Help.
He smells my blood, fresh and metallic tasting. His soul is pitter-patter on the floors. I can sense him, somewhere out there, with his vicious eyes staring right at my back, ready to jump in and maul me while I write. And I can't write.
I can feel him ripping my skin and tearing it into shreds as if it were paper and grabbing my wrist tight, scratching it and leaving marks.
I can feel him, so near, and so here. I can feel him sitting on my head and making it heavier by the second. My hands are trembling as I pound the keyboard but I can't stop.
I can't sleep when the night is as old as it gets. I can't sleep when the moon is laid on top, hidden beneath clouds and smirking at the beads of sweat dripping from my forehead.
I can't -
I want -
I want to sleep. I want to dive into the mattress and pour my hot, burning tears into the pillows and just let out a wild, terrified shriek. I want to sleep.
I want -
I can't sleep. Because I know he is there and he will follow me until I get to my bed. And as soon as I do, it will all turn into black and I will have to face the facts that tomorrow ---
Tomorrow will be the death of me.
Tomorrow will be the day when he manages to wake me up, with him beside me, his glowing red eyes bursting out of his face and just smiling at me. Hello, sleepyhead, he will greet me, with claws protruding from his fingers as he brushes my face.
I want to trap myself into a corner where he'll never get me and bleed myself to death because I know that when I do, I'll be rid of him and all this and I can't seem to get his image out of my mind, that image where his fangs just glisten and bite right at me, where he leads me to some place where I can never escape, where he carries me in his scaly hands and throws me into the rivers so that he can watch me drown in silence, and I want --- I want,
I want to sleep.
But if I do, tomorrow will be the end of me.
He is
the words that will emerge from mouths when I enter school tomorrow.
He is
what the teachers will say about me as a disappointment.
He is
me trying not to crack in front of people.
He is
fear.
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139,447 Literary Works • 672,564 Reviews
I really really enjoyed the pacing of the story and your structure. The last paragraph, in which your thoughts seem to go on and on, contributed a lot to the suspense. The amount of imagery and personification throughout the piece made me feel like I was going to burst from excitement. You did a wonderful job on this. A well-written work, indeed!
Keep writing!
Thank you for review! ^-^
Hey ya!
So this was freaking awesome. I seriously loved everything about it and even though I knew that "he" would be an emotion or something like that I couldn't help but imagine him as a vampire.I know it's silly but yeah couldn't help it.
Anyway I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. And the way you described FEAR was really remarkable.
"Tomorrow will be the death of me" that line was really... amazing.
keep writing! Great work!
Fangirl~
Thank you for your kind review! I feel like I owe you one too e.e
Well then dome a favour and become my friend!
Sure!
This was a very cool piece, and I scarcely ever say that anymore. Take the like I've given you as an indication of something special, or my tendency towards midnight softness--whatever it is, though, I really liked this piece.
I had a feeling from the very beginning that this wasn't your ordinary horror piece, that this was actually going to have a clever twist in the ending. Your foreshadowing is on point, and I predicted that it would be something like fear coming in the ending; which isn't at all a bad thing. Predictability doesn't mean bad unless the plot twist is the only thing you have going for the story, in which case the story isn't worth reading anyway. And as for this one, I liked the twist, and I liked how you executed it. However, I will say that some parts don't make sense, at least to me.
-"His soul is pitter-patter on the floors." This might just be a personal preference, but think about this for a moment--does fear have a soul? Or is his emotions, the terror he brings to the protagonist act as the thing shaking the floor, breaking the protagonists' psyche? Consider changing this line or thinking about what you intended for it to do, because it suggests that fear is a human thing. Or is he a human thing? (More on that later)
-Actually, I was supposed to fill out another quote here, but then I found out it was brilliant so yeah.
Okay, so there's that hint of criticism. Here's the mostly well-deserved praise.
From the beginning, I was wondering whether this was talking about a lover or something along the lines of fear, but in the end I think it either depends on interpretation or is actually both. I have a theory that this is either actually speaking about an ex-lover whose memory has destroyed the protagonists life, or actually treating fear like a lover of the same breed as the latter theory. In either case, it's a lovely and new way to bring light to such an old topic, and I think it deserves a couple more reads after my own.
Excellent work,
--EM.
Thank you Ellmist for your review! ^-^