Xay
12-18-2010, 01:01 AM
I just finished this, please tell me what you think :)
The Box
I sat on my bed, consumed by nostalgia; memories of my youth when everything was so simple and I could always ask someone questions when I was confused. Memories of my life before all of this happened. I glanced at the glowing red alarm clock on my desk, it read: 2:32 AM. That’s all it ever read, ever since the box. I looked down at the cube I was cradling in my hands. It’s deep black color, so deep that it seems to seep into everything near it. I had made the mistake of looking at it, now I was transfixed. I couldn’t look away for the life of me. “Damn it” I said aloud, there was no one to hear me anyway. The sound of a gunshot in the distance caught my attention. I quickly looked up from the box in my hands, never letting go of it. I looked out of the only window in my apartment. I saw a forsaken city, left to die. Its once great and shining buildings were now yellow tinted and crumbling. The once happy people of this city left long ago. I was supposed to leave too. But I stayed, I stayed for the box. Another gunshot rang throughout the dead city. Any normal person would have investigated, but I didn’t need to find anything out there, as if there was anything out there but death. Once again I looked at my hands, the box sitting there as always. I sat back down on the rotting pile of wood I called my bed, and stared at the box, reminiscing, as always.
I woke up, startled from my sleep. I looked around franticly for the box. I couldn’t find it! My heart began to race. “This cant be happening!” I screamed, I looked over the side of my bed, and to my relief I saw the cube lying there. I quickly snatched the box and began to admire it. My heart was calming now, “That’s why I’m not supposed to sleep” I hissed to myself. But alas, I once again gave in to my bodies will, and drifted asleep, still clutching the box.
I found myself walking around the ruined city. It stunk of sulfur and fires, still burning the husks of the buildings. I felt the familiar shape of the box in my hands, and as I walked past a particularly large building, I began to remember something from my childhood; something important, but I didn’t quite know what it was yet. Beads of sweat forming on my forehead as I walked past the flaming ruins of what used to be a park, again, another memory. This time the memory was stronger, and it scared me; I hadn’t remembered anything from my childhood since everyone left. I looked at the box for comfort, and instantly another memory flashed in my head. I fell to my knees, the sharp asphalt stung, but I didn’t care. I wanted this to stop! I was being bombarded by memories, and not even the box could help me.
As I closed my eyes I saw myself; only younger. In this same city, but still shining and full of life. I ran around the park with my childish enthusiasm, jumping over rocks and climbing trees. And then I saw it; a dark spot in the bright green grass. Once I had set my eyes on it, all my willpower was gone. I stumbled over to it; my childish mind easily controlled by the box. Once I had picked it up, I knew I had made a mistake; the biggest mistake of my life, of mankind. Finally I forced my eyes open. To my surprise it was already dark, apart from the dancing flames, eternally burning. There were tears trickling down my face. But I still had the box, the closest thing I had left to a family. I walked over to one of the fires and sat down. I wasn’t going to sleep tonight; I looked at the box, completely oblivious to everything else around me.
I was still staring at the box when it happened, still lost in my own head. Someone tapped my shoulder, I spun around instantly. I saw a girl, no older than 13, dressed in once expensive clothing, which was now reduced to rags. “Excuse me sir… have you any food?” Her voice was so weak it was almost a whisper yet at the same time, she had an almost exotic English accent. The moment she said food, the years of not eating anything caught up to me, all in one sharp blow. I clutched my stomach, struggling to breath. The girl was alarmed and tried to help me to my feet, but to no use, I was already lying crumpled on the ground. “Oh sir Are you okay?” She tried to get an answer from me, but I was in so much pain I couldn’t even look at the box. It was at this point that the girl saw what I was holding. “You…” Spitting on my face. I forced myself to stay still, allowing her to continue.
After a long while, she must have thought I was dead, after rummaging around in my pockets, she left me to die. I looked at the box, hoping for some kind of comfort, but instead I was assaulted again, by memories.
I saw myself as a teenager this time, clutching the cube from inside my jean pocket. I was next to my parents, one family in a long line of people. We were all rushing to get on the rocket. The world was at war, and missiles from most major countries were going to crash into the earth with such ferocity that 98% if the population would be disintegrated instantly. But as me and my dear mother and father were boarding, the security guard found the cube. He tried to take it from me, but I wouldn’t let him. I grabbed a particularly sharp rock and re-acquired my precious box. The darkness of the box seemed deeper than usual that day. Everyone near me erupted into screams. This caused a chain reaction down the line, causing more screams. At the time, I didn’t care; I had my box and that’s all that mattered. I ran away that day, I ran into the empty city.
The memory stopped suddenly and I was abruptly thrust back into reality. The sharp pangs of hunger had withdrawn with each moment I looked at the box. Ever since I left my family for the box, I had never seen it this dark. I could almost see something through the darkness, but I suppose that was just my mind playing tricks. I finally ripped my gaze from the cube and got up from the ruined road. And for the first time in many years, decades even, I found the tallest, most in-tact building I could find, and entered it.
