Photo Credit: jakub (Flickr)
By Carlos Miramon
*Thanks to Brent Charlick for providing me the ideas for this short prose*
I lay there, awake with closed eyes. I felt nothing, heard nothing.
I was nothing.
Only the slight murmurs of past lives escape my lips. The static feeling is embedded in my body, next to nothing. There were only flashes of images, desaturated and mute, from previous lifetimes.
But this was different, I wasn’t empty.
I was…feeling, I was…awake.
The black image still shrouded me, trying to pull me back, back to where I came from, where I belonged. Until I opened my eyes.
At first, everything was a blur, sort of like, a broken camera. The images floated around me, as one seemed to be in a rage, commanding the rest of the figures to leave.
I fall back into the slumber.
As I intrude the darkness, I hear weeping. A female voice pierces my thoughts.
“It’s okay, it’s over now, you’re okay.”
As confused as I already am, I assumed this to be another flashback.
But this felt almost…real. The thought petrifies me.
“Wake, wake up. Please wake up.”
Who was this being? My eyes refused to open, even if I will them to. They only close into another darkness.
I’m suddenly struck with pain, and shout out in agony.
“No! Don’t do this to me! Please, wake up!”
As I succumb to the pain, her image flashes across my eyes. I recognized her! It’s-
Another punch of pain sends my thoughts scrambling, and is relived every few moments, causing my unknown body to jolt in random directions.
“Don’t do this to me! Stop Please!”
The sound of a soft continuous whine suddenly intrudes my bearings, slowly fading out into the darkness. The pain stops.
Her voice shines through the black wall, now in a state of frantic despair.
“Please, it’s over! Don’t go away, please…I love you so…much. Come back.”
I never left, but my conscious drifts further, to where I don’t know, but it heads towards a leading voice. One that I didn’t recognize.
It whispers in a distorted croak,”Bré zuóméngle.”
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