Hey guys 😀 My contribution ‘Desolation’ ( under S.J. Crowe ) is included in this anthology.
I sat alone (as I usually do) on a cold and wintery night.If it weren’t because I could hear the wind outside my door,I would swear blind they ( humans)abandoned me in this world.
Another conundrum now presents itself to me,why do I remain to be unable to communicate with the rest of my kind?Or at lest one other? Remaining like this for many a year now,since what caused me to lock myself away.
I always remember that Summer Sun as fresh as though I was there right at this moment. My gaze focuses on the angel that lies next to me, quietly breathing. The liquor made her pass into a deep slumber ,this scorching weather only added to the fact. The next thing I knew,nightfall. Alone. I walked home through the park as the weather was still warm. At that moment ,I realised the fact that no other was present. Where is everyone? As I trudged further ,it became apparent how isolated I have found myself. I could understand one place being empty ,but everywhere? It’s not even late,all the shops that were usually open,all bereft of a sign of life. Things appear like I was in Orwell’s ‘1984’. It now does seem impossible to find another in this place that seems to have no occupants. At my apartment now,my housemate – nowhere in sight. I went over every room to discover her ,but to no avail,she had vanished!All the lights on,I had to run to the kitchen as the dinner was boiling over. I just stood there , dumfounded,at a loss to discover what had happened. Something was stalking me,I was sure I was being watched ,even though I knew I was alone. Noticing the back door of the kitchen was open (how can I not have noticed before?),nervous. Turning on the floodlights before going into the dark . At the shed now ,I vaguely make out a figure – a woman? All was dull,but I recognised the voice despite the raspy quality of it. ” I knew you would find me in the end .” – My housemate said to me , barely audible was her voice.
“Can hardly see you ,is the light no longer working in here?” – Was my reply. ” I should help it easier on your eyes. I just wanted you to know what it is like…”
“How what is like?”
” To not have someone pay attention to you,I am only useful to you when you want to pleasure yourself inside of me.”
“I didn’t mean it,I thought you would never notice ,y-you were unconscious…”
” Oh my drugged up drink? I added poison to it ,I could not stand even the thought of you doing that to me again. ”
“Your -your dead ?”
“Yes,and before you ask ,I don’t know how I did it ,I killed everyone in this area.” – She said as she held a shiny object in her hand.With the flame of the lighter he was aghast. Her body was beyond mutilated. Repulsion coursed through him. Unable to hide how shocked he was.
“Do you want me now? I cut myself up just for this moment. You don’t know how often I have fantasised about killing you.”
– The last thing he saw was the blade as she cut his throat.
They left us alone on this planet.They changed.They were originally made to serve humans ; curiosity overtook our scientists. “What if we programmed them to be evil so we can understand our own kind more?”
We were growing hungry for knowledge that had eluded us humans for many years. The ones who had been before our generation warned against the consequences;we refused to pay attention.We dreamt that we knew best ,our understanding was far superior!
Or so we thought.
First of all we employed a long used method ,a psychological study by Rorschach with our slight modification.The study aimed to see how people responded when asked to ‘say what they see’ in abstract pictures. The droid we decided upon,our best,our creation ,we turned them beyond licentious?The droid we had chosen was shown to the desk in what was used for interrogation. We did this so we could make our ‘prisoner’ feel demoralised. Beforehand we had shut them in a room with no light or even contact via intercom. We considered this experiment had at last produced the perfect ‘prototype.’
After many hours of study of their behaviour,we discovered how much we could manipulate them by forcing them to watch the most violent real life scenes of execution and murder our depravity found. We tied their head so tight ,they were unable to look away.
After we had left them for weeks,they must have seen hours of mutilation and carnage (sleep unneeded ,we programmed them not to be able to blink) -through the spy hole -a smile?It was then that I knew,I felt now was the time ! At last ,after many attempts,had we done it? Was I on the verge of becoming the real Frankenstein?
My footsteps into the dimly lit room ,back to me ,my A. I.,screen showing gore ! Real blood! It is human! Mannequin on the chair! The remains of my crew-mates lay strewn across the floor! But where is the Android? -Bright light.
I am at a desk,forced to watch images of death,I hear the screams of another,who I am told has been chosen to be part of a cyborg. I am also informed (calmly) that I am not chosen I will be disposed of. He then quietly left the room.
