Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Above and below are both products of my weirdness. Enjoy! This one is called You Are.
I hear you all the time now. You are that voice in my head. Not the good one that tells me to hold the door open for the elderly or has me tell a small child to sit down before they fall out of their mother’s grocery cart. You are the voice that tells me to do nothing so I can laugh when they fall down.
When I am alone at night and stare at the ceiling, you are the voice that tells me it isn’t safe to sleep. Not because dreams are dangerous or because there are monsters lurking in the shadows of my closet, but because you are waiting for me behind my closed eyes.
Hungry. You are a ravenous cancer that eats away at my sanity, destroying any bit of me that might have once passed for normal. Others watch me with suspicious eyes when I argue with you at the bus stop, but they don’t know… they just don’t know. You are the one they should fear, not me. I’ve caught you putting my dad’s gun in my hand, but I won’t let you win. I am stronger than you.
No one else sees it, but I know what you are.
You are the voice that tells me that the world is collapsing around me. You tell me I could light a bus filled with nuns and toddlers on fire and no one would care. You tell me it’s good kids take guns to school because it’s about time the bullies feared the geeks. You are convinced there is no such thing as a hero, only people in the wrong place at the wrong time that make stupid decisions. You say no good deed goes unpunished.
Samuel can’t walk now. You tell me he hit me first, but I don’t remember. When I looked down at my crimson soaked hands, I had thought the blood was mine. My life flashed before my eyes and I wondered if the people at the bus stop ever laugh at you when I’m not paying attention. It was a random thought, one that vanished as soon as I saw Samuel’s crumpled body at me feet. Mom says she’s afraid of me, and doesn’t believe me that you did it.
You get away with everything, and I’m sick of it.
Please comment. I love the feedback, and I'm so glad people enjoy my weirdness.
Posted by Christi Goddard at 8:17 PM
Labels: short story
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Wow, what more can I say? That was incredible, the writing was amazing.
"When I am alone at night...you are waiting for me behind closed eyes." that is probably the scariest thing I've read in a while. Makes me want to say the rosary.
I love the imagery, especially at the bus and the mother.
Nice Christi. Have you ever thought about putting together a book of short stories?
Anne: I've thought this one was sort of good so I shopped it a bit for magazines, but it was a no go, sadly.
Justine: I have, actually, but I don't think there's a market for fake insanity rants. I did put these all together in one document and it's about 12,000 words, 65 pages. Not very big, and I'd have no idea how to query such a thing.
I'm so glad I read this in the bright, safe light of day. It has all the makings of a great horror movie. Wow. :-)
Keep ranting...add some more words ;-) Then find an e-book publisher. There's a market, you've just got to find it.
This is a very vivid piece. Love the dark tone, and love the internal conflict going on. Thanks for sharing!
Thanks, you guys. I'm really glad you like them enough to say something. :-)
I am still rubbing the goose bumps from my arms. :)
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