Free write
Yet another free write for creativewriter. The prompt was 'You wake in a dark room. Someone is singing nearby.'. Hope you enjoy!
There are voices, all of them are melding together into one, I can’t distinguish between reality and my dreams anymore, like the voices, they meld. I can’t find a solid ground to stand on, if I’m standing at all. All I can hear is the singing, listen to the melody and pray that I won’t die for becoming entranced by it. It draws me back into reality, it seems the time I will be spent in this floating state won’t be for long. I open my eyes, but nothing but a stark darkness is around me, more imposing than the fantasy that I had just emerged from, although I cannot say for sure that it was pure fantasy.
There’s a voice, the one I heard from the melding of the others. The tones shaking me to the core, the melody lost and yet familiar at the same time. Like from something long ago, something that I can almost remember, but still can’t quite grasp. It stops as quickly as it started, or so I’m guessing. I don’t even remember going to sleep, nor do I remember what I was doing before. Was I drugged? Was I transported into some alternate dimension? Am I dead?
“Not yet.”
I don’t know where the voice came from, nor can I distinguish exactly if it is a male or female, like it’s caught somewhere in between. I do know it is a child, however, unless some unfortunate soul be stuck with such a voice through their adult life. I still can’t see anything around me, nor feel anything around me for that matter. I don’t understand what’s going on, and I’m not sure if I want to.
“You do, you’re just afraid of the answer. Curiosity is something that you have never been able to ignore,” the voice said, except it was beginning to split again, like the voice of many. That wasn’t comforting.
“You are not meant to be comforted.”
I can’t speak, I can’t defend myself, but I am able to make out a lone flame flickering in mid air, but I can’t move to reach it, to see if I can still feel warmth. I just want to go towards it, I don’t understand the impulse to do so, but it’s important. I can feel it.
“Not yet. It is not your time.”
Who is that? What do they want from me?
“The light. We want the light. It’s so cold and dark. The light will save us.”
The light? The flickering flame that is teasing me from across the darkness? I can feel myself moving, the cold floor against my bare feet, my gown letting the draft through to my bare legs. I don’t care, I must reach the light, I must feel the warmth. Maybe if I keep it to myself, the voice, voices, whatever won’t bother me anymore. Maybe I’ll wake from this nightmare if I reach it.
“This is no dream,” the voice changed, definitely male. “You’re not allowed to leave without us. We won’t let you have the light to yourself.”
Shut up. The light is mine. Then I can feel, then I can go back to whatever I was doing before.
“We won’t let you,” the child’s voice again. “We can’t let you do that to us. Not when we are still needed so badly.”
I don’t know who they are. Just leave me and the light be. I grasp the tiny light in my fingers, it’s so warm, so comforting, the voices for the moment are silent, at least I get this peace. That’s what I feel, I know this feeling, peace. It was something I was desperately searching for, eagerly wating for. I deserved it, I deserved it all!
Then the singing started. The haunting song that would come from the voices who wanted my light. It was mine! It had to be. It wasn’t for them, they couldn’t feel the warmth, they couldn’t feel the peace. It was mine! I swear, it was mine.
“We won’t let you have it,” a woman this time, her voice over the singing. The melding voice waivering without her part. “It is not yours to have. It is ours. You know this.”
“Leave me alone,” I find my own voice, I scream to the darkness, desperately holding my light to my chest. I try to will it to go in, try to will it to come back, my peace. My quiet.
“No.”
“It’s mine,” I scream, I can’t help myself. The tears roll down, at least I think they’re tears. I can’t tell anymore. I’m losing my feeling, my light, my peace.
“I can’t be yours.”
“Why,” I question. “it’s mine…”
“You gave it up when you came to us.”
“It’s mine!”
“Never again.”
--
“Doctor, he’s having an episode!”
“Get the tranquilizer. This time, we will find the solution. I will not have him go into another episode.”
