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I am...

driven by my unconscious 0.52688172043011 52.7% [ 49 ]
in control of my action 0.2258064516129 22.6% [ 21 ]
a set of responses dictated by the environment 0.24731182795699 24.7% [ 23 ]
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Eternal Complex's avatar

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Yonder-chan
Eternal Complex
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I haven't added it because last time I checked it was below the word limit. xD I didn't know if you had edited it yet or not, haha. If you have, I'll definitely add it to ze front. : D


yesh yesh~~~ I has increased the word count!!~~~ >///<
Eternal Complex
Yonder-chan
Eternal Complex
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I haven't added it because last time I checked it was below the word limit. xD I didn't know if you had edited it yet or not, haha. If you have, I'll definitely add it to ze front. : D


yesh yesh~~~ I has increased the word count!!~~~ >///<
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Awesome! I've added it up. xD Sorry for the slowness is reply, haha.
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Yonder-chan


I have a story I've written on that kind of concept,
however I am unsure whether or not it really fits...
Mind if I post it anyway, and if it does not fit I can simply take it down?
Yutora
Yonder-chan


I have a story I've written on that kind of concept,
however I am unsure whether or not it really fits...
Mind if I post it anyway, and if it does not fit I can simply take it down?
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Go for it, I'd say! xD
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Go for it, I'd say! xD


Another question, I do apologize if I am spamming you.
Do you give out Critiques after you read them?
Just curious.
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Username: Yutora.
Word Count: 1,531.
Title of Entry: The Sound of her Voice.
Entry:


______________________________________________________________________________________________


Fly! Fly!” her scream echoing in my ears. But where was she now? Where were we… The impulse of her words still lingers in the air and the soft quiver in her timbre still has chills running down my spine. The sound of the water rushing back and forth on the sand surrounds me; practically inviting my being. “Fly,” I repeat her words. But I can’t. Those imaginary wings she had once glued onto my back were now gone. They had simply disappeared. How sad it is, to see dreams fade with time. To see them end...

I told you to fly! Why didn’t you fly?” I still hear her yelling; screaming at me with all her might. The rush of emotions dancing across my skin, tingling beneath it, surging through my veins – softly beating with my heart. My heart. It was still alive – safely tucked away behind my rib cage. It was still pumping blood through my being.

You coward! You’re such a little coward…” I had cried over those words. So many times… too many times. Standing on this cliff, my bare feet embedded into it, I watch the ocean below me. I can feel the rush of the waves, as if I were swimming in them. I can feel my feet gently pressing into the sand. And suddenly I can feel her warmth wrap itself around me in a pleasant embrace. I was perfectly safe with her. I was safe. “Why don’t you just listen to me,” her voice is warm and aching all at the same time. I shiver as the warmth pulls away again. My hands begin to tremble, hard and insistent. I’m shaking. The sounds of the ocean flickering in and out.

Inhaling deeply I freeze.

YOU FOOL!” I jump, remembering the way she had screamed those two words. My body, finally released, moves back some more – I can no longer see the sand, only the ocean. The wide ocean. What a lovely, gentle, sound it makes. Her screams come rushing back to me, but this time the sound of my heart pounding wildly beneath my chest muffles them. I stare down at my feet. Rocking back and forth. Each breath coming quick and silent. The fear I had hidden is suddenly pulled out from my guts. A cold, sharp hand fiercely digs around in my insides. Twisting and pulling. Shoving and squeezing. And then her touch is back. I close my eyes. I can feel her, her skin warm against mine – pulsing with life. She gently caresses my cheek.

Fly,” the whisper stuck in the back of my mind. But I can’t. Of course I can’t. The wind blows harshly, much cooler than her warmth. “I wouldn’t betray you. I would never betray you,” she now says, her voice tiny and weak. My heart thumps. All I’ve wanted these years was to be alive. The screeching sound of a bird nearly made me open my eyes. I nearly lost her – again. But I managed to keep them closed. I manage to keep her here. Lumps form in my throat, a chill goes all the way down into the core of me. It’s always her voice. Hers. Right there inside my mind. Whispering to me, yelling at me; screaming. Still shaking I reach out, holding my hand out to the empty space before me – but I don’t get to grasp anything. The wind smashes against my being, raising the fine hairs on my body and pulling my brown hair out of my face. The cool air tingling against my cheeks. The smell of the ocean nearly wipes away the warmth of her hand, which is resting against my skin. I take a step forward; it feels like she is pulling me, guiding me. Her hand never leaves my cheek, it is still resting there. So warm. So very warm. I am safe with her.

