...posted in: Narrations
Month: July 2018 (Page 1 of 2)
He awakes in bed.
He awakes in bed, confused.
But he shouldn’t be.
A deal, is a deal.
The bed is on the ceiling, and now, he is finally wide awake; staring at the floor through the locks of his long hair. They hang heavy, damp with something viscous dripping downward. Downward with the pull of gravity. He tosses his head around from where he dangles to rearrange the mop of sodden curls away from his eyes.
You were supposed to be a doctor. If you’re raised by two doctors, you’re also supposed to be a doctor because that is their plan. You would graduate high school and attend some prestigious medical school and they would pay for it and everyone would be happy. Well, you didn’t want that. You always wanted to write. Imagine their disappointment when you told them.
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Around me, the fire is raging. Around me the house is crumbling to ash as flames lick the peeling wrappers of broken walls and lungs begin to ache. Around me the room is filling with smoke and I’m not panicking. I’m not bothered. I’m calm. In a way, this fire began years ago when I was just a kid. It’s only fitting that this is how it ends. I know now that everything lead to this, I did this. I let her make me this. It’s my fault. Please don’t send help.
It must end here.