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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/999887
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by Xiea Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Book · Other · #2235418
So when I write, I'll write.
#999887 added December 8, 2020 at 6:52pm
Restrictions: None
The whispering puppeteer
I was in a bottomless abyss, with just one thin thread connecting the two ends in the name of footing. I had been walking for days on this bare thread. It pierced my feet bone deep, or so it seemed, for it hurt so much. I couldn't see anything except for this soft, beautiful white light that flickered mockingly at the end of the tunnel like a dying star, but it never really died. It knew that it was the one and only thing that had a different color from the rest of the pitch black tunnel, so it didn't real fear any competition from any other light source, because there was no possibility of it. It flickered endlessly, undying, cruelly beckoning me, or anyone for that matter who bothered to come in here. But unfortunately, it had no affect on me, because I had no desire to reach it.

My feet were bleeding continuously and all the blood clots from the past days made them rough and coarse and I couldn't help wondering how the loss of blood hadn't killed me yet. I was glad they weren't numb, because all the warm blood tricking down and falling into the nothingness, all the pain was the best feeling I had ever experienced. It was like a drug to me, and I just knew that it was the only reason I had ever found to want to go on. If it stopped, then I wouldn't be able to live on. Not that death was an option I had, but I'd lose the only internal drive I had to live on.

The darkness was blinding me, enveloping me, consuming me, comforting me, reminding me that I'm too broken to be fixed, convincing me to give up and stop trying already.

Giving up and letting go... My helplessness was calling out to me, smiling at me warmly, so sweetly, and I was sure that no one had ever cared so much about me. It beckoned me in the sweetest voice I had ever heard, velvety and deep, consoling, healing and soothing me. I knew that I had always belonged in its arms, deep in its embrace, in it's warmth, like a baby in his mother's womb, with no cares, and nothing to worry about.

I tried once again to reach out to it. I was so close... all that I had to do was lose my balance and fall off into the bottomless abyss. But your callous, hateful strings, that connected you to me and ruthlessly controlled my body, yanked me back up like every other time I had tried earlier in vain. I was a puppet in your hands and you wouldn't let go of me.

You made me walk against my will to that vexing, flickering light that selfishly lit up only its end. And you said that it was hope, and I had to keep walking on to get to it. Why would you think that I would want hope? It was so far away, could you not see? I had been walking for days and it didn't appear to be any closer anyway. And besides, it was the last thing I wanted. I had lost faith in this trivial, utopian and non existent concept ages ago. I didn't want to go to that pointless place ever again. I just wanted to plummet down into the nothingness. That was 'joy' and 'hope' in my unfathomable world.

Your vicious strings tightened further around my bleeding wrists every time I tried to reach out to the one and only place I ever belonged. The warm blood felt should have felt pleasant on my skin, but I didn't enjoy this pain because it kept me from dying.

You didn't really leave me choice... I just blindly had to follow your ordain until I reached the damned ray of hope. You wouldn't let go of me, would you?

WC: 656

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/999887