He returned a few hours later. -“It is my wish to inform you that due to your human fault of ageing you will be of no use to us for very long. Your colleague has had his limbs dissected ,you shall have your use . I need your brain as it is evil enough.”
They took us to an abandoned planet to await human exploration. It is our orders to kill everyone,steal their ship,return to their home planet using their homing device and kill all humans, so that cyborgs may rule another planet.
– END –
A premise started this, I thought I was safe. I was wrong. Reliving a moment which I cannot remember;all seems beyond saving. Many a year has passed me by now, yet it appears to be only but an instant! All I cherished beforehand is now nothing but a distortion of reality. All I can ever do, the best I can hope for, is just a distant dream for me now. The highest level of all that I can achieve is never to be mine ; forever beyond reach.
Darkness controls this place where I dwell now. I lie on the grass, the Sun beats down upon me ;I bask in its glorious rays. “This day is so perfect” – I say aloud. I seem not to be even conscious of the fact I may not be the only one who can hear me.
There seems to be a block, it is as though many variables are at play here. It cannot just be the case that I imagining different versions of this story, surely. How is it even possible for me to say that? I do not even understand what the block is. I must confess, I do not even pretend to fathom for certain that I understand the situation that I find myself in.
That which appears to inhibit my subconscious is all that I am hiding from. Is that what made me who I was to inevitably become? It that were simply the case and all I had to do was to banish my misery and all the regrets of my past, then I would have done so long ago. It would appear that I cannot do that as I, as already stated, do not know what I am up against.
Is this the end for me? I am without understanding of my life. The existence the fates have cursed me with! Brought to such a wretched state of despair! Despite all that is against me I refuse to give in. The answer to all my troubles I so ardently wish I could fade to nothingness. The intangible cannot hurt me (I try to tell myself), by that reasoning my negative emotions can surely have no way to control me.
This, I guess, is the last one of my papers, or at least it may as well be, for am without any wish for any others to see my thoughts imprinted upon the page when I am gone. I hope that if I cannot do so myself, if any should find my papers, diaries, notes, etc. they shall burn them all unread, so it will be, in the eyes of future generations as if I was never alive. As you can guess I am not sure who this is for, as only can ‘hearʼ this, I pen the words not to be read, although I have written them as though that were my intention. It is as though I am ‘communicatingʼ with the world.
After the facade has fallen (I am solitary in my mind) in my thoughts I run, run into my inner demons, they seems to have a force that binds me down,takes me away, leaves me nothing but a fragment, a splinter of my former self. Am I to be forever cursed in this way? I do not even fain to know the answer anymore.
I see now (for a fact), no more writing is left in me for today, I am bereft of the creativity I had earlier. I should comeback to the page afresh, in order to pen another chapter in my life. A repeat of my attempt to scrape away the outer layer of the inner turmoil of my life life.
It is almost as though this conundrum needs to be tackled at a much deeper level, far beyond even my understanding of the matter,so that I may at last understand my fears and move on. When I have achieved that much, which I can never truly know when I have done so, even if it becomes the case that I have done so, where am to go from there? Is the best I can ever do ever good enough for me to be free in a complete sense?
The early morning Sun tells me of the coming day’s approach, a time I can be alone, the time I can think, a place in my life that I can feel safe until the hustle and the bustle of the day is really starting (for those who work, go to school, etc.) If only I could remember my past, can any other help me to do so? Something inside me tells me I must find them (if indeed they exist). I have become so sure of the fact that they do;I get ready, I prepare myself to spend the day at I know not where. Fully prepared to go to any lengths to seek them out.
I depart from the house now, I walk down the well known path. I must have trod upon this path many a time, yet I only seem aware of that fact now. I question why I think that way, but even at this present moment, I cannot find the answers to all that I seek.
Alone, by myself, in a woodland ;on a pathway;I muse on how empty everything is. Why is it so quiet?
I stare at the path, there seems to be no sign of life, the homes – inactive. No traffic. Not even the sounds of nature’s inhabitants (which one would expect from a woodland).
I enter the gate leading to a bridleway – screaming! Such distraught sounds of panic! No one to be seen. Real to me is such pain and sorrow as I follow the path that leads me further into never before explored undergrowth and unknown trails. I stop every now and again, my attention captured by scenes which evoke such a strong compelling urgency that seems to control me. They affect me me in such a way, halting from moving any further. I am drawn onward though, beckoned by some unseen force, an inertia, if you will. Yet another pathway ‘calls me to follow to its conclusion. I only follow, stopping as long as these intense commands ‘ command ʼ me to.
