|c o l d p r o m i s e s
Author: Jake Cocoa PM
"It's a strange thing, this silence. You don't really understand the peacefulness of chaos until you've experienced the turmoil of aloneness."Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Tally - Words: 506 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 2 - Published: 05-08-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6975781
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Authors Note: I live!
I'm so sorry that I've been absent from the fanfiction community for so long.
However, this is a sign of my return and the first in many updates/publifications. For more info on my writing habits, please look at my profile.
I'm sitting wrapped in the spare blankets from the hotel closet, on the bed nearest to the window.
The T.V. is on, but it's muted and I'm not watching.
It's a strange thing, this silence.
You don't really understand the peacefulness of chaos until you've experienced the turmoil of aloneness. Emotions clash- fear, worry, anger- and turn your soul into a conflicting battlefield.
Which will win? I ask myself. Will you give into fear? Anger? Will you surrender?
It would be so easy, to surrender this inner war, to get up, and call.
A small hammer tapping my memory. The feeling of love. The feeling of warmth. My father is there, caring.
Why isn't he here now?
He told me not to let them in. Not to answer the door, because someone dangerous could be lurking out there.
Silly father. The only thing dangerous is in here.
Do you know where hell is?
Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Ta-ta-tap.
Inside my head.
Tap-tap-tap. Ta-tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-ta-ta-tap. Tap-tap-ta-ta-
That's the first time that I've spoken today. Yesterday, too. Maybe even the day before that. I have a reason- nobody to talk to. First sign of madness? Talking to yourself.
Speaking lights a fire. I'm a puppet, coming back to life. The golden warmth of living spreads to my strange heaviness that coiled in my joints slowly slinks away, ready to snatch up someone else.
The blankets seem to pull me down, down into the bed, choking me, suffocating me. I struggle to the surface, pushing them off.
When I break through, the light shines.
I hadn't noticed that the window curtains were open. Peeking outside, I see people walking by.
Couples holding hands and chattering soft words of young infatuation, small children chasing each other around the soft sunbeams. I feel miles away, a lone princess locked in a tower, doomed to watching the happiness of others. Guarded by the dragon of obligations and promises that will never be kept.
If the boundaries are a lie, why can't I just break free?
It's easy, see, one foot in front of the other, yes, just like that, and a hand extends to pick up the hotel phone. Dial the area code- 467- and the number- 342- 9750- and wait as it rings.
Ring- ring- Ring- ring. Ring- ri-
"Poppy? Hey, it's me, Tally."
Extremely short, yes, I know. I wrote this for school, actually. I really just needed to get something up.