The rush of the wind ends. My hand closes, the warmth of her hand against my cheek disappears and then I can feel her grasp it – my hand. I tightly clutch onto nothing. But I know she is holding it. I can feel her; I can feel it. She pulls me quicker. My shaking stops. The comfort of her really being there… A tear fights its way down my cheek. The silence that suddenly overcomes me forces my body to a halt. I can feel her hand shake in mine. I can feel her pulling. But my body doesn’t move. My insides crumble. For a second, I believed that what I wanted more than anything in the world will now become true. For a second, I believed that maybe I was not safe with her. Suddenly I can feel her anger grow. The mere thought of her being angry at me forces me to open my eyes. And then she's gone. Again. I sob and clutch my heart. And suddenly I’m afraid. Really, really afraid. She was angry and left.

I’m sorry!” I shout out into the wind. Staring down, I can now see the sand again. I can see the water that softly moves against it, then gently smashing against the heavy rocks of the cliff. There no longer is any warmth; not even a tiny bit of comfort. I am alone. I am abandoned and afraid. The tips of my bare feet now hovering over the edge. “I was your only friend. I always protected you!” those words, nearly forgotten, singe into my heart. She had once yelled that into my face. Angry. I hated it when she got angry. I burry my face in my hands. The shaking has returned. This time much harder – I am barely able to stand. And the present feeling of fear is no help at all. The loss of her touch makes it even worse. “Fly,” that whisper has found its way back into my mind.

I am no longer able to hold back the tears. So I start crying. Sobbing. My silent plea for help reaching no one, not even myself. Everything is falling. Disappearing. My dream of contentment is crumbling right before my eyes. The sky grows darker with the minute and the oceans roar is louder than before. The rush of the wind is harsh against my being. It feels like the rocky cliff is shaking with me – as if it is able to feel the pain I feel. The rush of emotions breaking every ounce of strength, ripping apart that beating heart of mine – pulling out every single bit of hope. Leaving nothing behind but an empty shell. I close my eyes again.

Fly, you coward, just fly,” she now says softly against my ear. She is back. I feel the cool touch of her familiar fingertips briefly brush against my cheek. It is a long while before I finally opened my eyes, even though I fear she would disappear. But she doesn’t. My breathing comes to a stop as I star at her. I can only stare. The brunette figure stands in front of me, suspended in midair. A seductive smile graces her features. Chills assault my body. She is really here. Floating. Right there. I cry out; it is a cry of joy and pain and fear and love. Her arms are outstretched towards me. An open invitation.

You are safe with me, Crystal. Safe,” she whispers the last part. And I want her to say my name again. Because when she does, I feel real, loved – I feel alive. Smiling at her I start crying again. I am ready to take the next step; to accept that invitation and feel her warm embrace. Something inside me quivers in fear… screams. There is something, something very small, trying to pull me back. But how can I go back? How? When she is right here – right before my eyes. Just one step and I can let myself fall into her arms, fall into safety... She would never betray me. She is my friend. My protection. “Yes, yes. Now fly,” she whispers in a husky voice, “fly into my arms. I will make it all go away.” The sweet promise of her embrace is right there. So close.

I just want to be held.

DO IT!” she screams. I fall forward. I will fall into her arms, I will feel her, I will be safe – but I’m not. I’m falling. I fell through her. The adrenaline rush of fear quickly pumping through my being. I am falling alone. The sweet promise of warmth that came from her lips was nothing but a lie – I shouldn’t have replied. “You’re free now. Flying,” utters a voice softly into my ear. She is someone who exists solely in the realm of my own consciousness. She is me – and now quiet. She doesn’t utter another word as I fall. The rocks tucked in the sand are waiting for me. The wash of the water humming the tune of my end. I can’t help but laugh. “Fly,” I repeat her words.

