The Hills

To question the certainty of these words would surely be a cruel and treacherous thing to do, for who among the living – if it can be assumed you are, in fact, among those most ungrateful of beings – may dispute that said of the breathless – of which I have become – for there is nothing for us to be gained in dishonesty. What may be perceived as fable is far too bleak and hideous a ponderance to be of the minds concoction. Alas, the tale in which you find yourself entangled, the moment which sealed a fate before it began, it belongs to me; and I to it. No matter what would become; what insufferable woe would befall us hereafter, we were to be bound together in hell and in eternity. It is in that hell I burn, I shudder, I share my most imperishable of moments with you. You who, without fail, shall come to know the betrayal, terror, and loathing, which forever stifle my never beating heart.

Had I been able to partake in the scenery around me I would tell you of the never ending, bloodless mounds. I would share with you of the lands that were to remain immortally barren and would evermore succumb to the unquenching, unforgiving, ever beating heat of the overhead sun. I would describe the silver paths laying to the left and the right of the enclosure – upon whose fleeting shade they trespassed to shield themselves from the bitter rays – one leading to life, the other, more vivid of the two, to death. Had I the chance to gaze out I would describe the rift which, through unutterable darkness, ended the existence of one panel while giving life to another. What lay through the wooden curtain I was never to know. I shall admit– though it is with profound disdain these words are spoken – I was yet withheld from all those sensations which are so effortlessly cast aside by those whose world is full. Aye, I assure you of these sights I know not. Oh, mournful and heinous contraption of loathing and despair! Oh vile betrayal against life itself! All I have known is darkness. Darkness, hell – and that sound, that ever-present sound. The sound that has haunted my dreams and overtaken my reality. That sound was to be my death for I knew, as long as that steady beat, beat, beat, continued – mine would not. My moments were fleeting and soon would come the vessel leading to a torture so grand it would rip the essence of my being right from my vehemently pleading soul.