March 25, 2010
By buckybear BRONZE, Zuni, New Mexico
buckybear BRONZE, Zuni, New Mexico
3 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Nobody wins by playin' small, Remember who you really are, Fearless and beautiful..." RuPaul - "Champion"

The floor is cold and wet as I lay hopelessly searching for comfort. There's no light, the windows have been boarded up...how'd that happen? Silence.
No one.
I'm alone.
There's something wet against my face, have I been crying? How long?
I gasp for air, but there is none.
I don't understand.
But I do.

In an instant a great weight seems to be lifted from my body. The walls slowly change from black to gray and finally to white. Sunshine seeps through my window and I find myself in a small white room.
Looking down I see that I'm dressed in white. What's happening? Where am I now?
A rapping comes through my door, startling me.
She comes in, a small nurse, dressed also in white.
"Who are you?" I ask.
She smiles gracefully as she walks towards me.
Softly caressing my arm, I felt the sharp prick of a needle. In moments, I drift off into nothing. I look and see her walking towards the door. She turns and smiles at me, comforting my mind.

I don't know why I'm here or how long. They tell me it's been nearly three years since my entry into this building, but when I ask them why I came here in the first place, they tell me, "You know why."
I know why?
I search for possible answers in my head but I find none.

Oh, how wonderfully blue the sky is with its little whisps of clouds passing by looking down upon me from high above. I lie on the soft green grass, shifting my hands through it. The soft tickling from underneath my palms excites me.
She walks up to me. A little girl.
"Hello," I say to her.
She says nothing but bares grin telling me she's happy to see me.
I sit up and look at her. She's my height, sitting down.
"What's your name?" I ask.
She looks down, her grin disappears. Saddness fills her eyes.
"Is something wrong?"
She looks up and into my eyes. She tells me all I need to know. My stomach is in a knot. What have I done? I tilt my head towards the sky. Tears have overcome me.
She takes my face into her hands and softly plants a kiss on my cheek. She forgives me. But I can't forgive myself.
They call us in; I stand up and look down to where the little girl was standing. She's gone.

I wait in my room for the small nurse to lift me away from the pain, but she doesn't arrive. Instead a tall man comes and inserts the needle into my arm. I drift away.

It was raining. The clouds so heavy that nothing could be seen from afar.
She was afraid, small and delicate was she, that she came to me for comfort. Curled up next to me we slept soundlessly. Little did we know that our parents were dying downstairs. We heard neither screams or pain.
He came for us in our sleep. Grabbed her by the neck; enjoying the pain she endured. I awoke to her screaming for him to stop. He was thrusting himself inside her. Paralyzed by terror, I stood and watched. I didn't know what to do.
But then something overcame me and I quickly reached for the ax he carried and swung hard his way. I was stained with red. But I missed.
It was hers. I missed. He was still standing.
I could feel his eyes on me as I ran to the closet for safety.
I felt something wet against my face. I must've been crying. Then another. The rain must've been pouring as the ceiling was dampening, and drip by drip I waited and listened.
There were footsteps. I held my breath in terror.
By the door now.
Holding the ax tight in hand, I waited.
He forced the door open. I was ready. One swing into the top of his head. The screaming was terrible. Again, but to the neck. He gasped for air. Again, the arm. Again, the neck. He lay still but gulping for air. Once more and it was over.
I slumped into a pool of red. She lay on the bed quietly staring at me.

Instantly, I was pulled back into the room. Crying. I remember.
I looked up. There she was, smiling at me. I reached out for her and she reached for me. We embraced.
I'll remember.

The author's comments:
At first, I started this story with an entirely different concept than the one present...I wasn't even sure of what I was writing about. But eventually, the story revealed itself.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!