Broken Glass & Hidden Dreams
Monday, June 29th, 2009
Hot; it's so hot.
Squirm.
A hand placed upon a forehead.
It burns!
"His fever is rising; he's not going to make it."
"How long?"
"If the fever continues to rise this way, maybe hours, perhaps minutes."
A sound of remorse.
"I've never seen anything like it."
Another hand placed upon a forearm.
Stop it. Stop it. Take it off. It hurts. It burns!
The hand is taken away.
Falling. I'm falling!
Darkness. Wait, this isn't right.
Whine.
Red. Red. Bright. Ow. My eyes. Fire!
Eyes open.
Eyes close in terror of what they have just witnessed.
A fiery hand that feels hotter than molten lava is placed up a forearm, pulling.
Only when the hand is removed does the boy dare open his eyes.
A head shakes in realization of what he is seeing, in disbelief.
"A-am I dead?"
"Indeed you are," said the devilish looking man sitting upon some sort of throne made of...
bones?
"Bbbut! This isn't heaven. No, please; this isn't right!" The boy pouts.
"Silence," the voice rumbles throughout whatever this place is.
"I have brought you here for one purpose, young one. I see great potential in you. Now, you shall either do exactly as I say, or you shall suffer in fire and brimstone for all eternity here, in my kingdom."
Twitch.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
"Do you understand?"
"Yes."
---
Fire. Heat. Pain. Death. Cursed. Havoc. Fire!
I bolt up in bed, shaking.
I wipe the back of my hand across my brow, a mere habit from when I was able to sweat.
I freeze in my place, then slowly brings down my hand to examine it.
Sweat?
Eyes go wide in terror for a moment.
I continue to stare, body slightly shaking, for hours.
It was only a very bad dream, I keep telling himself.
Only a nightmare.
Squirm.
A hand placed upon a forehead.
It burns!
"His fever is rising; he's not going to make it."
"How long?"
"If the fever continues to rise this way, maybe hours, perhaps minutes."
A sound of remorse.
"I've never seen anything like it."
Another hand placed upon a forearm.
Stop it. Stop it. Take it off. It hurts. It burns!
The hand is taken away.
Falling. I'm falling!
Darkness. Wait, this isn't right.
Whine.
Red. Red. Bright. Ow. My eyes. Fire!
Eyes open.
Eyes close in terror of what they have just witnessed.
A fiery hand that feels hotter than molten lava is placed up a forearm, pulling.
Only when the hand is removed does the boy dare open his eyes.
A head shakes in realization of what he is seeing, in disbelief.
"A-am I dead?"
"Indeed you are," said the devilish looking man sitting upon some sort of throne made of...
bones?
"Bbbut! This isn't heaven. No, please; this isn't right!" The boy pouts.
"Silence," the voice rumbles throughout whatever this place is.
"I have brought you here for one purpose, young one. I see great potential in you. Now, you shall either do exactly as I say, or you shall suffer in fire and brimstone for all eternity here, in my kingdom."
Twitch.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
"Do you understand?"
"Yes."
---
Fire. Heat. Pain. Death. Cursed. Havoc. Fire!
I bolt up in bed, shaking.
I wipe the back of my hand across my brow, a mere habit from when I was able to sweat.
I freeze in my place, then slowly brings down my hand to examine it.
Sweat?
Eyes go wide in terror for a moment.
I continue to stare, body slightly shaking, for hours.
It was only a very bad dream, I keep telling himself.
Only a nightmare.