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« on: September 03, 2010, 07:11:19 PM »
It was black. Not black as in a defined tone or shade of the thing, but a mere absence of color. It was quite a strange sight. He realized he wasn't. And thus, he was. He became a being, capable of intelligent thought. He had no eyes; and then he did. He then saw what was truly upon him: a magnificent box of glass had entrapped him. Disturbing as this was, he was curious as to the feeling of the glass. And then he realized he had no fingers, and then he did. The glass felt like the glass he used to know. Used to know? Such a thought boggled his mind.
He attempted a sigh, then realized no mouth was present. And then there was. He took the time to correct himself and place all of his parts in their places. He felt unhinged from reality, detatched from what bound the others-- others? What others? It felt as if he was remembering but at the same time losing most of it, only remembering the parts that made him want to remember it more. Thin clouds began to form around the box. And then he remembered her: a beautiful maiden, who he had a strong feeling for, it made him feel odd in the pit of his stomach. He felt a presence in the center of the box, and he turned. An apple lay arest on the floor; or what could be the roof, he had no sense of direction here. Reguardless, he lifted the apple and an overwhelming force made him consume a bite.
Immediately he was swarmed with memories of those he loved; those he loathed; and those he had done buisness with. It was a painful revelation; yet pain was something he had no memory of. Another urge, and he submitted. Memories of painful experiences; a leg contorted at an odd angle, children crying, a young man screaming as he held a bleeding woman in his arms... Tears stung his eyes, yet he was compelled to take another bite, and he was flooded with feelings of compassion and lust, although these were quite sparce.
Once again, the bleeding woman had inserted herself into these memories-- yet this time, she seemed happy. Smiling, unharmed.
Again, he took a bite of the apple that bestowed upon him so much-- this time, not out of need, but out of desire. The desire for more knowledge, the desire for power. The last bite rushed him with rage, and the need for revenge. Revenge from what, he knew not. But it was strong. He was being filled with images of a dead man. A third player in this field, he looked unlike the previously viewed man, and certainly not the woman. The memories of this man were all of him bleeding and screaming in pain. I was too much for him. He pushed it away. He dropped the apple core and looked around. Clouds of varying colors had all gathered around the box, and cracks were forming in the ceiling.
"Open..." a voice said.
"Open... now..." With each syllable, the cracks in the roof grew bigger. The box was about to break, and he braced for impact.
"Open... Now..." Shards plummeted and the clouds entered his safe room and consumed him. He let out a bloodcurdling scream, and suddenly he was in a room, and on the bed was the man he had remembered, whimpering in pain. He had objects nailed to every appendage; pictures of the bleeding woman, although she was smiling in these. He felt an overwhelming sense of rage when he looked into his eyes, and subconciously pointed a pistol at his head-- he suprised himself with the weapon-- but spun around as the police force knocked down the door and shot him.
Wrote this today. I don't really know what I was going for, just experimenting with symbolism I guess. Rate it if you want. Give feedback. Whatever.
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