I should have never listened to myself.


___________________________________________________________________________________
Username: Colored SeaFoam
Word Count: 1,925
Title of Entry: Daughter
Entry:


I looked down at all my colored pencils while getting a headache. Each color looked very pretty, but I wondered which color was my favorite. I don’t think I ever had a favorite color though… Maybe I was just imagining that I do or wanting to believe so. Picking up the metallic purple, I faced back to the blank sheet of paper. The picture that I had imagined up was now gone from my mind and the only thing I could summon up was a girl with dark hair, in a white dress, laying down in despair. I’ve seen her many times before when I was feeling sad, but now I want to draw her. The image faded away as I began to draw a face, I threw the metallic pencil at the wall and tore up the piece of paper. Maybe I didn’t want to really draw something like that, then again it seemed interesting. What was I interested in again? I can’t remember anything that I use to do or like… Taking another piece of paper, my first image came back. The lady in the water, she was very beautiful with long dark hair and dark brown eyes. I hope she’s me…then again why would I want to be her? I wrapped a piece of my hair around my skinny, long finger and twirled it. I could become her. NO! I could never be someone that I’m not…though who am I!? I banged my head against the nearest wall and cried out in pain.


The day dragged on and I just sat by the window, watching the rain start pouring down. Lightning flashed in the sky, making the room light up for a brief moment. I turned my back onto the wall and stared at the empty, dark space. I hugged my knees tightly to my chest and rested my head on my knees. Laurie walked inside the room and stared at me with a grimace. She sat down beside me and stared at the wall. “We’re nothing alike. Couldn’t be, you’re you and I’m me!” she plainly said. I sighed. “Of course I know that, I was wondering if you knew that” I said to her hoping that my feelings came across. She turned around and punched the wall. Her fist went bright red and she stormed out the room. “Two people and one mind isn’t a good thing!” I screamed. Laurie didn’t understand the difficulty I go through, to have two people and one mind. To suddenly lose who you are and can’t remember. I was told that I have schizophrenia 2 months ago, but even before that Laurie still was upset at me. If anything it should be the other way around! How could she come in my body and parade around my family as if to be me? The girl laying down in despair popped back up in my head. Her face looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t exactly remember where I saw a face like that. I walked up to the TV to turn it on and caught my reflection in the black screen. The whole realization of what I had seen made me felt sick; I ran into the bathroom and quickly turned the light on. My breath shortened, as I stared at my own face and trying to look at the image of the girl, she was me. A wicked laughed escaped my mouth and I just stared at the ceiling laughing. Laurie walked into the bathroom with her hands over her mouth, hiding a smile.


“Don’t you understand now?” she whispered. I shook my head and tears began to run down my cheeks. The image of the girl in the water came to me and just like the last image, she had my face. Laurie stepped closer to me and slapped me on the floor then everything went black. I took a deep breath as I saw her get up from the floor. This time I’ll explain everything to her…and she’ll go away, as promised. Her cheek was bright red still and she looked afraid of me for the first time. I grabbed her arm, forcing her to stand next to me in the mirror. We looked the same, if anyone else could be able to see her, they would think we were twins. “You’re not the real me. I’m me…and I found myself now. You can just disappear because I want my old life back.” I said angrily. She was staring into my right eye in the mirror. “What are you talking about, Laurie!?” she screamed while facing me. “I’M NOT THE IMAGINED PERSON, YOU ARE AND I WANT YOU TO GO NOW!” I hollered. She took a few steps away from me, “you really think that you’re the real one, don’t you? But you’re not, I am!” she said with a serious expression. “No, you’re not. You don’t even know who you are and can’t remember. You want to know why? It’s because you’re me 5 months ago; lost, confused, and scared to become the wrong thing and that’s just it. I found myself now, but your still here and on top of that, you think you’re the real me.
Well, you aren’t, your just the imagined person…I created so I can see who I was at the time. I’ve changed that. You can leave now.” I told her while crying. A candle flew by my ear and crashed into the wall in the other room. Her face expression was all twisted with tears. “That can’t be true! I summoned you up…I summoned you up, because-“her words stopped as she slid down on the floor, crying.


