in; her tears must remain her own.
The water slithers around her body, creating icy bonds that chain her to the bottom. She weakly tries to fight against them, to break free, but stops soon after. She's already given up- surrendered to the depression. At this point, struggling is pointless. One breath, than another and another. She accepts all the water that enters her body, even as it saps her vision, steals her strength and greedily tugs at her soul. A calm sort of silence surrounds her and for once, there is no pain, only a surreal sense of nothing. This is it, she realizes. The silence will set her free.
Except, it doesn't. There's a strange noise she's never heard before vibrating somewhere in her mind. The chains weaken slightly, her vision slowly coming back. Someone stands before her, concern swimming in their eyes. They ask if she's okay, if she needs help. They've noticed that she's always been alone, and offer to listen should she want to talk. Slowly, she becomes conscious of the world around her.
Something wet is sliding down her cheeks.
A thin sliver of light breaks through the surface of the water.
She becomes numb to the pain.
As days bleed into years the pain becomes normal; a constant part of her life. It evolves into a best friend of sorts, always there, clinging to the back parts of her mind.
The pressure of the water increases, pushing insistently at her.
It almost makes her smile a little when she realizes how good she's gotten at hiding it. The bruises and scars, both internal and external- no one seems to notice, or if they do, they don't seem to care. They just continue smiling at her, having conversations as if she weren't completely empty inside.
Numb to the pain; numb to the world.
But she continues on, smiling fake smiles during the day and crying at night. No one can know her pain. They wouldn't understand, and it would just scare them away.
She can't breathe. The water fills her lungs, suffocating her, filling her body with a sickly black depression.
As much as she hides it, she secretly wants someone to notice. Her greatest fear is that someone will see past her walls, yet it is her greatest desire as well. But she's gotten too good at hiding her emotions. She can't remember how to let down the walls.
It becomes harder and harder to get up each day. She's tired of feeling nothing; she's tired of being numb.
Home, just like everywhere else, becomes just another place. There's no real attachment towards it- it's merely somewhere she goes to sleep. There is no long any love, only bad memories and tears.
She tries to breathe, to calm the sorrow, but she can't. Each breath brings in more and more water, and soon she's overflowing.
Sometimes, she tries to imagine a life without the pain. She fails every time. If only she could let someone in, scream her pain to all those who would listen. But her walls prevent her. The walls keep her safe, and without them she'd feel exposed. She can't let anyone in; her tears must remain her own.
The water slithers around her body, creating icy bonds that chain her to the bottom. She weakly tries to fight against them, to break free, but stops soon after. She's already given up- surrendered to the depression. At this point, struggling is pointless. One breath, than another and another. She accepts all the water that enters her body, even as it saps her vision, steals her strength and greedily tugs at her soul. A calm sort of silence surrounds her and for once, there is no pain, only a surreal sense of nothing. This is it, she realizes. The silence will set her free.
Except, it doesn't. There's a strange noise she's never heard before vibrating somewhere in her mind. The chains weaken slightly, her vision slowly coming back. Someone stands before her, concern swimming in their eyes. They ask if she's okay, if she needs help. They've noticed that she's always been alone, and offer to listen should she want to talk. Slowly, she becomes conscious of the world around her.
Something wet is sliding down her cheeks.
A thin sliver of light breaks through the surface of the water.
Literature
The Wanderer
There was only the sun, and the thirst. For a while it hadn't been so bad, more of a nagging sensation than anything else but as the miles passed and one by the one the others who'd followed in the dark skinned woman's wake collapsed it had changed. From a quiet nagging it grew to be all consuming; blotting out everything else. Now there was just it and the ever more irregular rhythm of her steps as one followed the other, each one harder than the last. But still she staggered onwards beneath the sun's heat, following the woman who'd set out so boldly who knew how long ago. As others gave up and collapsed, never to move again, she carried on,
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
Literature
Insomnia
When sleep, like life, eludes me .......
...... life giving sleep overcomes everyone but me ....
life sapping concienceness drains me ....
My crimson shadowy wraith wakens and fills the slumber with it's grip of dark thoughts ... my mind races my soul cringes .....
The beauty of life but a twinkle in the crushing darkness of dispair ...... a flicker of light, the glimpse of a smile, the warmth of a touch ...... but a trickle .. like a single tear ....
............. the cold bitter dark, unrelenting throbbing, deafening, mindnumbing soul destroying pain!
....... like Ten thousand times Ten black holes ripping through the subatomic fibre
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It's been a while since I've submitted something, hm? This was written a while ago for a flash fiction assignment I had in my creative writing class. Inspired by the song The Silence by Mayday Parade
Hope you all enjoy this rather sad little story ^^
Hope you all enjoy this rather sad little story ^^
Comments13
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First off as always great job.
You have described depression so well. It is like drowning. It is also so very very hard to let people realize how you feel in such a condition. You described this so very well. Your word choice was spot on. The emotions could be felt and to someone who feels this they can picture and even go though what our protagonist went though. I love how in the end you bring into the protagonist's life someone who might be able to help them heal themselves. You describe this so well.
Great job.
You have described depression so well. It is like drowning. It is also so very very hard to let people realize how you feel in such a condition. You described this so very well. Your word choice was spot on. The emotions could be felt and to someone who feels this they can picture and even go though what our protagonist went though. I love how in the end you bring into the protagonist's life someone who might be able to help them heal themselves. You describe this so well.
Great job.