Kisker Road Writer’s Club.
Assignment: something that scares you.
This was a practice in creative writing
J:
Dark. The darkness is what we all fear, for we do not know what is in it. While our minds try to create the image of either a mad serial killer waiting to dig his knife into your chest, or a monster ready to kidnap you and send you into a never-ending nightmare, we all fear what is waiting for us under the bed, or the in the closet. As you lie in your bed, take one last glance at the darkness before going to sleep. The darkness holds many mysteries and secrets. If you happen to be in the dark, just ignore what may or may not be there, or the feeling of knowing someone is there, while they shouldn’t exist…for we all fear the dark.
C:
Slowly shriveling up
Loose skin
Frail broken bones and joints
Sparkless eyes
Walking gets harder
Breath gets fainter
Heart beats slower
Memories come too close
The hourglass grains fall
Quickly filling the remains of time
Broken promises and abandoned dreams
Come back to haunt you
Pulse beating stops
The clock runs out
Cold skin hangs onto frail broken lifeless bones
Time stops
Abandon ship, the nightmare has come
M:
The man edged closer, the black ooze came out of his mouth. It drooled down his chin, it dripped down onto his tattered clothing, staining it. He held out his arms toward me and his veins popped out of his body. They bulged and pulsated. I pulled back as his skin peeled open, slowly.
The black ooze leaked from him. A large deposit gathered at his wrists. The ooze shout out at me, alarmingly fast, but I was cornered and couldn’t run. The ooze assaulted my face and my body. It was heave and sticky. The weight of it pulled me to the ground.
I was paralyzed. The beast in the shape of a man stopped spraying the ooze, and trudged forwar toward me. I was laying on the floor helplessly. I tried to crawl, but I couldn’t. I tried to cry, but the ooze kept my tears in. I squeezed my eyes shut.
I opened my eyes. I was lying on the carpet in my room. My sight and hearing was fuzzy and distant. My vision straightened, and I saw the knife a few feet away. The blood pouring out of my wrists had obviously clotted. I had failed my goal.
I sighed and gave into the floor. I still couldn’t bring myself to cry.
P:
Spiders crawling under the skin
Ants in my shoes
Wasps on my face
Buried alive
Forgotten
Crashed my bike
Singing in public
Too close
Horned snake
Daggers in eyes
Dying alone
This is what I fear
My fears are my own
G:
The blankness stretched forever, an endless oblivion. It was the eternal nothing that is always there, always watching. It was indescribable; the same vacuum that stretches between galaxies. The complete and total lack of anything. It spreads forever behind the illusion of life, of death. This is purgatory. This is nothing and everything. The places and the places between.
Oblivion. Nothing. Purgatory. No matter what you call it, it will always be the same timeless.