I knelt down beside her and wiped the tears off her face. “It’s still crazy how real you seem though” I said trying to make her feel better. She pushed me away and I hit the wall. “No I won’t accept that belief of yours. It isn’t true and it never will be. I’m the real one here! Your just a fake me that I created because I believed that I could conjure up the old me. But I was wrong, so wrong. You just want to take over my life and make me someone that I won’t become.” She said, standing up to make it seem as if she was the strongest. I stood up and got right in her face with bald up fists. “No” I whispered. She took my hair, half pulling and half dragging me into the other room. She let my hair go and I jumped on her with all of my might. We both hit the floor and I started to punch her face over and over, making each punch harder. She grabbed my hair once more and pushed me off then got up and kicked me repeatedly. I covered my head up with my arms and dragged my legs close to my body. Her wicked laugh was echoing all over the house. I heard mom’s car pull up into the driveway. She stopped kicking me then and I took that moment and I tackled her against the wall, chocking her. “YOUR NOT ME, YOUR NOT ME, YOUR NOT ME!” I screamed. She kneed me in my stomach and punched me on the bed.


“N-n-no I am the real one! I’m stronger than you b-because I’m real.” She stuttered. Her face faltered and she started to look more sad than angry. I pulled her hair and threw her into the TV. She started to scream in pain and I was walking towards her. My mother walked into the room and stood in the middle of us. “Stop fighting now!” she growled at both of us. She turned to the girl down on the floor. “Lauren stand up, baby” she said softly then looked at me. “You two are sisters, don’t you remember her?” she asked. Lauren finally stood up, shaking her head in denial. “But I thought she was just imaginary…” she whispered to mom. “No! You’re both sisters who were in a car wreck a long time ago. And your dad had taken custody of Lauren for a very long time. You both suffered memory loss…and I guess dad didn’t think I’d ever get both of you. So he didn’t tell you about Laurie. Laurie, you started to think that you were going crazy and you, Lauren thought the same, so you stayed in this room for days, trying to avoid her. “She said while looking back and forth at us. I stared at the ground and my head began to throb. Lauren pushed mom back and pushed me onto the window. “You don’t have to lie to make us feel better! I’m the real one mom… I’ve known that for a long time.” She said while staring at me. The window began to crack and I started to lean through it. Mom came and took Lauren off of me and slammed her on the bed.


“No it isn’t a lie, Lauren. It’s the truth and you’re in denial right now.” Mom said looking directly at her. Lauren stood up and began to sob again. I got off the window, holding my back. “I’ve got to go get the groceries. Why don’t both of you apologize and try to become sisters” she nearly shouted while walking out of the room. Lauren just chuckled while looking at me. I began to laugh too and relax myself. “Were so stupid…” I managed to say after laughing. Lauren nodded her head and sat back down on the bed. She motioned to me to sit next to her so I did. Still holding a smile on her face she turned to face me “I’m not sorry for hitting you though” I looked at her puzzled. “Well then I’m not sorry either “ I said angrily. She turned her face away from me and looked down at the floor. “No you don’t get it. You should say you’re sorry. You’re the one who always comes in here trying to scare me or something, like earlier, you had punched the wall.” I looked at the cracked window while Lauren steadily talked, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. My sister was the one who nearly killed me because she was in denial. “You’re the one with the real schizophrenic problem” I spoke while grinning. She stopped talking and faced me and her face was full of anger at what I just said. “Yeah, you heard what I said. I’m not the one attacking people because of denial, you are.”


She grabbed me by the throat with both of her hands. “Why say something like that!? I’m not really diagnosed with the thing… I don’t believe that. You just want me to go crazy, don’t you? That’s the reason why I could never like you! Always acting as if you were the perfect daughter or person every time you’re around me” she yelled and threw me at the window harder than the first time. The window couldn’t hold my weight this time. I fell through, screaming and I had hit the ground. I looked up to see her through the window smiling. She mouthed the words ‘I’m real so I get to stay’. Mom came screaming at me. I closed my eyes and my hearing began to fade away. The pain that I was feeling moments ago wasn’t there, nothing was. It felt like I couldn’t feel my own body and it made me feel unreal.
Username: Piggg
Word Count: 2616
Title of Entry: In the Fugue
Entry:


In the darkness, my mind whirls. Some days, I lie there and remember. I’ll pick an age or a grade or a year and go through everything I can remember. These memories become so stale. I’ve gone over them so many times, I can’t tell if I’m remembering what happened or what I’ve become accustomed to recalling. Other days, I make things up. I start with a book I read when I was young and I begin to imagine. The Thousand and One Nights is my favorite. I can picture myself as any number of things: the prince sailing the seven seas after being cast out by his father, the all-powerful fairy who saves only the righteous men, or the king’s daughter who is inadvertently sacrificed to save the protagonist. But even that grows old.

