Short narrative
Hello guys, I'm procrastinating university work so I decided to write a little short story. Well the beginning of it anyway. The writing style is a little different from usual, but I've been reading lots of novels lately and I just decided to give this writing style a go :) Maybe I'll use a little more figurative language next time.
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Part 1: Dreams of fire
Hot. Burning. Pain. I can feel it, smell it, touch it and even taste it; the acid at the back of my throat as I try to hold in the scream that is fighting to claw it's way out of my mouth. I almost convince myself that I'm blind, but I'm not. Surely if I were blind I would not be able to see the red, a bright angry colour imprinted on the back of my eyelids. Something stirs at the back of my mind but the pain is too much for me to give it a second thought. All I can concentrate on is the heat, the searing pain that is growing inside me, the flames that lick greedily at my limbs. I feel like clawing everywhere; my face, my body. Anything to get rid of the fire. I want to scream and scream and scream, but I cannot escape. It's a test, that's all I can manage to remember.
All I can do is endure, stay silent, stay calm and focused. I have to do this for him, even as the monster continues searing at me, hungrily consuming everything I have. I feel as if I have nothing left to burn, I cannot move but somehow the fire continues on, an inferno that makes each second that ticks by harder to bear. I'm about to let go, to allow the tide of inky blackness wash over me, to release the sounds of suffering and pain which are trapped behind my tightly pressed lips. This is it I think, the moment where the futility of my effort comes to an end. I try to picture his face one last time, the sound of his voice, his laughter but I cannot. I come up to a blank wall. Every inch of me is tensed up like a coiled spring, waiting for death to claim it at any second.
All of a sudden, I'm falling - dropping fast like a burnt rag doll into an abyss of darkness. Somehow, the pain follows me albeit somehow a different kind. I didn't think it'd hurt when I finally died. Just before blackness swallows me, a thought manages to squeeze it's way out: Guess life just isn't fair, not even at the very end.
All of a sudden, I'm falling - dropping fast like a burnt rag doll into an abyss of darkness. Somehow, the pain follows me albeit somehow a different kind. I didn't think it'd hurt when I finally died. Just before blackness swallows me, a thought manages to squeeze it's way out: Guess life just isn't fair, not even at the very end.
A thud, that's how I'm jolted awake and for a moment I lie there, heart beating painfully in my chest. It always takes me a while to calm down and by the end I always realise the pain that follows me as I fall isn't because of the fire - merely the bitter thought that I've failed yet again. I do not yet understand why it is such a matter of grave importance to me though. We're not supposed to have these kind of dreams, not when our bodies haven't developed enough physically yet to love. Apparently loving takes a lot of strength, thats why those who love have to burn - to test if we're strong enough to hold on. Well that's what they tell us, and I'm not inclined to disagree, they're mostly always right. We're not forced to love, in fact most choose not to. Only the brave ones do, well that's what I think anyway, most people just think them foolish. Maybe that's why I'm keep having this dream over and over, even though I don't yet love anyone. It's always the same dream and the same boy, but somehow I can never figure out who he is. Perhaps what they like to whisper behind my back really is true, that young Lena Rosefleet became queer after she started her first day of high school.
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