I had chosen a large office building, which seemed to shoot straight into the sky. The outside was yellow and cracked with all of the other buildings, but inside it was still brightly decorated and painted, seemingly untouched by the war-torn planet outside. But if you looked closer at the wall, you would see that it’s chipped and cracking, that the paint is peeling, that there was dust in every corner. I casually walked towards the stairs, and as I started to climb up the stairs, I started thinking about myself. Thinking about myself without the box, and to my horror, there was nothing to think about. I couldn’t remember my name, my birthday, my family’s names, or how old I was. I started walking faster up the stairs, occasionally skipping a step. “How could this be!?” I mumbled. But when I said that, I actually listened to my voice; and I heard the voice of an old man, raspy and scratchy. I kept climbing, faster and faster. It must be because I haven’t had any water recently. The thought of water made me dizzy, the years of thirst catching up, just as hunger had. But this time, I did not let it consume me, I climbed ever faster.
At last I could see the entrance to the roof. I slowed down as I approached it, and when I got to it, I let my hand rest on the doorknob. After a few minutes, I threw the door open, and walked onto the roof. And on that roof; looking out past the city, I saw what I had done to this world. I saw the impact the box had made. I saw dense forests burned to the ground. The floor of the earth black and cracked. I saw the eternal fires from the bombs and missiles; I saw the city, in all of its decrepit glory. I walked to the edge of the roof, and that’s when my memories finally flooded back into my head.
At first I saw my younger self pick the box up, sealing my fate, and the fate of this planet. I saw the president of the United States announce that they had lost a very important relic, I remember my shame, and how I would hide the box whenever anyone came close to me. I remember loosing my childhood to the box, refusing to make friends, only watching and studying the box. I saw the president come to my door, asking for me, asking for the box. I had refused, even after he had told me the consequences. I saw me and my family fleeing the country from the president’s hit-men. I saw the security guards push the line of people back, not letting anyone on the ship; not after my little outburst, not even my family. I saw the missile hit the forest near the city. I saw myself walking throughout the carnage, paying no attention to the inferno around me, only focusing on the box. I remember growing old in my apartment, spending my days looking at the box, and then the flood of memories stopped.
I turned around, and looked at the puddle of water at my feet, I looked at my reflection. I was older than should have been possible, my eyes were sunken into my head, and my skin was veiny and pale. My mouth was but a hole below my nose, no teeth. At this moment, all the decades I had been here finally caught up to me. I collapsed onto the ground. The hand that was holding the box dangled over the edge of the building. I tried desperately to clutch it, hold it close to me. But in the end, all the life in me; and in the box, was used. My hand loosened, and the box fell. I managed to get one last look at the box as it fell to the ground. And then I closed my eyes, finally able to sleep.
The Box
I sat on my bed, consumed by nostalgia; memories of my youth when everything was so simple and I could always ask someone questions when I was confused. Memories of my life before all of this happened. I glanced at the glowing red alarm clock on my desk, it read: 2:32 AM. That’s all it ever read, ever since the box. I looked down at the cube I was cradling in my hands. It’s deep black color, so deep that it seems to seep into everything near it. I had made the mistake of looking at it, now I was transfixed. I couldn’t look away for the life of me. “Damn it” I said aloud, there was no one to hear me anyway. The sound of a gunshot in the distance caught my attention. I quickly looked up from the box in my hands, never letting go of it. I looked out of the only window in my apartment. I saw a forsaken city, left to die. Its once great and shining buildings were now yellow tinted and crumbling. The once happy people of this city left long ago. I was supposed to leave too. But I stayed, I stayed for the box. Another gunshot rang throughout the dead city. Any normal person would have investigated, but I didn’t need to find anything out there, as if there was anything out there but death. Once again I looked at my hands, the box sitting there as always. I sat back down on the rotting pile of wood I called my bed, and stared at the box, reminiscing, as always.
I woke up, startled from my sleep. I looked around franticly for the box. I couldn’t find it! My heart began to race. “This cant be happening!” I screamed, I looked over the side of my bed, and to my relief I saw the cube lying there. I quickly snatched the box and began to admire it. My heart was calming now, “That’s why I’m not supposed to sleep” I hissed to myself. But alas, I once again gave in to my bodies will, and drifted asleep, still clutching the box.
I found myself walking around the ruined city. It stunk of sulfur and fires, still burning the husks of the buildings. I felt the familiar shape of the box in my hands, and as I walked past a particularly large building, I began to remember something from my childhood; something important, but I didn’t quite know what it was yet. Beads of sweat forming on my forehead as I walked past the flaming ruins of what used to be a park, again, another memory. This time the memory was stronger, and it scared me; I hadn’t remembered anything from my childhood since everyone left. I looked at the box for comfort, and instantly another memory flashed in my head. I fell to my knees, the sharp asphalt stung, but I didn’t care. I wanted this to stop! I was being bombarded by memories, and not even the box could help me.
