I have found that in my courses at university I am not required to write anything longer than short answer responses. This situation I fear may be detrimental to my ability to write and as such I am hoping to counter this through writing. The result of such writing is the following short story. I hope you enjoy it:
Whence did the universe come from? I do not know.
Were it god or heav’nly creature did fill this void?
This void of nothing – a being filled not even with chaos or night.
And what of the time when Void will take back its own…
Nadja sat on her chair. It was a good chair, in fact it was Nadja’s favourite chair. It offered a certain amount of comfort to the old lady – who had seen so much yet felt so little. Nadja continued to sit on her chair as she was oft to do of an evening. She sat and she thought.
For you see Nadja was alone in this world. People visited her every day and her chair looked out onto a park where children would play. She saw these people yet she knew they were not real. They were shells – they were ghosts. Every day they passed by living their lives as they would, completely ignorant to their own non-existence.
Nadja felt lonely, she often did, as she looked out at the void around her. Although she knew it to be a warm summer day she felt cold, as if the emptiness that surrounded her – the emptiness which permeated every atom in her body – was sucking the heat out of the air. Of course the heat was an illusion too, everything was.
As a girl she had never been able to accept that she was alone – surely these people around her were real too. They said they were real, they acted real, there was nothing to doubt their realness. Nothing to prove them unreal – yet nothing to prove them to be real either.
And so Nadja continued to sit in her chair, her mind ticking away, alone in the void.
I sit here alone and it surrounds me.
It pulls at my skin, it tugs at my bone.
It rips me apart so that I touch nothing – not even myself.
But of course, it has been that way all along.
Darkness rolled over the sky like a warm blanket over a child. The blackness comforted and subdued but in this light the world seemed to be ethereal. This was not the ethereal land of the twilight or even that of the midday sun – no this was the world of demons and nightmares.
As this world descended from the sky the children looked up from their game. Dark twisted shapes met their vision and they pondered them. This was no regular day. A hiss of static filled the air and rose in their hearts. The sound had no source, it was all encompassing – they heard it merely within their heads, for where else could sound be heard? And as if they had been plunged into an untuned television the sound merely rose and rose.
People in the streets were running and screaming, but the children did not know why. They merely watched and waited as the world shook and twisted. In the darkness many things appear as they are not, thus was the world around them a twisted mirror of reality – it had truly taken on a dreamlike form. Lightning now struck across the sky and the following thunder was almost lost to them – the static so loud now that it engulfed all.
The kids were reaching the top of a tall hill. When they had begun walking none knew, nor even the reason they were walking. Like a school of fish they had moved on their own accord –seemingly drawn to this hill on the outskirts of town where a tall tree stood. On the top they saw an old old lady, seated wearily in an old rocking chair. They sat at her feet expectantly.
One child opened his mouth to speak – before realising how pointless a gesture it would be. He could not hear his own thoughts let alone his own voice. But the old lady seemed to understand – so she reached out, picking up the child and placing him on her lap. And so the group sat there, and waited.
For what seemed an age all was still – nothing but the darkness and the engulfing static. Then slowly, slowly but surely, like the glacier with its inexorable force – the world was torn apart, as if the corners of world were being pulled by their guardians. The children looked from one to another and found it hard to see. They felt their minds unable to grasp images anymore. Each felt the world slipping away – until each was alone, as they always had been. The small boy looked up at Naja and mouthed… “I don’t want to die”.
Nadja nodded slowly, yet seemingly confidently responded “No one does.” And then the blackness was replaced with white. The static was replaced with silence. And the boy was no longer alone. He would never be alone again.
Cogito Ergo Sum
I think therefore I am
I am a whisper in the void
I am a light in the darkness
I am and I will never be again