Published October 27, 2012
I can't go outside anymore.
A man waits for me in the alleyway. He wears the same trench coat,collar upturned. He smokes the same brand of cigarettes, Marlboro Red.
Have I told you that?
He stands there everyday, an unwanted guardian. A prevalent shadow that towers over this hole that has consumed me.
He is an angel of death.
I see his dark wings in the bloody glow of the strip club lights next door. He stands in the rain, the snow, the heat . . .
He waits for me to leave.
He knows that if he kills me, everyone will know I was telling the truth. He knows that if I leave, the computer goes with me.
And so do their secrets.
But I'm prepared. I escaped one year ago from a prison in Nigeria, where to stay fed and watered I had to fight off animals and other men for the amusement of the guards. I have been hunted. I have seen the face of my colleague blown off in the car we were traveling in.
There is a man in a back room right now. He puts on a balaclava.
He's thinking my name.
But I'm still alive, whilst so many others are dead.
All of them sacrificed, to protect this computer.
To protect the truth.
I can see the man in the alleyway, his cigarette winks at me just above his trench coat collar.
The phone rings. There is only dead breath on the other side ... and I know they are listening, and I know they are planning. I can hear them with their ears pressed on all four of my walls. I can see the lens of their camera in my ceiling, a black watchful eye.
They think they have me trapped.
I have dynamite hidden under my bed, arsenic in the salt shaker, three guns hidden on my body, loaded with three bullets each. Three, exactly.
My colleagues will come for me and the computer. I just have to keep posting encrypted images of shoes on the internet. I just have to stay in this hole. I have to let them think that I'm finished ... have to let them think that I'm the tool, not the sage.
It's only a matter of time now.
Only a matter of time ...
I can't go outside anymore. A man waits for me in the alleyway.
Have I told you that?
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141,704 Literary Works • 675,588 Reviews
Heello! Aqua here!
I don't really have much to review about this piece because it was actually written really well. I loved how you went deeper into the mind of the victim facing his death. And ow he just sort of detaches himself from the world about halfway through and makes you feel like you're in a montage of some sort.
I also thought this piece sounded super poetic. Well, it's just the way you wrote it, it's reminiscent of a lyrical, poetic piece. Lots of imagery and waning descriptions. A really deep look into a person's mind? Very poetic.
Any grammatical errors? O.o *checks through work*
Yay! No mistakes! Good job, dude! Keep writing! XD
This is really cool. It sucks you in right away, because you're trying to really figure out what's going on. I still don't fully understand it, at least the part at the end, where he begins to repeat himself, and not really notice. But I'm sure that was intentional. I would be interested in this growing, and seeing where you went with it.
One of the main things I like about it is its combination of like realism and supernatural qualities. The Angel of Death is waiting for him, but it's because of secrets on a computer, which is a pretty realistic conflict.But then he's posting encrypted pictures of shoes, which gives it an almost silly quality, but only for the briefest second, because you get sucked back into the darkness of the story. Very cool.
The only criticism I would suggest is that if you keep going with this, have a clear story in mind when going forward, otherwise the messiness that is important in the narration won't have a purpose or clarity behind it. Because I think the narrator is supposed to not give the reader the answers right away (if ever) but YOU should know the answers because then the reader will understand there is a reason for all of this, besides creating a mystery.