I never know what I’m thinking or understand how I’m feeling until I do a bit of writing. Usually something completely unrelated. A fictional short story or thought tossed into words.
It is like a session at the therapist…
And so this happened last night at writing group. Not sure what it says about me except that I might be a bit stressed.
***
She tripped and fell into the burning sand… and they laughed. From the stands above, toothy smiles and wicked sneers leered down at her prone form.
Alaska Lee dug her hands into the grainy sand that scraped and chafed. Feeling every molecule of pain, every grain of hurt. She focused on the feeling of betrayal and simmered in her hatred.
“She has fallen!” The announcer screamed into his mic, flinging spit in his enthusiasm. “Will she make it up in time? For her, every second counts in this dance of death.”
Cheers and laughs from the crowd as they leaned forward in their seats to see the disaster that was her life falling apart and devoured by the Gloom.
The Gloom stalked towards her. Circled her. A beast of ever shifting shadows. Darkness filled with teeth and unquenchable hunger.
Alaska Lee stayed frozen. An iceberg in the pit of burning sand. It wasn’t a large enclosure, but the walls were high and lined with seats. The exits were barred and only the Gloom and Alaska Lee faced off within. Or rather, the Gloom hunted and Alaska Lee tried to stay alive.
“This looks like it folks. Any second should be the end of that human girl who caused us so much grief. The naïve girl who thought to befriend the dead and their minions. Stupid girl who thought she would help us. Foolish creature who thought to change our very nature. You cannot change the dead!”
“Do you see the Gloom calculating when to strike? Do you feel it in the air?! For her, the end is near!” The announcer was wild and rabid with bloodlust. The crowed growled in rage and excitement.
The Gloom leaned down close to her, in no rush to end this because it knew it had always been in control. Face to face with its prey the Gloom stared wordlessly at her. It was a void of malice and starless night.
Alaska Lee stared back at the king of nightmares and into its fathomless depths. She knew madness awaited there, but vaguely wondered which would be the better choice. Madness or death by the hands of the Gloom.
Tags: book, psychology, read, story, therapy, write, Writing
Anna Van Skike- writer, artist, steampunk enthusiast, and geek extraordinaire.
dreampunk geek 