In the end, there is nothing new or fresh or original left in my head. There is only a past and no future. In the end, there is just me laying on a cot in a darkened cell blinking my eyes, always being somewhat surprised that opening my eyes does nothing to change what I see. There is only darkness.

The tray of food comes in without a sound. The trapdoor they use is completely discrete. It lets in no light and makes no noise whatsoever. The only way I know I’ve been fed is when I inevitably trip over the tray.

The food isn’t bad. It’s repetitive, but not bad. I eat the stew and use the roll to soak up what’s left. I reach out for the cup of water and as I fumble for it, I feel it: the small capsule in the little plastic dish. A wave of nervous nausea climbs through my chest. There was a time when I feared the capsules and a time when I looked forward to them. Now, I dread them. They are too tempting. Even the worst are in a sick way pleasurable. They make the daily darkness all that much harder to return to. But I have no choice. Until I swallow it, there will be no more food or water.

I place it on my tongue, raise the water to my lips, and swallow.

I move back to the cot and lay down. Although it makes no difference, I close my eyes and wait for the quick snap of vertigo, the sense of falling.

* * *


I turn on the radio and tune it to the classic rock station. They’re playing Queen. I start humming along and eventually I’m singing.

Bicycle, bicycle, I want to ride my bicycle.

I get out a cutting board, open up the refrigerator, and take out a bag of carrots and two bell peppers. I rinse them and start slicing. I shake my hips a little to the music and then laugh at myself. I’m stupid when I’m home alone.

I hear the dog bark out in the yard.

Buster! I call. Knock it off.

He doesn’t. I wipe my hands on my apron and go to the window. I shield my eyes from the desert light. Come on, buddy, either quiet down or come back in. Buster looks back at me, whimpers, and then comes bounding in. I rub his ears and his back and then I go back to the counter. You want a carrot, Buster? I ask.

He wags his tail and I toss him one. He sniffs it, paws at it a few times, and then settles down to eat it. I go back to chopping.

I’ve developed a significant heap of vegetables when the knife slips and suddenly there is blood. There’s no pain at first, and then there’s a moment of recognition. Buster is barking and part of my thumb is off. Most of the first joint – off. I grab it off the cutting board and then drop it in shock that this body part has been sliced off.

An involuntary scream comes out of me and then I run for the phone, fumbling as I dial with on hand. I’m bleeding everywhere. It’s on the counter, the floor, my apron, my shoes. Pain is radiating and I drop the phone. I grab a dishrag from over the sink and press it to my stump of a thumb. I pick up the phone again and realize I don’t know who I’m calling.

I look down the hall and realize I don’t know where it leads. I pause. I don’t know what dish I was making that called for diced peppers and carrots and I don’t know who even lives here with me.

I’ve hit the break.

Everything stops and melts away back to blackness.


* * *


I’m back in the cell. My thumb is whole, there is no blood, but my heart is still pounding. I relax. And then my heart starts to throb for the dog. I never had a dog named Buster. I never had any dog. But I miss the warmth, the contact. I wish I had just spent a little more time petting him. Maybe he would have licked my face.

I stop myself. There’s no point dwelling over the false memories.

The speaker in the corner of the ceiling crackles.

“Is the patient ready for her post-test interview?” it asks me.

“The patient is ready,” I reply. I used to be snarky and say things like “the lab rat is ready,” or “the inmate is ready” but they elicited no response. The voice would just repeat itself over and over again until I responded correctly.

The questions for this test are short and simple. When did I notice the pain? Right before dropping the phone. When did I notice the dog barking? Same time.