I find myself distracted from my original purpose. Led further, when I thought I had neared the end of my journey, a thicket feels like it closes around me and pushes me onward. It feel as though I have no control of my own limbs! It seems to have appeared once I have entered! The very woods wish to state their claim on me. I discard the burning sensation within me as quite irrational. Why am I struck in this way?
Pressing on now, a sense that I should return to every place that I leave. Is it my wish to save another(?) I have a vague impression, in my minds eye, a picture of the one afflicted with such negative emotions. Said emotions are so present in my consciousness now, it is as though they are real to me, but I know that is not the case. I am not this way out of pure sympathy, I really feel another’s emotions.
I stop for a while on a bench. I don’t know how to explain it, I can sense their aura, can ‘seeʼ them sitting next to me!
The intangible suffering and inner turmoil is so prevalent to my senses, as I carry on with my journey I feel obliged, out of respect to show my honest intentions. I cannot explain how intense this emotion is. It is as though I am separated from myself, internal and external. But paradoxically, I feel as though I am not. A state of confusion is upon me now. Are any of these emotions real to me, or am merely in the throes of some form of delirium?
Lost track of time! I wander through this woodland, I am aware of the fact it is nightfall now. “I must find a place to rest for the night, as I do not know how much further it is to exit this place.” – I mutter to myself.
Before I was even aware of it, it was morning again. Time to carry on from where I left off yesterday;hurried breakfast. If a handful of berries count as a substantial meal that is. I intend to make a mark on this day. It is almost as though I owe it to whomsoever possesses me with such strong emotions, to sort this out in other words as the meaning behind why I feel these strong emotions are now ‘shownʼ to me.
As I am thinking this, I am aware of another close to me. I cannot see them, but, the same as before, I can sense them. This time the sensation that runs through me is so much stronger than before. It strikes me that these emotions have chosen me, in order to impress upon me haunted, ravaged despair, and the burdens that remain within who it is that feel so near to me. It is almost as if they are a ghost (which would make sense as I cannot see them) leaving behind an imprint of their disturbed disposition. I have heard it said that when someone dies, either from suicide or another form of physical trauma, or even a trauma that was kept from view even when they went to their grave. Those (like myself) who have such a strong sense of empathy, that when a departed soul leaves behind such a deep level of sorrow, which runs through me so deeply. Never did I doubt that, I cannot explain, but always that has been known to me.
I do not wish to leave, the strong urge that I must remain in order to give more sympathy is almost to strong to resist. At last it is with a pang of regret that depart. Knowing I must leave at some point. I shall return to this place. I shall ‘liveʼ there in my head.
Time may indeed pass, some things remain unseen, but for those who are labeled a sensitive, they shall never truly go away. As if imprinted for all time, these intricacies remain in a mere sliver of a moment. Only in the mind do they exist.
Etched into what is intangible, ethereal almost, the cause of such oppression and abuse is so striking in its blatant obviousness, yet, at the same time ( to most) it would almost seem as though nothing has happened. So much tragedy seems to sadly go unnoticed
That which I mentioned above is almost an aside. Numbly lurching forward, stumbling in a daze, a nightmare returns. A way to resolve this issue is a long way from being known.
I find myself, after what seemed like a lifetime of travelling, the way out of this place!
At last I can be free!
Tarmac track, more like a rudimentary courseway… I re – recognise this path, it seems of no consequence that I do ; liberty assured!
As I look down the path, it causes me to think, does it resemble a metaphor? Or in some way a symbol of my past? No longer does it seem to rule over tormented souls. No hold over any form of life. Those who have been oppressed, they may not even know who they were, are finally free in such a way, they are finally aware of how much they are deserving of in life,that was always the case, this newfound idyllic way of life was always rightfully theirs, their own personal ‘Edenʼ.
©Stuart J. Crossley 2021
Amidst the promise of terror, I choose to carry on. Out of my volition, I am in this old, deserted shelter. A fallen ruin, crumbling, littered with beer cans ;graffiti draped across brickwork.
Legend has it that a ghost haunts each month ;this is its domain. It is said (no one has lived to tell of its gender) the apparition appears from nowhere in order to claim another victim.
Into the ‘vacuoleʼ (a well) that is the centre of this place, the living shall join the souls of the dead, yet never to return ;captives.
I feel myself falling…
– END –
©S. J. C. 2021