Faith’s Fiction | Snippets of Existence

Hi everyone,

This is just a little experiment. I’m not sure what inspired it. It just came to me and I let it flow.

I hope you enjoy it πŸ™‚


I stand before the shattered pieces of my existence, the scattered remains of who I was before I became what I am now. And I am more frightened than I have ever been before.

I kneel on the ground and pick them up, one by one. And pause to peer into the past, to remember before I forget forever.

***

I am four. I am young. I am naΓ―ve. I am the happiest I will ever be.

I am swinging, grubby fingers clinging to cold iron handles. I am reaching for the sky and when I am high enough, I let go.

I fly for a moment, and then I fall.

And the pain comes.

***

I am ten. I am in the wheelchair I have been confined to for six years.

I watch from my seat of imprisonment as my friends skate across an icy landscape. Their laughter rings in my ears, taunting.

I close my eyes, imagine my feet gliding across the frozen lake.

Screams erupt, replace the peals of giggles.

My eyes open. My friends are gone. In the middle of the ice is a gaping hole.

My scream echoes alone.

***

I am still ten. Five coffins are laid out before me.

Ten pairs of eyes bore into the back of my head. They blame me, charge me with surviving. I will not tell them that I wish I were dead too.

***

I am twenty-two. Living in my mother’s house. I have not seen my father in five years. He abandoned us for a slimmer woman with a daughter who could actually walk.

I freelance edit from home, changing words with a wish that I could amend my life as easily.

I have never been kissed. I have never been loved. I am existing. I am not living.

***

I am thirty. I am going to die soon because I cannot live this way anymore. My mother was the last person in the world who cared about me. Now she is dead.

There are people offering me their condolences. I cannot hear them. I can only hear the fury pounding in my ears, the injustice.

Tonight, when they are gone, I will end the pain of being alone.

***

I am still thirty. I am an invalid, but worse than that, I am a coward. I did not think I could be afraid to die, but staring at a full bottle of pills turned my stomach upside down. I am afraid that there could be something worse waiting beyond my final breath. I want something better.

Then she comes, a figure cloaked in grey. Her pale eyes are almost translucent. Her dark lips could be coated in ebony ink.

She offers me something better, but I will have to forget my life. She promises that I can walk, that I will be happy, that I will live.

I ask what the catch is, and she just smiles. She will not tell me if there is one, so I know that there is. But I accept her deal nonetheless. Perhaps when I forget, I won’t remember that I was a coward.

***

That is the last piece of my life. I lower my hand, and rise again on two feet.

“What now?”

She smiles and blinks once, long lashes flickering over those pale eyes.  It is the last thing I see before darkness entombs me.

***

I am four. I am young. I am naΓ―ve. I have never been happier.

I am swinging, grubby fingers clinging to cold iron handles. I am reaching for the sky and when I am high enough, I let go.

I fly for a moment, and then I fall.

I land on two feet and beam triumphantly.

A lady bends down beside me. Her pale eyes are almost translucent. Her dark lips could be coated in ebony ink.

She pats my shoulder. “I have something to show you.”

She offers me her hand and I take it. She has a very pretty smile. I follow her away.

FIN

May inspiration flow like ink upon your quill,

Faith  quill-ink

Β© 2016. Faith Rivens.

 

 

 

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8 thoughts on “Faith’s Fiction | Snippets of Existence

  1. Oh my goodness, this was absolutely lovely. I feel as though I have lived a lifetime in the span of two minutes. Your images were so details and vivid which I admire and am in awe of as you used so few words to create this story. I’m so glad you ‘went with it’. Fantastic job! Thank you so much for sharing this πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Mollie for your lovely comment! Your encouragement is always well appreciated! I love when inspiration strikes and the story just flows easily from it. Those stories tend to be the best because they are written straight from the heart πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow…it’s actually kind of hard to put into words what I’m thinking. This piece had me transfixed from almost the beginning. It was dark and sad, and then…well, I can only guess what happened at the end. But you certainly know how to leave us hanging after these short pieces.

    Liked by 1 person

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