You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what’s in the room.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/01/09/daily-prompt-fear/#like-12865
I am locked in a room with my biggest fear of all. It is dark. As I use my fingers for my feet I feel my way. I can feel cracks and rough edges. I can distinguish even lines going back and forth. I believe they are cement blocks. Each feels the same as the prior. Cold and no heart, useless to me, but providing its job of keeping me inside the four walls.
I can feel rough edges of cardboard, but it feels thicker. I try to tear at it and shred it away from what ever it is hiding. The fibers are too strong, as I feel the piercing of my fragile skin raking across the edges. The heat tells me that my own fresh blood is seeping out of my flesh that holds my soul and entire being together.
As I feel farther I feel cold metal. I run my fingers over the arches and feel smooth cold tubing. With a grit sheath going across from edge to edge, I discover that it is a strong bench. I sit down softly making sure that I have not over estimated its weight. I can feel pricks of metal scorning my thin pants that I have on. No matter what position I place my body, I am freshly pierced once again.
I stand up and walk the fourth wall and it has wrought iron post. I reach as high as my arms will stretch and realize with no doubt that this is iron bars, made to keep me in. Controlled by another human’s touch of the keys being held on the outside of my prison.
The floor is cement as I shuffle my feet along the darkness. There is no heart in its make-up. It shows no compassion for wanting me to be let out. There is no escape. There is no toilet. There is no table or food.
Will I be allowed to die here? Will I starve to death, or hang myself from the fear that is greater than reality. I am locked in this room. The room being my mind that is consumed by my greatest fear, darkness. The mind playing shuffling games, helping me to believe that what I have here is nothing. No way to escape, but yet if I slow down, take a deep breath and allow the mind to think instead of wander, I could turn the handle attached to the bars and walk out the door to freedom.
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Extemely well written, Terry, the way the mind plays tricks on you in the dark, how it feels like a prison.
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thank you so much Sara for this great comment!!!!! thank u
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Amazing writing, well done xXx
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thank you Moose!!! It was a bit off the wall but could be very true
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Very well written, I must say. I personally can’t stand the dark, mainly because of things I THINK I see in it.
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me too and i can see all sorts of things, lol
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I like the descriptions and the prompt. My fear would be tornadoes at night so being locked in a room knowing one is out there is enough to scare me.
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when i was at church camp at about the age of nine or ten a tornado went through our town and completely moved the girls dorm into tiny specks. to this day if the winds pick up out of the ordinary, i sort of freak out……..know how you feel about that one! thank you for the compliment my friend
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Wow – this is fantastic!
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thanks so much my friend!!!!! so glad you liked it. it was a little out there……….lol
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Well written, Terry …. I think this with being afraid of the dark comes from our childhood – personal I like the dark …. but I hate dark days. Have been in dark places quite a few time during the last years … but I have always seen a light in it and gone in it’s direction.
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i have always been afraid of the dark. my real mother kidnapped my brother and i when we were very small and left us in the dark. i m much better today but could not take too many times of being alone in the dark
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What a terrible ordeal you and your brother has gone through – I understand that the dark still frighten you – but darkness can also give some embrace too at time or ???
My grandma always said that at night the lazy ones wake up – and that is so true on me – I’m always busy at midnight.
Last night I re-arranged all my plugs and cables around my PC and I started at midnight – was at it for over one hour. Thought about grandma’s words when I crawled into bed.
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sometimes the night brings me peace. a time when the phones don’t ring, no one knocks at the door. i can see myself doing what you did………
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Well-written, Terry. The mind, for some, is a prison, and for some it is a torture chamber. I remember seeing in a book a photo of an old painting picturing the inside of the artist’s mind. There were a number of rooms each containing some gruesome things. I remember rats in one compartment. I don’t know what I have done with that book – it was on the mind – so cannot find out who the artist was. But it was such a dark portrayal that I think he must have been deranged. My nightmare would be to be in a dark room with spiders, bees or beetles. Even in a lighted room I would go nuts with any of those things.
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oh Diane, I don’t do bugs of any kind. If they have more legs than me, I am on a chair or out the door………
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I’m out the door with you – maybe even ahead of you, and maybe through the door if I couldn’t get it open fast enough. 🙂 I remember as a child, when my father would take us for a Sunday drive, if a bee got in the car I’d be out the car door before my dad could get the car to a complete stop.
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One time a bee got in my car and I was driving. I almost hit another car I was freaking out so bad that it was going to sting me. When I was about 13, my parents and I lived in a woods. I went out the door one summer day and seven wasps stung me all at once. ever since I get a little crazy when i see anything that can sting
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The strange thing is that I have only been stung twice, once in the foot and it wasn’t a bad sting, and the other time on my knee by this tiny, tiny bee that stung me several times. So I don’t really know why I’m so scared of them.
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because you know they do sting. lol, a sting is a sting I say, those tiny sweat bee stings hurt too. talk to you soon Diane. I am off of here to warm my feet. hugs
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