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As everyday drags by I stand here, placid, in this place where they can never find me. Everyday. Everyday I used to try and find a way to escape this place. Eventually I realised, the walls were in my head - the barriers in my soul. There is no escape.
The hours creep by, dragging themselves across me like razors across a gleaming surface, forever wearing it down. What do I see? All I see is the malicious grins of those people in the courtroom, and the way all those eyes turned to stare at me, devouring me with their hating eyes. My presence is putrid, like a septic wound I am left in my condition to get worse.
The worst thing about it all is that people can't see me. I no longer no what's going on. Here I am, reliving that fateful day on a loop. There is no happiness, the wings of love are not here to fly me to safety. Here I lie, chained down in the deepest realms of my own mind.
I want them to find me, to stop overlooking me. One day I will finally cut through this dense clot, hacking through the foliage and discovering the luscious beauty on the other side. Until then I lie hemmed into a corner, the air is dank and rotten with the smell of dying hope and there is no path out. I am forever trapped.
There is nothing for me on the outisde, so why do I see it as such a liberation?, why do I want to join those who shunned me, cast me down? I had everything and lost it all. Why is this place in such a lurid state? It is like an attic, stock-piled to the ceiling with clutter, yet, the more I move it, the more comes back to take its place. For those of you who cannot picture it, I am stuck inside an infernal game of Tetris.
The strangest thing of all is that I have lost contact with the outside world and yet at the same time I am not dettached from it. I know that I'm not living some parallel life, I know the world exists, I just cannot find it. So, as a man who has lost everything clings to his last penny, I shall cling to the hope that one day someone will find a way to rescue me.
The hours creep by, dragging themselves across me like razors across a gleaming surface, forever wearing it down. What do I see? All I see is the malicious grins of those people in the courtroom, and the way all those eyes turned to stare at me, devouring me with their hating eyes. My presence is putrid, like a septic wound I am left in my condition to get worse.
The worst thing about it all is that people can't see me. I no longer no what's going on. Here I am, reliving that fateful day on a loop. There is no happiness, the wings of love are not here to fly me to safety. Here I lie, chained down in the deepest realms of my own mind.
I want them to find me, to stop overlooking me. One day I will finally cut through this dense clot, hacking through the foliage and discovering the luscious beauty on the other side. Until then I lie hemmed into a corner, the air is dank and rotten with the smell of dying hope and there is no path out. I am forever trapped.
There is nothing for me on the outisde, so why do I see it as such a liberation?, why do I want to join those who shunned me, cast me down? I had everything and lost it all. Why is this place in such a lurid state? It is like an attic, stock-piled to the ceiling with clutter, yet, the more I move it, the more comes back to take its place. For those of you who cannot picture it, I am stuck inside an infernal game of Tetris.
The strangest thing of all is that I have lost contact with the outside world and yet at the same time I am not dettached from it. I know that I'm not living some parallel life, I know the world exists, I just cannot find it. So, as a man who has lost everything clings to his last penny, I shall cling to the hope that one day someone will find a way to rescue me.
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As everyday drags by I stand here, placid, in this place where they can never find me. Everyday. Everyday I used to try and find a way to escape this place. Eventually I realised, the walls were in my head - the barriers in my soul. There is no escape.
The hours creep by, dragging themselves across me like razors across a gleaming surface, forever wearing it down. What do I see? All I see is the malicious grins of those people in the courtroom, and the way all those eyes turned to stare at me, devouring me with their hating eyes. My presence is putrid, like a septic wound I am left in my condition to get worse.
The worst thing about it all is that people can't see me. I no longer no what's going on. Here I am, reliving that fateful day on a loop. There is no happiness, the wings of love are not here to fly me to safety. Here I lie, chained down in the deepest realms of my own mind.
I want them to find me, to stop overlooking me. One day I will finally cut through this dense clot, hacking through the foliage and discovering the luscious beauty on the other side. Until then I lie hemmed into a corner, the air is dank and rotten with the smell of dying hope and there is no path out. I am forever trapped.
