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Miss Shadows

'Mine'

10 posts in this topic

I awoke because of a stirring, some internal instinct to open my eyes, and face what I didn’t know. They’d put me in a private room on my second night here in this hospital where I’d come for lung-complications 5 days ago. Despite it being late night and very, very dark, everything from the stench of sterility to the clean, dull colors that surrounded me was familiar and boring.

She jutted out of that flat line, sent my pulse peaking and diving with a surreal quality; through a strangling fear I had to remind myself that the airflow to my brain was hindered by medical reasons. Somehow my terror was not lessened by the fact that the young woman who sat on the edge of my bed was me.

“I see you’ve done some thinking.” She tilted her chin towards the DNR form on the side-table, but I couldn’t take my eyes from her.

“Get away from me.”

She laughed.

“You know I can’t do that.” Words so simple and without emotion seemed also cruel and twisting. I would’ve asked what she wanted, what I had to do to make her leave, yet for fear of her response I didn’t. Could she only be content to sit here and torment me?

“I know you well. You keep that bottle of peroxide under the sink for a reason.”

“Stop." Now she was getting a rise out of me, I felt like someone had looped a noose around my neck.

“Most people save umbrellas for rainy days. But not you.”

I wanted to tell myself this was a dream, an awful, horrendous dream, but then I wondered what might happen if she heard that. She watched me unassumingly; a pretty-faced monster perched on the cliff of my blackest recesses.

“I won’t tell you to do it, or not to do it…don’t you Love anyone? You Love your family, and you Love him, that young man.”

“Of course I do.” Between the pain in my lungs and head, a heavy, throbbing agony seared me badly. My eyes watered, and I couldn’t tell if it was from physical or emotional hurt or both. Why was she doing this?

“I know who you hate too. You hate that first man who abused you. You think he should’ve been there to protect you. You hate your mother for making your life a living hell. And you hate me. You hate me so much, but just remember one thing: If you ever do it you’ll be mine.” Mine. It repeated itself over and over, a snarl and a shriek and wail, and a hundred different shades of horror. It pierced my ears and filled them up until all I could hear was screaming, and that was my own.

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yeah....thats pretty dark....

I hope this is a "fiction is stranger than truth" story....

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Oh I liked this a lot.

The phrase "jutted out that flat line" is pretty interesting considering the setting but for some reason reading about the DNR made me think I would like this.

The device of yourself meeting yourself is rather poetic and really allows the short story to be balanced.

To be honest I liked half your word play, as in the example I gave above, but did not like the other half, phrases such as "the stench of sterility" or "awful, horrendous dream".

Very good overall especially since it left me wondering one thing, what the peroxide was for?

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She probably meant bleach....to drink...

Just a guess

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Oh I liked this a lot.

The phrase "jutted out that flat line" is pretty interesting considering the setting but for some reason reading about the DNR made me think I would like this.

The device of yourself meeting yourself is rather poetic and really allows the short story to be balanced.

To be honest I liked half your word play, as in the example I gave above, but did not like the other half, phrases such as "the stench of sterility" or "awful, horrendous dream".

Very good overall especially since it left me wondering one thing, what the peroxide was for?

Basically what Mule said. Thanks for the honest critique hun.

She probably meant bleach....to drink...

Just a guess

No, I meant peroxide, which would basically have the same end-result as bleach if you drank enough of it.

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dark... deep......

liked it.

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shaky in the knees...very very good !!!

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Thank you everyone for your feedback, it's not taken for granted.

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you have any more...?

''...pretty-faced monster perched on the cliff of my blackest recesses." --I like that line.

Once again: you have any more?

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you have any more...?

''...pretty-faced monster perched on the cliff of my blackest recesses." --I like that line.

Once again: you have any more?

Hm, of this? Not for now, sometimes I flit around on a couple projects, or leave some as is. I'm glad you (I think) liked it though.

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