By the time he was able to open his eyes, his tongue had glued its self to the roof of his mouth and a stale, and yet tangy taste saturated its inside. His right hand had also developed a nasty cramp from having been clinched for so long. Yet when he opened his hand, having had to pry it open with the other, nothing was there at least it appeared nothing was there for he could still feel the touch of her fingers against his palm.
The only difference now was that he was not feeling her hand as if caught in a clasping brace but he felt her fingertip pressing words into his palm. Only she was no where to be found.
The world around him was washed in a grey fog. Darkness was beyond the white of the clouded air. How he was able to see, he did not know. How he was seeing in black and white and sad grey he did not comprehend either.
He sat up with a jolt taking in a deep steamy breath. The air tasted better than the staleness of his tongue but held the familiar fragrance of his body wash–minty with a hint of masculine musk.
The sogginess from the slick ground had completely pushed its way into the back of his dark jeans, yet he did not fill the winter’s chill that had kept him in his shower for a few minutes longer than usual. This however did not stop him from trembling.
“Where am I?” He spoke the words and yet heard no sound, none at all. He did feel her fingers again, tickling against his palm.
He glanced down at his open palm, moist words written in water appeared upon his hand. “You are there. Thank you for going.” It took several moments for him to make out the words, as only two letters at a time could manage to fit on his palm. He had such narrow hands.
He felt frustration rise in his core at her answer. What was her name? What had she called herself? Reflection. He questioned her again.
“Am I your prisoner…Reflection?” He said her name with mocking and waited for the tickle to come again. Why had he been the fool to take her hand in the first place. She had bewitched him somehow. She had to have.
“No.” She answered.
“Then why am I here?” His body shivered again.
“You wanted to come?”
“DID I?!” If he could have shouted he would have. (END OF 15 MIN.)
“You took my hand.”
He pulled his hair and growled.
“Turn on the light.” She wrote to him after a few moments longer.
Terrified at what would happen if he did do as she suggested, he kept his feet firmly planted in the fog. Even more terrified of the non-sound that had begun to press against his back he walked towards the single lamp post that stood in front of him him, only to find it had not light at all.
(THE END…FOR NOW)
So, yesterday when I started writing this, I saw this tail going in one direction (it still may in the future) but as of right now it is going into strange places that I did not see coming. I decided last night that it might be a cool venture to write this story during my free writes, just until Friday…I think I mentioned that already.
Anyhow, hope you enjoyed it 🙂