Hello, I’ve returned.
I wrote a short story today. A very short story actually. It’s all self contained and everything.
There is a lot of room I have to expand it and do more, but right now, I’m fond of it’s open ended quality and brevity.
Please let me know what you think! Do you think it should be expanded, or would it be best left alone, as is?
It’s hard to breath here. You can’t feel yourself … not even the fabric of the ripped clothing you wear. If you could call tattered rags “clothing.”
You struggle against the weight of the crushing rocks. The surround you in all directions—immovable giants that trap you like a child traps lightning bugs in a jar. Your light is fading in your own version of a jar.
It’s futile. Moving will get you crushed. But not doing anything will be worse.
This is not a sustainable situation.
You’ll think about your family as you lie there, those faces that you never see to begin with. For some reason, the most prominent image in your mind will be of chocolate pie on Sunday nights.
The terrifying tumble of loose rock sounds somewhere a little too close. You try not to move in response, but it was too late.
A searing pain shoots through your leg. A sharp edge digs into your skin with pressing insistence. Stabbing. You can feel the blood drip down your leg. You want to see how bad it is, but there’s no way to check the wound without further upsetting the unstable boulders.
After a few more hours, you feel tears sting your eyes. Hopeless. Hopelessness is the only thing you have left. From where you lay on your stomach, you can see drifting specs of dirt as it settles into a layer on top of the collapsed remains. It’s peaceful, in a twisted way, and you allow yourself to fall into a fitful sleep after watching the floating dust for god knows how long.
When you awake, you see a line of ants passing before your nose. They march, intent upon their missions for their queen. You are disturbed to have insects so close to your face. You can’t move to get out of their way, or to get them out of yours. The hopelessness returns to your stomach, right underneath the pangs of hunger you’re beginning to feel.
You wonder vaguely to yourself if the wound on your leg will become infected. You hope that the ants will stay away from it, but you wouldn’t be able to do anything regardless. But for some reason … you can’t feel it anymore.
Just when you had become accustomed to the silence of your situation, your phone rings. Your. Phone.
You forgot you had your phone with you. You find yourself surprised by the fact that the battery wasn’t dead yet.
The same could be said about you.
When you try to move your arm to answer it, you find that it is being held in place by one of the many misplaced rocks.
You swear to yourself when your other arm encounters the same problem. Managing to turn your head proves a challenge, but you look at your arms. They … aren’t crushed at all. You make a “Y” shape with your body. Nothing is touching you at all.
Your phone stops ringing.
You try to wiggle your toes, but you’re not sure if you are. From your current view, you can see your hands. You try to move your fingers, but … nothing happens.
The only thing you can feel is a sense of dread settling in your stomach.
You open your mouth to scream, just to see if you can still make sound. The grating sound of your voice echoes off the earth that crushes you.
You scream and scream.
You continue hours after your vocal chords are shredded.
It’s the only thing you can do for yourself now. If your phone rang again, you wouldn’t know. You don’t want to know. You continue to scream.
Eventually, there is a cracking sound. Your voice gives out. You give up with a sigh too hoarse to be registered as anything remotely close to a sigh.
Now that you’ve stopped screaming, you can hear the sounds above you. Scraping. Voices. Machinery?
Tears well up in your eyes at the sound of a stranger’s voice telling you it’s going to be okay.
Thank you so much for reading! Like the post if you enjoyed, so I know to make more stuff like this!
Have a lovely day!