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Chapter 1xxawake
I was born out of darkness at age sixteen. I was born out of darkness yesterday; born into the afterlife. You don't remember much as a baby until a certain point when more interesting things happen and your mind can hold memories. I died and I have no memory how. It's like being suddenly born. I don't know anything but what I am now. My past life means nothing. My name means nothing. My memories.. mean.. nothing. It's laughable how life can pull a fast one on you, isn't it? No, not very, but you're free to indulge in it.
I can barely remember my first few moments. I was greeted by the light that surrounded me but shortly after I was coated in only darkness; darkness thick enough to drown me should it take form. My eyes opened and with acquiesce, I was born. Gazing around to take sight of my surroundings, I noticed the grimy calcium-reduced walls that encompassed me. The ceiling, and most likely the floor supervened suit. Everything in this room was disgusting, but I don't remember much from it. It was all a blur of green and brown in varying portions, spinning and twisting. I could feel my stomach churn.
Closing my eyes tightly seemed like my best option.
I floated away into that world that didn't exist and found myself to awaken in a slightly better location with a terrifying truth that I must face. I don't even remember opening my eyes. I just remember staring at the ceiling, or at least what I thought was the ceiling. I was lying on my side and my vision was distorted. I felt disgruntled and almost literally somnolent.
I can't recall any of my actions. I stood up, but I couldn't feel it. My eyes saw what they saw, but my body seemed to move on it's own. I walked forward and I felt even dizzier. I seemed to float forward although I was powering my legs to move. But I heard footsteps. Nothing made any sense. I had to find a mirror. What was wrong with me? Was I numb? Sick? Something was going on. At this point I hadn't any clue that I was dead.
The cardboard walls around me gave no mercy. They were brown like burlap and appeared as if they would fall at the slightest poke. That assumption was proved false when I walked forward and I seemed to ram my side into it. I can't say how strange it was. I moved my head to look down, and I could not feel my hair upon my neck. I could not feel anything. My eyes would surely dry up should I continue not to blink, I began to notice. But as I stared before me and simply took notice to my body I would see that I WAS blinking but once again... I could not feel it. This was simply too much. I remarked that my legs seemed to be completely normal despite the fact that they had some scratches. They were also a bit pale... I touched them with my hands and felt nothing. Taking sight of my hands I quickly brought them before my face. How... grayish in shade they were. As I pressed my fingers together and moved them back and forth I waited to feel.
Still no feeling.
I crept forward in such a ghostlike fashion, however my legs were swearing up and down that they were moving. I reached a room with nothing but a cabinet mirror on the other side from whence I came. It was a small room about the size of a small closet, with the space of a box but very tall. As if all it were good for would be that mirror.
I asked... why couldn't it be a full-length mirror? It had all that space so why? I soon realized that it would be far too much to see all at once.
I stumbled before the mirror and caught a quick glance. That was all that was needed. My eyes were not even close to a brown. They were pitch black with specks of white as if the black were taking over. A plague. It scared me to my core. Horror movies flashed through my mind and I begged the Lord to keep me safe if I should die.
How humorous.
As my face scrunched up to one of fear and crying, I heard an awkward sound as I watched the skin between my left eye and my cheek begin to tear and wrinkle as my sobbing face took it's form. I tried to cry but my tear ducts didn't seem to work. I couldn't feel my facial muscles no matter how hard I frowned. I couldn't feel my face rip no matter how hard I clenched at my skin and ripped it off. It was tormenting. The pain of feeling nothing. What was wrong with me? The reflection staring back at me had begun to mock me. I couldn't feel any of my actions. It was as if my reflection was controlling me. How stupid... but I couldn't help myself.
I screamed as loud as my body would allow. I was unable to feel my vocal chords rip or my fist slam full force into the mirror as hard as I thought my ghost-like body could move. I felt nothing, and when I opened my eyes I gazed upon a hand that could not bleed. It was a sight to see. I gawked at my hand that was so disfigured. The bones were hanging off. I had completely destroyed it and it indicated one sure thing. Knowing that I could not feel it, the only thing it would do is confirm my beliefs. I don't remember feeling it or even doing it. I had to ogle the mirror and watch as my fingers dug into my ribcage, piercing my skin like lifeless worms. Grabbing the cage and simply pulling, I was amazed at how much I could pull myself apart without feeling it. A bit of a laugh left my throat. I already knew what was to come next. As I broke my bones and chucked my ribs out from my body, my skin began to tear even more. The left side of my chest was completely gone, including my breast. The human body was so easy to manipulate in this state. Then came the moment of truth. I straightened up and puffed my chest out like a proud bird. Holding apart skin and what was left of my ribcage, I began to stare into my chest.
The maggots stirred. I would have vomited if I could feel such. Many of them poked out of my beat-less heart. I was dead.
Seconds later I fainted.
 Abstract S t a r · Sun Sep 06, 2009 @ 02:05pm · 1 Comments |