--
The next thing I know, it’s dark again, my peace is warm, and the voices are silent.
There are voices, all of them are melding together into one, I can’t distinguish between reality and my dreams anymore, like the voices, they meld. I can’t find a solid ground to stand on, if I’m standing at all. All I can hear is the singing, listen to the melody and pray that I won’t die for becoming entranced by it. It draws me back into reality, it seems the time I will be spent in this floating state won’t be for long. I open my eyes, but nothing but a stark darkness is around me, more imposing than the fantasy that I had just emerged from, although I cannot say for sure that it was pure fantasy.
There’s a voice, the one I heard from the melding of the others. The tones shaking me to the core, the melody lost and yet familiar at the same time. Like from something long ago, something that I can almost remember, but still can’t quite grasp. It stops as quickly as it started, or so I’m guessing. I don’t even remember going to sleep, nor do I remember what I was doing before. Was I drugged? Was I transported into some alternate dimension? Am I dead?
“Not yet.”
I don’t know where the voice came from, nor can I distinguish exactly if it is a male or female, like it’s caught somewhere in between. I do know it is a child, however, unless some unfortunate soul be stuck with such a voice through their adult life. I still can’t see anything around me, nor feel anything around me for that matter. I don’t understand what’s going on, and I’m not sure if I want to.
“You do, you’re just afraid of the answer. Curiosity is something that you have never been able to ignore,” the voice said, except it was beginning to split again, like the voice of many. That wasn’t comforting.
“You are not meant to be comforted.”
I can’t speak, I can’t defend myself, but I am able to make out a lone flame flickering in mid air, but I can’t move to reach it, to see if I can still feel warmth. I just want to go towards it, I don’t understand the impulse to do so, but it’s important. I can feel it.
“Not yet. It is not your time.”
Who is that? What do they want from me?
“The light. We want the light. It’s so cold and dark. The light will save us.”
The light? The flickering flame that is teasing me from across the darkness? I can feel myself moving, the cold floor against my bare feet, my gown letting the draft through to my bare legs. I don’t care, I must reach the light, I must feel the warmth. Maybe if I keep it to myself, the voice, voices, whatever won’t bother me anymore. Maybe I’ll wake from this nightmare if I reach it.
“This is no dream,” the voice changed, definitely male. “You’re not allowed to leave without us. We won’t let you have the light to yourself.”
Shut up. The light is mine. Then I can feel, then I can go back to whatever I was doing before.
“We won’t let you,” the child’s voice again. “We can’t let you do that to us. Not when we are still needed so badly.”
I don’t know who they are. Just leave me and the light be. I grasp the tiny light in my fingers, it’s so warm, so comforting, the voices for the moment are silent, at least I get this peace. That’s what I feel, I know this feeling, peace. It was something I was desperately searching for, eagerly wating for. I deserved it, I deserved it all!
Then the singing started. The haunting song that would come from the voices who wanted my light. It was mine! It had to be. It wasn’t for them, they couldn’t feel the warmth, they couldn’t feel the peace. It was mine! I swear, it was mine.
“We won’t let you have it,” a woman this time, her voice over the singing. The melding voice waivering without her part. “It is not yours to have. It is ours. You know this.”
“Leave me alone,” I find my own voice, I scream to the darkness, desperately holding my light to my chest. I try to will it to go in, try to will it to come back, my peace. My quiet.
“No.”
“It’s mine,” I scream, I can’t help myself. The tears roll down, at least I think they’re tears. I can’t tell anymore. I’m losing my feeling, my light, my peace.
“I can’t be yours.”
“Why,” I question. “it’s mine…”
“You gave it up when you came to us.”
“It’s mine!”
“Never again.”
--
“Doctor, he’s having an episode!”
“Get the tranquilizer. This time, we will find the solution. I will not have him go into another episode.”
--
The next thing I know, it’s dark again, my peace is warm, and the voices are silent.