My story I am writing

Here is a story that I am currently writing. It is about a girl who doesn’t know who she is.
I am mud. It is all that I can smell. The sludge is all that I can taste. Darkness is all around me. Wake up…I hear a distant voice. It gets louder and louder…wake up! My eyes dart open and the sun burns brightly. It takes a second for me to focus on what is around me. My body is too weak to stand, so sitting will have to do for now. My vision finally is back and I realize that I am on a dirty road in the woods.

How did I get here? More important, who am I? The past is so close yet it is so blurry. My name is on the tip of my tongue.Why can’t I remember? Perhaps I passed out when I was walking down this road. I don’t see any rocks that I could have bumped my head on. A dark thought passes by my mind. What if I am dead…did I drown in this shallow puddle I was laying in? What a great way to go.

A bird starts singing in the distant trees. I have to make a decision. Should I lay back down and accept my theory of my demeaning demise or do I go forward on this road? If I am dead I have nothing to lose. If I am still alive I have to find food and shelter.

I start to stand up and the ground starts to shake under me. The trees beginning to spin. Oh, I must keep going! I don’t want to stay here a moment longer. I start to rub my forehead and for a split second I thought I felt a small hole on the right side near my temple. My theory must be right after all. I try and find the hole again, but I can only feel caked on dirt.

I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. Gun smoke and rotting soil is all I can smell. It takes me a few deep breaths before the earth stops spinning. Walking is harder than I expected. It feels like I have lead weights tied to me. The more I walk the heavier they feel, but I must keep going on.

This must be my fate. I must be damned to walk this road for eternity. The sights and sounds of life around me are just a ruse. A cruel joke to remind me of what I have parted with. What did I do to get this sentence? A whiff of lavender passes my nose and I hear a voice. It is so muffled. It goes as fast as it came. A memory perhaps?

Before I can explore the thought any further I see a cabin come into view. A dirty, beaten up RV is in the driveway. Is it another trick? A man comes out of the cabin and stops when he sees me.

I try to yell at him, but I cannot speak. The words do not form and all that comes out is a croak. My hands go to my throat and again I feel another hole. Like before it vanishes before I can find it again. I must be going crazy. The world starts spinning again and darkness swallows me whole. The smell of lavender comes again and then nothing…I am nothing…

Music. I hear music and I feel like I am in motion. I open my eyes, but all I see is blackness. Am I blind now too? Have I entered another level of hell? It smells like chocolate and sweat. Oh God, where am I?!

The darkness is lifted and I now realize that I must have been blindfolded. I see that I am sitting at a table in a small RV. A small boy is sitting across from me. His shirt is covered in red clay dirt and he is missing his two front teeth. Never have I been so unsettled by a child’s smile. Or have I?

A man has his back to me and is sharpening a knife. “I see our little prize has woken up.”, he says as he faces me. It is the same man I saw earlier. He is the spitting image of the little boy except he has more fat and less hair.
He uses the sharpened knife to cut a cake that is on the table. The sweet smell of chocolate is sickening. I try not to gag. I am so hungry, yet the thought of food right now repulses me. I close my eyes. I am so tired.

“Dad, she conked out again! How am I supposed to have any fun killing her if she is going to be asleep the whole time?” Such a menacing thing to come from a little boy. Will this ever end? They keep talking back and forth, but the words don’t matter to me. I have precious little time. I will be darned if I die before I find out who I am.

To be continued…

I edited the swearing. Ha! I have a part two if anyone wants me to post it.

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what is the goal of your entertainment? drama makes people take things seriously, comedy relieves pain, music makes people more passionate about something, learning tells you the truth, news helps you survive.

You need to read more

And get out of dreams

that was some talented thought weaving on a story. good for you.

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Nice.

My phone

And targeting

And the website shutting me down

I thought it was very good :sunny:

Thanks! I have a second part if anyone wants to read it. It is so weird to read this because it was before my psychotic break. I honestly don’t know if I could even write like this anymore.

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@Daze shame on you. you really ought to sober up.

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I’d like to see the second part!

@everhopeful I will pm you the second part that way I don’t have to edit it.

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OK, thanks! Looking forward to reading it.

You would

Happy trails

Daze, please respect other people’s creative writings. you don’t like it when other people criticize your writing, and it’s unfair to turn around and do it to someone else. How was Phil’s birthday? What did you guys do to celebrate?

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yeah Daze!

you know what they say: when everhopeful says “your writing is good,” that’s when you know you’ve made it big. :wink: :dark_sunglasses:

I am going to try and finish this by the end of the year

it was very good, a bit like horror fiction, well written and i enjoyed the suspense of it :slight_smile:

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Thanks @Resilient1!