“Thank you, patient.” The loudspeaker dies.

I roll over onto my side. They were probably testing the hormones the brain produces while in shock and in pain. How they affect a human’s ability to think clearly, to notice what is going on around her.

I force myself to open my eyes, to accept the blackness around me and forfeit the sunny reality I was just offered.

I have never met the source of the voice, or the scientists who prepare my tests. My only interaction with them has, in fact, been through the tests.

I remember my first one.

It wasn’t a capsule that transported me. They just put the drug directly into my food, correctly assuming that I wouldn’t trust a capsule. It was startling the first time. I was eating, and then I was sliding into the floor, melting into the cement.

Bright lights.

I was seated in a dentist’s chair in a small white room. A man, dressed much like a dentist, sat in front of me in a desk chair. There was no desk. Nothing but the two of us in our respective seats.

“Welcome,” the dentist said. “You are now a patient at a research facility and there are several things I need for you to understand.”

He spoke for a long time. He explained to me that there are certain experiments neurologists need to conduct, but they cannot be done on a person because they are too damaging. He did not specify whether the damage would be physical or psychological. But, thanks to groundbreaking developments, it is now possible to simulate these damaging situations. These tests would be voluntary. All I had to do was swallow a capsule that would be presented to me at selected meals. The tests were non-invasive, completely safe, and beneficial to mankind. “Think of the potential for progress,” the dentist said.

There were many things that were not mentioned. It was not mentioned that if I did not volunteer, I would not be fed. I was not told how long I would be held at the facility. I was not told what had become of the others in my crew. They never told me that they had already plumbed my memories and that bits and pieces of them would be used in these tests. After all, how else could they measure my reactions as I attend the funeral of a lifelong friend or discover that in my absence, my fiancé has cheated on me?

No, the key things were never illuminated. Just useless trivia. My cell is kept “stimuli-free” so that the tests seem vivid and real in comparison. Every object is bolted down so I cannot distract myself with it. The walls and floor soften to the pliability of rubber when hit with large amounts of force so that I cannot accidentally harm myself.

I pull myself out of this memory. There is no use dwelling on it. There is no use dwelling on anything.

I find myself tired from the test and I drift off into sleep.


* * *


Flames, screams, a shrill siren, silence. An impact.


* * *


I wake covered in sweat, the crash still pounding through my head. I dream it most nights. I think this is the memory that the scientists would most like to recreate. It is more vivid and real than anything than can fabricate. There is the fear for my life, for the lives of those around me, and the adrenaline, all coupled with the crippling knowledge of how this ends. A crash in enemy territory. Being taken as prisoners of war and then this. But I think they are too intimidated to measure me living through this. Maybe it would make them feel guilty for what they’ve done to me. It might make me into a human being.

I get up off the cot and feel around for breakfast. It’s there on the floor and it’s cold. I eat it anyway. I make it last. Taste and touch: the only stimuli they haven’t taken away from me.

I exercise after breakfast. It’s my routine. I walk one hundred laps around the cell and then I stretch. I do push-ups and sit-ups and planks and I try to do all the yoga I can remember from a few classes I took once when I was dating a hippie. I push myself further everyday, savoring progress I can actually track. I push myself from up-facing dog to down-facing dog.

My dog. Buster.

A wave of anger pushes through me as I catch myself mixing my memories with the false aberrations they plant in my head. I lunge up from my inverted position and pound my fist against one of the four walls. It yields a bit to my hand, which pisses me off even more. I kick it and slam my head up against it and let out a short scream of rage.

And then I see it. A slim crack of light just about a foot up from the floor. I dive to my knees. It’s an anomaly, a break, an error, an opportunity. I run my hands over it, letting my fingertips feast on it. And then I push. The wall yields and as it bends away from me to make up for the pressure I exert, the crack grows wider. I jam both of my hands into this opening and push at it, pull at it, trying to make it grow.

I pull away. The wall hardens, but the break is larger, it’s brighter. My heart pounds and I go at it again and again until the crack is easily three feet long and inches wide. I can see out of it. There is another room out there, and it’s not a cell. It’s a hallway.

