voice

By , Lawrenceville, GA
One never knows when their last breathe will come, marvelous the mysteries fate hides from those awaiting their deaths. Alas as I stood there, my body penetrated as if being pricked by tiny invisible needles, fear coursing through my blood stream. Feet planted to the cold stone floors, as if they had sprouted roots; roots which had grown deep beneath the stone-holding me in place. My mind blank as fresh paper. Perspiration spreading as my anxiety took place making me tremble slightly. This is when I knew all hope was gone. I was left dry and defenseless. I knew I was going to die, no matter how I chose to accept it, I knew it was my time. My reaper was near for all was cold in my heart. I knew my last breathe was coming despite whatever rules fate may have.

I have always tried to keep myself at ease as to if escape from this awful place by trying to remember memories from before I was captured and prisoner to this cell. Though rarely can I conjure up a memory. To my dismay I cannot remember a time where I was out of the darkness and in the light, except for the night I was captured. It is not a memory I choose to remember often, it is what put me in this place and all behind it is memories of darkness and pain.

The night I was captured was a perfect night for hunting, though it was rather early morning before the sun had risen to kiss the earth. The fog had settled making the ground somewhat difficult to see, dew had settled making the forest floor damp just as well as the air. Light from the moon eliminating through the trees casting shadows and a faint beautiful glow. I was most comfortable at this time therefore it was when I chose to hunt. I was comfortable with my surroundings and always felt most at ease in the woods, with the nature. I had often come to these woods after enduring the fights that took place weekly at home. I knew this place and it was as if it knew me in return. I chose to hunt with a bow and quiver full of arrows, I never fancied the guns that seems to amaze most common men and frighten women. It was a waste of metal made to cause pain, it was loud it would scare off any pray. This is why I stick to my bow and my arrows though I do seem to also take a liking to using knives. I loved the rush I got from placing the arrow in place, then pulling it back and setting it free flying through the air, fast ever so fast, to the target of my choice. I loved the game of hunting.

I was in this place of familiarity the night I was captured. I never saw it coming, never heard it approach; I just felt the change within myself. I heard the snapping of twigs though thought nothing of it that it was possibly another hunter, or possible my next prey. I did not know such evil existed I did not even know of evil, it was unknown territory to me. That was why it frightened me. I saw a blur and then the sound of something fast moving. I ran, ran into the forest, to anywhere away from this evil. That is all I remember from the night I was captured. I was captured I was a prisoner to this unknown object, and it frightened me. At first when I was binned and brought to my cell I tried to fight back I tried to resist what they wanted, but that was near impossible. I learned not to fight back and I learned there was no way out of the darkness. The darkness had become my new home, sometimes even my new fear though sometimes my comfort and safety.

I waited for whatever was to come, surrounded by black eerie darkness along with its friend-the cold. As another tear started its journey down my face I felt as though with it traveled my last bit of hope, my last bit of faith. As what was left descended a voice arose from the nothingness. It was the voice that haunted me all of my life, it was the voice no-one else could hear, it was the voice of the demon inside me, inside my head. The voice that tortures my thoughts and dreams. The voice that tells me to do bad things. Rough and snake like, containing and underlying slither, spoke once again familiar words it has tormented me with for weeks. The words it ever so often spoke as my skin chilled to the touch.
“I will kill you; I will drink the juices of your human body as I have done too many before you. I will come sooner or later. You cannot escape. You cannot run, so do NOT try. I enjoy this game and hope you do to.”

These words played over and over inside my head. There were no shackles or chains binding me to my spot in the corner of this dark stone room, nothing but my fear and my root system under the stone floor. I could not take it! I wanted it to stop! NOW. I bent my head into my hands, covering my ears trying to block it out. It will not stop, my insides scream for relief. Hitting my head to stop the voice, the contact causing pain to emerge and to spread. The pain is better than the voice; the pain eases over the remainder of the voice trickling off inside my head. Pain is welcomed it sometimes seems like the only relief the only thing I can do to forget and get everything else to subside.

Its time like these when I try to remember; remember anything, anything at all. This is the times when I wonder if my family misses me, if I even really had a “family”. Did people come looking for me and did they ever find evidence that caused them to stop? Had they ever gotten close to finding me? I wish I knew, I wish I knew everything, I wish this had never happened and I wish mostly that it would all stop. I was prepared to die I was inevitably ready. These are my thoughts as once again I drift into a slumbering exaughsted sleep, my only comfort in knowing my dreams may be sweet.











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Things can change in any waking moment. We are blinded by our own ignorance to not see most change coming though some have talents for feeling change approaching, these are the few lucky people in this world. The people who can help themselves from the problems change may bring the individuals who are the lilies in the lake that float over the ripples a skipping rock can cause. All change is not eternal as all movement may last and this was my hope. I hoped and hoped till hope ran thin that change would head my way, that all the change would come and hit me smack in the face like a freshly cleaned glass door.

Hope could be the downfall of a human being, starting in the mind slowly tearing away at the emotions, killing off cell by cell. As it travels down through the body deadening the nerves and finally settling at the heart. Eating into the heart, burrowing deeper and deeper, until there is no place left to burrow. This is how hope can destroy the human beings or the human race. Hope had started destroying me and I knew it was eating my insides as I slowly was losing my mind in this darkness.

Darkness. There is nothing to fear in the darkness but ourselves. This monstrous evil eats us and brings out the worst in people. It can tear the strongest men in the world down to little nubs of nothing. I’ve no idea of time in this darkness though it seems like I’ve been surrounded by it for years. I’ve been lonely and have started to go mad. I live in my head and dreams. Mad! I tell you this evil has driven me mad! The loneliness is getting to me more and more every day or what seems like a day. I feel I’m losing myself, losing myself to nothing. Sounds impossible but the nothingness is gobbling me whole.





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