There is nothing for me on the outisde, so why do I see it as such a liberation?, why do I want to join those who shunned me, cast me down? I had everything and lost it all. Why is this place in such a lurid state? It is like an attic, stock-piled to the ceiling with clutter, yet, the more I move it, the more comes back to take its place. For those of you who cannot picture it, I am stuck inside an infernal game of Tetris.
The strangest thing of all is that I have lost contact with the outside world and yet at the same time I am not dettached from it. I know that I'm not living some parallel life, I know the world exists, I just cannot find it. So, as a man who has lost everything clings to his last penny, I shall cling to the hope that one day someone will find a way to rescue me.
The hours creep by, dragging themselves across me like razors across a gleaming surface, forever wearing it down. What do I see? All I see is the malicious grins of those people in the courtroom, and the way all those eyes turned to stare at me, devouring me with their hating eyes. My presence is putrid, like a septic wound I am left in my condition to get worse.
The worst thing about it all is that people can't see me. I no longer no what's going on. Here I am, reliving that fateful day on a loop. There is no happiness, the wings of love are not here to fly me to safety. Here I lie, chained down in the deepest realms of my own mind.
I want them to find me, to stop overlooking me. One day I will finally cut through this dense clot, hacking through the foliage and discovering the luscious beauty on the other side. Until then I lie hemmed into a corner, the air is dank and rotten with the smell of dying hope and there is no path out. I am forever trapped.
There is nothing for me on the outisde, so why do I see it as such a liberation?, why do I want to join those who shunned me, cast me down? I had everything and lost it all. Why is this place in such a lurid state? It is like an attic, stock-piled to the ceiling with clutter, yet, the more I move it, the more comes back to take its place. For those of you who cannot picture it, I am stuck inside an infernal game of Tetris.
The strangest thing of all is that I have lost contact with the outside world and yet at the same time I am not dettached from it. I know that I'm not living some parallel life, I know the world exists, I just cannot find it. So, as a man who has lost everything clings to his last penny, I shall cling to the hope that one day someone will find a way to rescue me.
Very nice. Some excellent descriptions I thought.
For some reason, I was reminded of The Pit and The Pendulum. Strange...
For some reason, I was reminded of The Pit and The Pendulum. Strange...
Very good I liked. It ha funny you should mention The Pit found in the bookshelf in my Tutor room at school today. Is it good?
C®ø§$ Bób wrote:
> Very good I liked. It ha funny you should mention The Pit found in the
> bookshelf in my Tutor room at school today. Is it good?
Classic Horror, Crossbob, you should read it...
> Very good I liked. It ha funny you should mention The Pit found in the
> bookshelf in my Tutor room at school today. Is it good?
Classic Horror, Crossbob, you should read it...
Interesting, putting yourself into the mind of that person.
Nicely described...
Nicely described...
pb wrote:
> C®ø§$ Bób wrote:
> Very good I liked. It ha funny you should mention The Pit found in
> the
> bookshelf in my Tutor room at school today. Is it good?
>
> Classic Horror, Crossbob, you should read it...
Yeah I will borrow it from the shelf at school tomorrow.
> C®ø§$ Bób wrote:
> Very good I liked. It ha funny you should mention The Pit found in
> the
> bookshelf in my Tutor room at school today. Is it good?
>
> Classic Horror, Crossbob, you should read it...
Yeah I will borrow it from the shelf at school tomorrow.
As much as that comment relates to the story...
I've never read the Pendulum but I read the Pit quite a while back, however, it wasn't one of those things that I was really influenced by.
The book was a good horror story but it somehow wasn't quite my style. This time I didn't really even consider horror, it was more a study of character and environment.
Perhaps a little grotesque, but hopefully vivid with a clear subject (Y)
I've never read the Pendulum but I read the Pit quite a while back, however, it wasn't one of those things that I was really influenced by.
The book was a good horror story but it somehow wasn't quite my style. This time I didn't really even consider horror, it was more a study of character and environment.
Perhaps a little grotesque, but hopefully vivid with a clear subject (Y)
I really liked that, you have a very big chance of winning.
Read the Pit last week very good book, and yes your story was a lot like that. GREAT.
I liked it. Very atmospheric, reminds me of some stuff Rickoss has written. Not that I'm saying you've copied or anything like that, it's just similiar in styling. Which I liked. Well done.
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