As I closed my eyes I saw myself; only younger. In this same city, but still shining and full of life. I ran around the park with my childish enthusiasm, jumping over rocks and climbing trees. And then I saw it; a dark spot in the bright green grass. Once I had set my eyes on it, all my willpower was gone. I stumbled over to it; my childish mind easily controlled by the box. Once I had picked it up, I knew I had made a mistake; the biggest mistake of my life, of mankind. Finally I forced my eyes open. To my surprise it was already dark, apart from the dancing flames, eternally burning. There were tears trickling down my face. But I still had the box, the closest thing I had left to a family. I walked over to one of the fires and sat down. I wasn’t going to sleep tonight; I looked at the box, completely oblivious to everything else around me.
I was still staring at the box when it happened, still lost in my own head. Someone tapped my shoulder, I spun around instantly. I saw a girl, no older than 13, dressed in once expensive clothing, which was now reduced to rags. “Excuse me sir… have you any food?” Her voice was so weak it was almost a whisper yet at the same time, she had an almost exotic English accent. The moment she said food, the years of not eating anything caught up to me, all in one sharp blow. I clutched my stomach, struggling to breath. The girl was alarmed and tried to help me to my feet, but to no use, I was already lying crumpled on the ground. “Oh sir Are you okay?” She tried to get an answer from me, but I was in so much pain I couldn’t even look at the box. It was at this point that the girl saw what I was holding. “You…” Spitting on my face. I forced myself to stay still, allowing her to continue.
After a long while, she must have thought I was dead, after rummaging around in my pockets, she left me to die. I looked at the box, hoping for some kind of comfort, but instead I was assaulted again, by memories.
I saw myself as a teenager this time, clutching the cube from inside my jean pocket. I was next to my parents, one family in a long line of people. We were all rushing to get on the rocket. The world was at war, and missiles from most major countries were going to crash into the earth with such ferocity that 98% if the population would be disintegrated instantly. But as me and my dear mother and father were boarding, the security guard found the cube. He tried to take it from me, but I wouldn’t let him. I grabbed a particularly sharp rock and re-acquired my precious box. The darkness of the box seemed deeper than usual that day. Everyone near me erupted into screams. This caused a chain reaction down the line, causing more screams. At the time, I didn’t care; I had my box and that’s all that mattered. I ran away that day, I ran into the empty city.
The memory stopped suddenly and I was abruptly thrust back into reality. The sharp pangs of hunger had withdrawn with each moment I looked at the box. Ever since I left my family for the box, I had never seen it this dark. I could almost see something through the darkness, but I suppose that was just my mind playing tricks. I finally ripped my gaze from the cube and got up from the ruined road. And for the first time in many years, decades even, I found the tallest, most in-tact building I could find, and entered it.
I had chosen a large office building, which seemed to shoot straight into the sky. The outside was yellow and cracked with all of the other buildings, but inside it was still brightly decorated and painted, seemingly untouched by the war-torn planet outside. But if you looked closer at the wall, you would see that it’s chipped and cracking, that the paint is peeling, that there was dust in every corner. I casually walked towards the stairs, and as I started to climb up the stairs, I started thinking about myself. Thinking about myself without the box, and to my horror, there was nothing to think about. I couldn’t remember my name, my birthday, my family’s names, or how old I was. I started walking faster up the stairs, occasionally skipping a step. “How could this be!?” I mumbled. But when I said that, I actually listened to my voice; and I heard the voice of an old man, raspy and scratchy. I kept climbing, faster and faster. It must be because I haven’t had any water recently. The thought of water made me dizzy, the years of thirst catching up, just as hunger had. But this time, I did not let it consume me, I climbed ever faster.
At last I could see the entrance to the roof. I slowed down as I approached it, and when I got to it, I let my hand rest on the doorknob. After a few minutes, I threw the door open, and walked onto the roof. And on that roof; looking out past the city, I saw what I had done to this world. I saw the impact the box had made. I saw dense forests burned to the ground. The floor of the earth black and cracked. I saw the eternal fires from the bombs and missiles; I saw the city, in all of its decrepit glory. I walked to the edge of the roof, and that’s when my memories finally flooded back into my head.
At first I saw my younger self pick the box up, sealing my fate, and the fate of this planet. I saw the president of the United States announce that they had lost a very important relic, I remember my shame, and how I would hide the box whenever anyone came close to me. I remember loosing my childhood to the box, refusing to make friends, only watching and studying the box. I saw the president come to my door, asking for me, asking for the box. I had refused, even after he had told me the consequences. I saw me and my family fleeing the country from the president’s hit-men. I saw the security guards push the line of people back, not letting anyone on the ship; not after my little outburst, not even my family. I saw the missile hit the forest near the city. I saw myself walking throughout the carnage, paying no attention to the inferno around me, only focusing on the box. I remember growing old in my apartment, spending my days looking at the box, and then the flood of memories stopped.
I turned around, and looked at the puddle of water at my feet, I looked at my reflection. I was older than should have been possible, my eyes were sunken into my head, and my skin was veiny and pale. My mouth was but a hole below my nose, no teeth. At this moment, all the decades I had been here finally caught up to me. I collapsed onto the ground. The hand that was holding the box dangled over the edge of the building. I tried desperately to clutch it, hold it close to me. But in the end, all the life in me; and in the box, was used. My hand loosened, and the box fell. I managed to get one last look at the box as it fell to the ground. And then I closed my eyes, finally able to sleep.