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Slumber

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The walls were closing in on him. Stone upon stone seemed to breathe in a steady (but harsh) movement, bulging out until the cracks between them almost split apart completely and then receding back to their original position. Dust so thick it could be mistaken for veils of ghosts drifting lazily around him could be seen falling from the ceiling… But the ceiling itself could not be seen. No corner was visible, no pillar or chair conceivable…only the moving structure; only the collapsing walls around him could be focused on. It was as if there was an ambient glow being produced by his skin, pointing them out to him, warning him against the impending danger.

Not that he could focus on such a caution either way.

His eyes took in the sight before him as if there was nothing else to see in this world. He could not pull away his view if he tried…and he didn’t. There was far too much beauty in what he saw lying there; too much to take in, all in this one object… How could he possible absorb any other view?

And then his skin tore. A cut across his cheek slit open, travelling the top of his cheekbone and then curving towards his earlobe. A silent squeal struggled to escape his lungs, and he quickly realized that there was no sound here. He looked up at the walls and noted their constant movements…he could almost FEEL the booming of some unknown monster smashing against them…but no sound was heard. It was as if a spell of silence had been cast directly into his mind. Suddenly, he had a strong burning image of his brain shriveling into a raisin like object and he attempted to scream again (again without much success).

Another cut appeared. This one slashed across his forehead diagonally.

He ran. His surroundings were finally noticed in his mind as he forced himself away from the wonder object. The walls bulged farther. The dust became waves of insects, dying with each blow to the stone and falling to the ground around him; as if the blows’ silent noise was rupturing their bodies. He shut his eyes and sprinted to the door as hard as he possibly could, despite the force seemingly dragging him back. He could feel cuts challenge his legs and arms as he ran, and he re-opened his eyes in an attempt to focus. The dual-doors leapt into view, designed with wood that bore many engravings, now visibly scarred from ages past. He smashed through those doors without a second glance.

He was consumed by darkness…

And the darkness could see him.



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This article has 3 comments. Post your own!

KateLA said...
Mar. 29, 2012 at 1:59 am:
Very nice! You can put yourself right into the action. Only criticism I have is for the words in parentheses. They interrupt the story and make it seem as though it is being told through first person instead of 3rd.
 
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team_haymitchThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 28, 2012 at 5:27 pm:
wow, really intense! tell me when your book gets published, i'll buy it!
 
TheVinny1996 replied...
Mar. 28, 2012 at 5:29 pm :
Thanks haymitch! I appreciate that :p
 
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