Eldarch
01-04-2016, 03:33 PM
Hello :)
This is my first writing attempt as well as my first contribution to this site which I've been lurking on for quite a while, enjoying different kinds of posts here and there without ever really speaking up. Decided to change that so here I am :D
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Of Hope and Despair
There were so many things that seemed just a tad off in that moment, the sock that hung just below where it usually hung, the sturdy headphones that squeezed onto his hears almost painfully, the jacket in which it was just a degree below “too hot”. And it would have been easy to pull up his sock, give his headphones a simple squeeze and open up his jacket. In the end nothing went unnoticed yet everything went unchanged. Because in the shadow of all those bothers an old companion who was not to be defied lay hidden.
Sitting there with the darkness surrounding him, he felt an icy grip around his frail ankle, reminding him that no matter where he went, he would be followed. Harsh words pressed on his ears, telling him of a life that need not be lived. And from the same mouth that those words sprouted from, a fiery breath escaped in reoccurring moments of roaring silence, running down his back where flames spread beneath the paper that made up his skin. Here, in the dim light that was burning from underneath, a thousand stories were laid bare. They told of friends and family, of their love and support, and of the pain it brought to keep them away. There was an unchanging name that wove itself through all those tales of loneliness and solitude. It was the name of his old companion, the Tormentor, torching his words into this book made of skin.
He never once wondered if enduring this anguish was worth it. On the contrary, he even took pride in having the strength to endure it, laughing at the wavering resolve of those trying to show him a different way to live. A way where he would walk amongst a hundred thousand people that would offer him their hands. A hundred thousand hands reaching for him, tugging at him, pushing him, tossing him from here to there and back. And another hundred thousand hands, holding pens in the shape of knives, waiting to leave their red marks in his book. Even so, no such marks could ever appear as the only one permitted to leave his burning mark in that book was his old companion, the Protector.
In that moment, as he was sitting there with his ill-fitting sock, his squeezing headphones and his baking hot jacket, something appeared. In suffocating darkness, being robbed of the light of day and the colours of life, he could see the intruder very clearly. It was right in front of him: a tiny dancing speck of light, moving to the left, then to the right, going in circles, jumping up and down, all the while glowing brighter and more excited. Resembling a small star in the night sky the light quickly grew to the size of the moon. Orbiting around the lost soul Hope kept the black sea of flames at bay. For the time being.
Tasting the seductive sweetness of Hope, the plaything of the two opposing forces felt a cool breeze caressing his skin as it was leaving its own symbols in a book that solely told of pain and misery. Hope spoke as her lips were touching the ears her words were meant to reach. She told the fragile spirit that she would always – and in fact always has been – with him if only he chose to believe in her. For as long as he believed that Hope could be, she would exist. The radiating entity danced around him, spinning and caprioling, her hair wrapping him in a soft cocoon.
With Hope’s every revolve the darkness crept closer, with every flickering of light the burning ocean grew more restless and the old companion’s claim to the soul became louder, filling the room with a thunderous bellow. Hope circled ever closer around her protégé, filling his nose with the smell of blooming flowers during the peak of a warm spring following a frigid winter. Without hesitation but with a smile on the full lips that embellished her soft, pale face she grasped for his hands. Their fingers entwined. It was in that instant that Despair swallowed them both.
_____
I hope you enjoyed it and maybe you could tell me what you liked about my little writing attempt. If you didn't like it, perhaps you could give me some constructive criticism? :) In either case, thank you for your time.
This is my first writing attempt as well as my first contribution to this site which I've been lurking on for quite a while, enjoying different kinds of posts here and there without ever really speaking up. Decided to change that so here I am :D
_____
Of Hope and Despair
There were so many things that seemed just a tad off in that moment, the sock that hung just below where it usually hung, the sturdy headphones that squeezed onto his hears almost painfully, the jacket in which it was just a degree below “too hot”. And it would have been easy to pull up his sock, give his headphones a simple squeeze and open up his jacket. In the end nothing went unnoticed yet everything went unchanged. Because in the shadow of all those bothers an old companion who was not to be defied lay hidden.
Sitting there with the darkness surrounding him, he felt an icy grip around his frail ankle, reminding him that no matter where he went, he would be followed. Harsh words pressed on his ears, telling him of a life that need not be lived. And from the same mouth that those words sprouted from, a fiery breath escaped in reoccurring moments of roaring silence, running down his back where flames spread beneath the paper that made up his skin. Here, in the dim light that was burning from underneath, a thousand stories were laid bare. They told of friends and family, of their love and support, and of the pain it brought to keep them away. There was an unchanging name that wove itself through all those tales of loneliness and solitude. It was the name of his old companion, the Tormentor, torching his words into this book made of skin.
He never once wondered if enduring this anguish was worth it. On the contrary, he even took pride in having the strength to endure it, laughing at the wavering resolve of those trying to show him a different way to live. A way where he would walk amongst a hundred thousand people that would offer him their hands. A hundred thousand hands reaching for him, tugging at him, pushing him, tossing him from here to there and back. And another hundred thousand hands, holding pens in the shape of knives, waiting to leave their red marks in his book. Even so, no such marks could ever appear as the only one permitted to leave his burning mark in that book was his old companion, the Protector.
In that moment, as he was sitting there with his ill-fitting sock, his squeezing headphones and his baking hot jacket, something appeared. In suffocating darkness, being robbed of the light of day and the colours of life, he could see the intruder very clearly. It was right in front of him: a tiny dancing speck of light, moving to the left, then to the right, going in circles, jumping up and down, all the while glowing brighter and more excited. Resembling a small star in the night sky the light quickly grew to the size of the moon. Orbiting around the lost soul Hope kept the black sea of flames at bay. For the time being.
Tasting the seductive sweetness of Hope, the plaything of the two opposing forces felt a cool breeze caressing his skin as it was leaving its own symbols in a book that solely told of pain and misery. Hope spoke as her lips were touching the ears her words were meant to reach. She told the fragile spirit that she would always – and in fact always has been – with him if only he chose to believe in her. For as long as he believed that Hope could be, she would exist. The radiating entity danced around him, spinning and caprioling, her hair wrapping him in a soft cocoon.
With Hope’s every revolve the darkness crept closer, with every flickering of light the burning ocean grew more restless and the old companion’s claim to the soul became louder, filling the room with a thunderous bellow. Hope circled ever closer around her protégé, filling his nose with the smell of blooming flowers during the peak of a warm spring following a frigid winter. Without hesitation but with a smile on the full lips that embellished her soft, pale face she grasped for his hands. Their fingers entwined. It was in that instant that Despair swallowed them both.
_____
I hope you enjoyed it and maybe you could tell me what you liked about my little writing attempt. If you didn't like it, perhaps you could give me some constructive criticism? :) In either case, thank you for your time.