Writing Prompt from Cheyenne

You wake up in a dark place without recollection of how you got there. Write what happens next.

Write for 10 minutes. Post your work to comments!


Posted on December 24, 2013, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. ‘Who am I? Where am I? What am I?’ I thought. I looked around wildly, blinking furiously. “Mom? Dad? Where are you? Where am I?” I asked. My voice rang out in the darkness, and I bit my lower lip. I rubbed my arms as my palms turned slick with sweat. Fear rose in my throat as the walls started moving in on me. I cowered in fear and whimpered, feeling very alone. I curled up into a ball and rocked back and forth to keep my mind busy.
    “One…two…three…four,” I whispered, counting to ten. I hoped that this was just a game. Maybe one of my friends would pop out and yell at me for being so hard to find. Yes, that was it. I took a deep breath and kept counting.
    I went counting and counting. I stopped when I got to one hundred. No one was going to find me. I was alone. I felt tears threatening at my eyes, and I gulped nervously. Was someone going to attack me? Was I going to be kidnapped? Had I been kidnapped? Questions ran around in my head as I covered my eyes with my hands.
    “It will be alright. Madeline,” a silky smooth voice said. I looked around in surprise. In the darkness, there was a blinding light above me. “God?” I asked softly. There was a soft chuckle. “I am not God. I am only your savior,” the voice said. There was a yell of anger and surprise.
    “Don’t listen to him! Don’t listen to the man in the sky!” a voice yelled.
    “Your…your voice,” I whispered as the metaphorical cogs in my head turned.
    “Madeline! Get out. Get out! Hurry up. He’s going to catch you, and everything will be ruined. Go, Madeline,” the other voice yelled.
    That’s when I realized how I knew that second voice. That voice was my own. I stood up, looking around wildly. The walls creaked and slowly inched forwards, aiming to crush me.
    “Too bad, Madeline darling, you’re too late,” the silky voice said.
    “No. I’ve never too late,” I cried.
    I scowled and put on a brave face. I couldn’t climb the walls. I couldn’t do anything. I glanced at the small hole in the ceiling. The hole was closing up, and I needed to slip out before it closed. “Oh no oh no oh no,” I said. I brushed my fingertips over the walls. They were solid rock with no footholds.
    “Jump, Madeline, jump,” the voice that was mine said softly. I nodded and bent my knees at an awkward angle. “One. Two. Three!” I jumped, stretching my legs and arms. I was in the Superman pose, but I didn’t know what Superman was or who he was. I flew upwards, my finger grazing the small hole as it shut.
    I fell back down to the earth, my spirits sinking.
    “We…we just have to do it again,” the voice that was me said.
    “What do you mean? I get only one life,” I cried.
    “No, Madeline, you’re wrong. You’re a Reborn. Every time you die, you are Reborn into a new person, but you forget your other lives. You-“ she said softly.
    “Voice? Me? Where did you go?” I cried.
    The walls closed in on me and crushed my lungs. I gasped, but I saw the light. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

  2. The darkness invaded Joreh’s comfort, blowing through him as if he were a ghost. The sensation disturbed him, waking him from his wonderful sleep. What disturbed him more was his location. Or, lack of knowledge of his location. Which, he thought, was no longer wrapped in thousands of soft and welcoming blankets. Drawing out the conclusion of just having an epic dream, and as a result, he’d kicked off all his covers and ended up on his bedroom floor. However, his bedroom floor wasn’t a cold, damp, extremely uncomfortable rock. No, it was an inviting, so-soft-you-could-fall-asleep-on-it rug. He wished for his wonderful rug. Joreh sighed upon realizing that, after blinking several times, he could not see. Either he was rendered blind, was still dreaming, or the place he was in was vacant of light. The latter seemed to fit best, seeing as he was thinking straight, and the sensations were more real than a dream could conjure. Joreh sighed again, attempting to rise from his uncomfortable position on the unwelcoming surface. He winced in pain, his muscles and joints stiff. He wondered how long he’d been laying there. No more than a few hours, he hoped. His family would be desperate to know where he went, feverishly searching for him. He hoped they weren’t too worried. He sat up straight, several joints popping in the process. Joreh blinked rapidly, attempting to gain a small bit of sight. He brought his hand up to his face, in hopes of being able to see it. He couldn’t. The thought of no longer having a hand to see, passed through his might briefly. Plus, he couldn’t his fingers. He blamed it on the cold, before dismissing the absurd idea. Thought, a bit disturbed by the thought, he brought his opposite hand to the other, feeling around for fingers. All eight fingers accounted for. Plus two thumbs, of course. All of a sudden, Joreh remembered the flashlight he always carried around with him at night, most of the time falling asleep with it. He brought his hand to his pocket, and sighed in relief. He clicked the flashlight on, then shielded his eyes that had grown accustomed to the pitch black. Slowly opening them, then forgetting about the light and focusing on his surroundings as his eyes grew wide. He was on a ledge of many in a vertical tunnel. He backed away, against the wall of it, far from falling as possible. He shone his flashlight to the opposite wall, realizing that he wasn’t the only one there. Many of the people were awake, their facial expressions matching his. One person shouted for help, their violent cries vibrating the tunnel. Suddenly, the ledge Joreh was perched on started to shrink. His eyes widened in fear, standing and staying as close to the wall as it would allow. Then, it completely disappeared from beneath him. Falling. Cold wind rushing past his face, whipping through his hair and clothes, as he fell. And kept falling. Down and down, deeper and deeper. Almost reminding him of Alice as she fell down the rabbit hole. Seeing the floor of the tunnel getting closer, due to his hand having a death grip on his flashlight, he squeezed his eyes shut. This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream. His body smacked violently with the others who’ve fallen before him, crippling him less than if he’d have fallen on the hard rock. Still, crippling him all the same, Joreh blacked out. He was luckier than the few who’s falls had cost them their lives. Sometimes, Joreh wished his luck would take him away from this place. Some day.

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