The darkness had ceased to exist. Because that was all there was now. Black. The perfect canvas for mind demons to run wild, and to rule. All that is left now is that small, voice that whispers in your ear. Part of you knows it means you harm. But that's only part of you. A very small part.
That voice is a siren. Dangerous, yes, but also irresistibly alluring. The siren is just speaking the truth, after all. It's not telling you anything new. Only what you already know. Black is all there is now. Dark. But the dark, and the shadows, are a comfort. Because they allow you a place to hide. It feels safer in the dark, even if it is cold as ice.
You don't want colour anymore. The colours are too bright. So bright, they seem sure not just to blind, but to burn as well. Here in the black, the concrete cold numbs any pain you might've felt otherwise. Pain you know well. You've felt it before, and you have no desire to revisit those sharp, stinging sensations again.
The longer you stay in this blackness, the quieter the siren seems to become. Until the siren falls silent completely. The lack of noise... the absence of the siren's whisperings, are not things you're used to. It's a little disorientating to begin with, but you soon grow used to it. Even come to relish it. The siren doesn't say anything anymore because they don't need to. You've willingly joined their cool dark sanctuary, and it has become yours too. Your cool, dark, solitary and silent sanctuary.
No comments:
Post a Comment