I kick the crack again, and this time my foot goes the whole way through. I can feel a breeze. I pull it back into the cell and stick my head through instead. It’s beautiful. The walls are painted beige and the tiles on the floor are white with blue and green flecks. Fluorescent lights illuminate the passageway, and when I look to my left, I see a red exit sign. I push and manage to pull my arms through, and by using every ounce of strength in me, I yank my hips past and then let my legs and feet fall through as well.

I am lying in a heap in a well-lit hallway and no one is around. I rise carefully and then without giving it another thought, I run towards the exit sign. It points around the corner, to the left. I walk quickly and then I start to run, following the signs and thanking God that I have not seen anyone yet.

I come to a double door, the metal kind with the push-bars in the middle. I shove against the right side and it opens easily.

Sunlight. Grass. A parking lot. I can see a chain link fence, but it’s only waist high. I walk casually now, trying not to attract attention, and in so few steps I am there, at the perimeter, and then I am over it. I am walking along the side of the road.

A road. So absurd. There are roads in enemy territory. As I walk, I try to think of where I should go. I know I should try to make it across the border, out of this forsaken country. I think my best bet is north. I come to an intersection and I look to the sky, trying to see where the sun is.

I turn around in a circle with my head craned back, looking for the sun. Then I look down. There are trees, but they have no shadows. There is no sun. I look down each direction of the intersection and I realize that they go nowhere. I drop to my knees. I consider for a second letting a guttural cry of despair rip from my chest, but I am too tired, too defeated.
Things fade and a tinny voice comes over the loudspeaker.

“The patient has just experienced the new time-release test drug. Is she ready for her post-test interview?”

I don’t respond. I just quiver in anger.

“The patient has just experience the new time-release test drug. Is she ready for her post-test interview? The patient has just experienced - ”

“Yes,” I say. I don’t listen to the questions. I just say yes every time the voice stops.


* * *


There is no peace anymore. There is no distraction in pleasant memories or fairytales. The tests come over me with no warning anymore. They come while I sleep, while I eat, while I pace the length of the room. They fade with the same subtlety. No longer am I trapped in the dark, but in a strange fugue of light and sound and raging emotions. I am confronted by angry tigers and packs of wolves, the old flight simulator from school, and rapists in black alleys. Interspersed are carnivals and hikes in the mountains. My first kiss played over and over. Sometimes the endings to these are perverted. His lips are on mine, and then he is strangling me. The sun is beating down on the trail, and then flames erupt from the trees. I die dozens of times.

I welcome the blackness. It is infrequent now.

When it comes, I run my hands along the edges of the cell. I savor the sharpness of the corners and the way the texture of the concrete shifts when I push against it. I blink my eyes and find that it is all the same. This is real. Outside this room, there is nothing. Perhaps there never was anything before, but I know for sure that there will never be anything else in the future. Only the blackness is to be trusted.
Yutora
Yonder-chan
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Go for it, I'd say! xD


Another question, I do apologize if I am spamming you.
Do you give out Critiques after you read them?
Just curious.
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No, it's no problem! xD
I used to give out a critique to every entry I received, but most of the time I wasn't sure if the entrant wanted it/bothered to read it/etc, so I stopped.
Though if someone asks for one specifically, I'd be more than happy to give one. xD

Also, entry added. Thank ya kindly. : D
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All entries updated! Thanks for the effort, guys. : D
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Ah I see.
Feel free to Critique mine then!
It always helps for the next story/poem c:
Yutora
Yonder-chan


Ah I see.
Feel free to Critique mine then!
It always helps for the next story/poem c:
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Can do! : D
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Gracious Stalker

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Can do! : D


/squeals.

Thank you!
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Yonder-chan
Eternal Complex
Yonder-chan
Eternal Complex
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I haven't added it because last time I checked it was below the word limit. xD I didn't know if you had edited it yet or not, haha. If you have, I'll definitely add it to ze front. : D


yesh yesh~~~ I has increased the word count!!~~~ >///<
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Awesome! I've added it up. xD Sorry for the slowness is reply, haha.

no no!~~ ish okay!!~~
could I has a critique as well though? wink
Yonder-chan


Would mind critiquing mine as well? This is the first place I've submitted this story and I'd love to hear what you think of it.

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