I awake to the sound of chainsaws.
It's as if they're all around me, lining the bed in which I lay, strapped down and threatened by them. But I can't see anything; the world surrounding me is black. Have I gone blind? Possibly. Have I gone mad? Most likely. But am I dead? Most certainly not.
I pull at my frigid arms lined with goose bumps desperately, the reverbrating chainsaw noise increasing as the moments pass. My body shivers and I can't find my voice to call for help. My memory of what had happened before, who I'd been before, and where I'd come from before is faded, disappeared and gone, just like that, although I'd like to say I can feel it pressing against my mind like a carcass agaisnt grass, like the sky pushing agasint a waning crescent moon. I must have some memory; it must be here somewhere, because I know all of these words, I know all of these metaphors, all of these similies. Perhaps I left it on the floor when I came in? Had I walked in? Had I--
Hot, thick pain rubs against my bare chest as I cringe and scream. Or do I scream? I can't hear myself over the chainsaws, over the pulsating rhythm forcing its way through my body.
"Oh, Merik," I hear, echoing above the sound of the tree-slicers and floating over them like a feather falling to the ground. I try to force my eyes open, but it seems as if they all ready are.
"Merik."
There it is again, to my left. Oh, voice, why must you move? Let me catch you; I'll save you from this horrendous sound that's made me completely deaf, and, could it be? blind.
Somethign rips across my arm, splattering something warm and wet across it. I cry out again, only to hear no voice escaping my throat. Perhaps it's mine, the one circling above it all, the one calling my name. It is my name, I'm absolutly sure of it.
"Merik. Open your eyes. Use your ears to listen. Speak only when needed."
But voice, I can't see, I can't speak. My ears are filled with sounds of metal machines--perhaps if I could just get to the floor and find what I'm lacking--
"The floor will have nothing for you but something to keep you from the dirt, Merik. Your life has been nothing but a waste; you've been living it emptilly, you've been living it selfishly," the voice shifts, laughing darkly. "Who will save you now?"
A light erupts across my vision and I see a room--wooden walls, a wooden ceiling, a spinning fan, fire--and I cringe, finally hearing a whimper from my own throat. A piece of my memory comes rushing back to me--my evil ways striking me in a way I've never felt before and leaving behind a trail of guilt strung across my insides, twisting up my heart and forcing my insides to become like a shell. I want to say sorry, but to who?
You can change who you are, Merik, a voice in my head whispers.
"Do not listen! I shall take you and you shall call me what I deserve to be!"
Another light flahses before me, bringing back more of the dreaded memories.
He deserves nothing. He is trying to manipulate you, My child.
Who are you? My brain calls out to the voice. It's so powerful, so full, so... warm.
I suddenly see the room again, people standing around me, sobbing and saying my name as if it's the last time they'd ever speak it. I'm filled with joy, love, peace and--hope.
I am the One you must choose for yourself. I am the One that will not force myself into your life. I am the One that will never leave nor forsake you. I am the one that will only come inside your heart if you answer to my knocking.
The darkness returns, torturous pain erupting through every part of me, laughter echoing around me.
"You can never be saved, Merik, you've fallen too far!"
You've never fallen too far from grace.
I scream as the pain licks my skin once again.
Can you make it all go away, this pain, this insanity, this guilt in my stomach?
Only if you let me in.
I grit my teeth as the pain escalates. My body feels as if it's losing control. My mind seems to be slipping away as the chainsaws grow louder and louder.
Is this You knocking?
My life, my terribly selfish, hateful, sinful life passes before me.
Because I'm letting you in. Forgive me.
One more cry. The chainsaws turn to beeping. The blackness turn to faces. The darkness becomes light. The little girl pushes a worn-out bear to me.
"You left it on the floor, Merik."
She smiles.
The guilt disappears as an unexplainable peace sets in.
Thank you.
It's as if they're all around me, lining the bed in which I lay, strapped down and threatened by them. But I can't see anything; the world surrounding me is black. Have I gone blind? Possibly. Have I gone mad? Most likely. But am I dead? Most certainly not.
I pull at my frigid arms lined with goose bumps desperately, the reverbrating chainsaw noise increasing as the moments pass. My body shivers and I can't find my voice to call for help. My memory of what had happened before, who I'd been before, and where I'd come from before is faded, disappeared and gone, just like that, although I'd like to say I can feel it pressing against my mind like a carcass agaisnt grass, like the sky pushing agasint a waning crescent moon. I must have some memory; it must be here somewhere, because I know all of these words, I know all of these metaphors, all of these similies. Perhaps I left it on the floor when I came in? Had I walked in? Had I--
Hot, thick pain rubs against my bare chest as I cringe and scream. Or do I scream? I can't hear myself over the chainsaws, over the pulsating rhythm forcing its way through my body.
"Oh, Merik," I hear, echoing above the sound of the tree-slicers and floating over them like a feather falling to the ground. I try to force my eyes open, but it seems as if they all ready are.
"Merik."
There it is again, to my left. Oh, voice, why must you move? Let me catch you; I'll save you from this horrendous sound that's made me completely deaf, and, could it be? blind.
Somethign rips across my arm, splattering something warm and wet across it. I cry out again, only to hear no voice escaping my throat. Perhaps it's mine, the one circling above it all, the one calling my name. It is my name, I'm absolutly sure of it.
"Merik. Open your eyes. Use your ears to listen. Speak only when needed."
But voice, I can't see, I can't speak. My ears are filled with sounds of metal machines--perhaps if I could just get to the floor and find what I'm lacking--
"The floor will have nothing for you but something to keep you from the dirt, Merik. Your life has been nothing but a waste; you've been living it emptilly, you've been living it selfishly," the voice shifts, laughing darkly. "Who will save you now?"
A light erupts across my vision and I see a room--wooden walls, a wooden ceiling, a spinning fan, fire--and I cringe, finally hearing a whimper from my own throat. A piece of my memory comes rushing back to me--my evil ways striking me in a way I've never felt before and leaving behind a trail of guilt strung across my insides, twisting up my heart and forcing my insides to become like a shell. I want to say sorry, but to who?
You can change who you are, Merik, a voice in my head whispers.
"Do not listen! I shall take you and you shall call me what I deserve to be!"
Another light flahses before me, bringing back more of the dreaded memories.
He deserves nothing. He is trying to manipulate you, My child.
Who are you? My brain calls out to the voice. It's so powerful, so full, so... warm.
I suddenly see the room again, people standing around me, sobbing and saying my name as if it's the last time they'd ever speak it. I'm filled with joy, love, peace and--hope.
I am the One you must choose for yourself. I am the One that will not force myself into your life. I am the One that will never leave nor forsake you. I am the one that will only come inside your heart if you answer to my knocking.
The darkness returns, torturous pain erupting through every part of me, laughter echoing around me.
"You can never be saved, Merik, you've fallen too far!"
You've never fallen too far from grace.
I scream as the pain licks my skin once again.
Can you make it all go away, this pain, this insanity, this guilt in my stomach?
Only if you let me in.
I grit my teeth as the pain escalates. My body feels as if it's losing control. My mind seems to be slipping away as the chainsaws grow louder and louder.
Is this You knocking?
My life, my terribly selfish, hateful, sinful life passes before me.
Because I'm letting you in. Forgive me.
One more cry. The chainsaws turn to beeping. The blackness turn to faces. The darkness becomes light. The little girl pushes a worn-out bear to me.
"You left it on the floor, Merik."
She smiles.
The guilt disappears as an unexplainable peace sets in.
Thank you.
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