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Death. Impending?


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Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

The fingers kept drumming in line with the moniter. It was just my method, you know, keeping awake. When I went out of tune, there was something up.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

Just the same two tones, over and over. Pump in, pump out. In and Out. I had been there three days now. Stuck, not able to move, not able to even talk. Just there, rapping my fingers.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

Was getting sort of, well you know crazy. I hadn't slept, no time for sleep, had to keep awake, had to keep drumming. They ached. They had been moving for three days straight.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

But still...I was here and thats what mattered. I don't know how long I can last but, well if I stop I am going to die. I am sure of it. At first I thought it was just the insanity talking.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

But the more I think about it, the more it seems obvouis. If I stop moving I will die. Its boring here though. There are four walls, each with a curtain acrossed it. I wonder whats on the other side.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

Its like when you are young, on christmas morning. When you know you can't get anything good because of the war, but you are still hoping. On the other side are the four walls, and one door, I know that.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

Its like a game though. They are out there. I can feel them. Just beyond the curtain. They refuse to show themselves. A clear sign of there intents. But they are not. I know they are not.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

I think alot about the accident. Sort of glad it happened really. I would never have had the time to work out who was behind this curtain. It was my fault I suppose, I should have been watching out the front.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

But I was tired. It was the anniversery, six years that day. I had been busy, preparing. I was so prepared I was not prepared. What a funny thing.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

I suppose you don't know what I am talking about. I suppose it is good. There is a phantom feeling in my legs. Or where they were anyway. I can't remember where I lost them, I think the curtain people took them.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

I am getting tired now. I need my other hand to carry on. I should stop writing really. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it happened. I had brought it on myself.

 

Ratta.

 

Ratta.

 

Its just a shame how it happened. I should have been more careful. I can't even rememeber what started it all. I am not sure of what I am going to do next. I want to sleep. But I will die.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.

 

Beep.......

Well I knew you wouldn't agree. I know how you hate facing facts.

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  • 2 weeks later...

I wasn't thinking of making one...Just a sort of short bit of a person's paranoia or their life or something that had happened to thier world...

 

But I am not sure of how to lead on from it. I mean I could go to the point that they woke up just before they died. But it seems sort of dated...So I was just gonna let the story die quietly...However if you can think of another way then post it and I will keep the person alive, for your sakes at least.

 

 

 

By the way apply for a Tale From The Library, always looking for new people and its a chance to be remembered as a vistor to the Library and maybe eventually as a loyal member. Also it gives me something to write.

Well I knew you wouldn't agree. I know how you hate facing facts.

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Something new.

 

___________

 

 

 

Tick

 

Drip

 

Tock

 

Drop

 

Tick

 

Drip

 

Tock

 

Drop

 

Tick

 

Drip

 

Tock

 

Drop

 

The clock on the wall doesn't stop. Not today. Not ever. Run by something unseen, an unending battery. Not like me. I am running out of power.

 

Drip

 

Drop

 

My life disappearing before me. Each passing second I race to my destruction. To have come this far and be beaten like so many others.

 

Tick

 

Tock

 

To surive war. And Famine. To live while all around you people die. To have survived all that, and then to be beaten at the end.

 

Drip

 

Drop

 

Sitting in this bed. Nothing but four plain walls of curtain. A plain celling and a plainer floor. Beyond them could be anything.

 

Tick

 

Tock

 

Something out there, something to stop death. Something to make sure death chose someone else, someone who is not me.

 

Drip

 

Drop

 

The fountain of your that I once was. Gone. Confinded by survival. Arms gone the last, legs before that. Now I have no limbs to sacrifice.

 

Tick

 

Tock

 

I have wasted my life, I run away from death. I don't embrass it. Nothing that I have done will make a difference. I am going to die so how can it?

 

Drip

 

Drop

 

Hanging on to that final last drip before it drops its way down into the abyss. All started when I was five. I remember being in the kitchen.

 

Tick

 

Tock

 

The radio was on. Something was on. Mum said we needed to go to the basement. But I didn't I escaped outside.

 

Drip

 

Drop

 

When I got back everyone was gone. So was the house. Ever since then death has stalked me. Killed everyone I knew. Now it is ending

 

Tick

 

Tock

 

Somehow I survived to here. Where ever here is. Last outpost of humanity? Doubt it. Nothing but me and my curtains.

 

Drip.........

 

I am not ready, but then who....who is?

 

Drop.

Well I knew you wouldn't agree. I know how you hate facing facts.

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