|
Subconscious Nightmares
A story I wrote for an English class of mine. Thought I'd add it here to see what people would say about it.
Subconscious Nightmares
The temptation is just too much. The liquid flows through my veins as I take my last sip, an unfamiliar warmth embraces my body like a security blanket. I stumble across the room, not able to control my own bodily movements. I feel a sharp pain creep up my body as the sound of cracking bones echo through the walls that surround me.
The room spins before me, the walls appearing closer than they really are. My vision blurs and I find myself crouched close to the floor of the claustrophobic-like room. My hands rest against my stomach, trying to hold back the intake of food I shoved into my body just a few hours ago.
"Are you alright?" I hear a faint voice ask me. I squint my eyes and mumble something about living.
I feel a hand grasp my limp arm. Anger overtakes me and not being able to control myself, I yank my arm free from the man's grip. I turn to glare at him, my eyes fury-red. My voice sounds shaky as I babble on incoherently about not needing his kind of help.
"Now, you listen here!" I angrily slur, saliva shooting out of my mouth as I emphasize every word.
I take a step forward, my finger pointing accusingly at his boney face. With one eye closed, I wag my finger at him. I curse violently as I take another step, only to trip over my own feet, causing me to do a nose-dive into the hard, ceramic floor.
Blood trickles down, staining my skin. I feel a wave of panic twist a knot into my already-churning stomach. My knees shake as I stand. I wipe away the blood with the back of my hand. My eyes search the room only to meet the eyes of the stranger I was just verbally attacking. I stare at him apologetically, hoping my eyes show gratitude for his kindness.
I stumble towards the door, feeling the need to escape. I must escape; I need to escape. Just a few more steps. My feet feel heavier than usual. I reach the door and my hand presses against the door handle. I turn it, my hand shaking with suppressed anger at my clumsiness.
"Where do you think you are going?" I hear a soft, feminine voice ask. I turn and a smile lifts the corners of my mouth.
"Home, sweetie. You wanna come?" I wink flirtatiously at the stubborn-looking woman.
"Not like that, you ain't. Give me your car keys." She demands, her voice full of determination. Anger shoots through me and I grip her shoulders violently.
"Leave me be, woman!"
I see fear cloud her eyes. I snap up my car keys, my whole body shakes as I exit the tiny pub. I walk clumsily over to my black pick-up truck. I open the drivers door, my fingers almost sticking to the handle. I turn on the ignition and back the truck up, the wheels just missing a curve. I steer the truck hurriedly down the road, my foot pressing heavily on the gas.
I look at myself in the rearview mirrior, disgust gripping at my limbs. I feel the wheels of my truck hit a bump, my ass lifting up off the seat. Panic courses through my veins as I grasp the steering wheel, trying to steady both the vehicle and my body.
My knuckles turn white as a sense of fear makes its way through my system; the feeling ebbs at my being. I shut my eyes, trying to escape reality. The truck does a sharp turn and my eyes snap open, only to witness the most and last shattering moment of my life. The old beat-up truck goes wild; swirving and diving into a ditch. My breath catches in my throat and I turn the steering wheel, my head twisting back suddenly.
Blackness engulfs me. I can't breathe or think. I hear and see nothing but a blank world.
*****
Where am I? Why am I here? What is this place? My eyes flutter open to unfamiliar sounds. I look around, my eyes scanning a place full of green grass. I try to speak but no words escape from my lips; I try to remember but I can't. What happened?
I look around one last time until I notice them. They stand there, their faces full of composed sadness. It seems as if their heads are tilted in such a manner that they are looking down at something. I wander over, curiousity getting the better of me. I stand beside a man, a tear falling down his cheek. I try to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder but my hand feels feather-like.
My eyes float down to where a body lay in a casket. A gasp of pure terror escapes from my lips. There, before my very own eyes, lays my lifeless body. I take a step back and shut my eyes, trying to escape this horrible nightmare. Not knowing what to do, I run. I run as fast as I can, my legs stiffening with each stride. There is no way out; nowhere. I feel myself collapsing and I shut my eyes, my world spinning before me into total blackness.
__________________
Leanna- ""There are two kinds of writer: those that make you think, and those that make you wonder."
|
). The ending, while not wholly unexpected, made the story worth reading and brought it to an interesting conclusion. Even though I have seen this theme a lot in short stories before, I think you did an fair enough job overall that makes your work stand out in my mind slightly. 
