I don’t know how long I’ve been lying on the floor. Wasn’t it only a moment ago that an ice pick sliced through my skull? My muscles are stiff and my cheek is slick with sweat where it meets with the floor. I can’t move. There is nowhere to go, no chance for escape. Any attempt worsens a pain that can only become more unbearable. The pills meant to make it stop lay scattered, just out of reach. The pain knows this, so I close my eyes and wait.
The ants start to crawl under my skin. Their tiny legs are armed with lightening rods and stab relentlessly wherever blood flows. The worst part is its only just begun. The ice pick jabs from inside my head; its sharp point rips at my mind with persistent fervor. The pounding of my pulse brings new waves of blinding agony.
He said I could call . . .
My body recoils in a violent fit. One hand grabs onto my head, while the other tries to quell the ants that refuse to stand still. My knees snap to my chest as a vicious cramp seizes every muscle. I wait for the blackness to come. A dark void where I am lost and cannot feel. Hallucinations of haunting images flicker and phantasms of pain darken my view. I want to scream, but a clenched throat chokes my voice.
Help . . . I need help.
My limbs won’t loosen and my thoughts shatter. I lock myself away in a sunless tunnel. It’s the only way to hide and protect what’s mine. There’s a chance I’ll never find my way back, but where else can I go? I long to hear footsteps that will find me and save me from this hell.
But they will not come. He left weeks ago, tired of what I could not fix.
My fingers cling to knotted strands of hair. Another wave strikes, bringing with it a thousand baseball bats that beat the life right out of me. Shadows that don’t exist move in the corner of my eye. Whispers that aren’t really spoken sound in my ear.
Where is he? Why isn’t he coming?
There are no footsteps. The blackness offers no release.
Something warm drips down my chin. Red falls to the floor in tiny drips. Not even my lips are immune to the havoc that reigns – my teeth cut right through. He always knew what to do. When I couldn’t take care of myself, he was always there. But, not now. I can’t remember why. It’s lost to the pounding that won’t stop.
Didn’t he say to call him whenever I needed?
I need him. I need help.
But that was before . . . he left. A sledgehammer slams into my temple. A white flash wipes out my vision. The only sense I have left cries from the torture. Please let me go. The hardwood floor, so unforgiving, pushes into my joints and offers no comfort. Yet, I cannot leave. Is this my punishment? If he were here, I would apologize. And beg for forgiveness.
Help . . .
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Special Note: Due to some changes made by WordPress in the comment section, be sure to uncheck the box that says, “Notify me of follow-up comments via email,” if you do not wish to receive e-mails for every new comment on this post. At the moment, the box is checked as a default, (and I can’t fix it).
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c.b. 2012
Wow. That is powerful. Dark, yes, but great writing. Wow.
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Thanks. 🙂 It’s definitely not my usual style, but one afternoon it just came out.
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Terrifying imagery, yes, very powerful.
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Thanks. 🙂 I love to play with imagery, but I never let it go this dark. It was odd to explore something so torturous, yet interesting to see what I could do with it.
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Very arresting and powerful writing..
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Thank you. 🙂 Its not a genre I’ll likely wander into again, but it was a learning experience to try something a little different.
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Curious where that came from. No, not your usual style but I still hear your voice and recognize the growth in your writing.
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I’m debating whether or not to share the inspiration. Part of me likes the mystery, while the other wants to ensure everyone I’m not crazy. 😉
I’m glad to hear my voice is still coming through, despite such a departure from my usual realm. This was an experiment and I learned a lot from trying something new. 🙂
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Great writing, C.B. Thanks for sharing. A different perspective, a break from the norm. Good.
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Thanks. 🙂 I suppose one can’t write of sunshine and flowers all the time. This was an interesting place to visit, but I don’t know if I’ll come back all that often.
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I might be a bit worried about you if you did!
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love to see you stretch your writing muscles this way. Wow. Very powerful. And frighteningly real to many.
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It was definitely an exercise outside my comfort zone. 🙂
My goal was to make it as realistic as possible, so its good to hear that it’s a bit frightening in some respects.
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Clinical depression? Schizophrenia? Not you, the character. Sorry, I’m studying psychology so I view everything from that potential lense. It was very good, the wording making it tortuously believable. But seriously, where is he??? 😛
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You’ll have to vote on today’s post to get the answers to your questions! 😉
https://cbwentworth.wordpress.com/2012/05/12/poll-to-know-or-not-to-know/
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I instantly thought of Leon Trotsky.
M
PS. I like it that they have automatically checked the notify box. It saves me from having to remember.
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Interesting. 🙂
p.s. For some the change is brilliant, but for others it’s a nightmare. It seems the right thing to do to let people know of the change. 🙂
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Wow, brilliant honey 🙂
Xx
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Thanks. 🙂 It’s not my usual groove, but sometimes its good to break out and try something different.
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Very nice, I wasn’t exactly used to it coming from you, but I like this too. Dark, yes, and I wonder what really happened. The cynic in me relates this a little to Poe’s Tell-tale Heart – I kind of feel that it isn’t just about an ice-pick. I almost feel like he left her there… where is he?!
I might have misinterpreted…please excuse me…
Anyway great work! Thanks for sharing!
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The unusual (for me) tone of this piece is why I put it up for a vote. It is different and something I can’t believe I wrote. Either way, it was an interesting experiment to flex my writing muscle. 🙂
As for your question of what really happened – you’ll have to vote on today’s post for a chance at an explanation.
https://cbwentworth.wordpress.com/2012/05/12/poll-to-know-or-not-to-know/
However, I will say the ice pick is meant to be more of an adjective than a physical object.
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Very descriptive and powerful. I think you explored this fiercer arena fearlessly. Now you know you can go there, which gives you a whole other aspect of topic/writing/feeling you can draw on. and as usual with your short fiction, you left me wanting to know more.
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It was a piece I never intended to share, but as I went through my old files it stood out and I changed my mind. It was surprisingly easy to write, despite having to dig so deeply into something so bleak in nature. This makes me wonder where else I can go without losing my voice.
If you want to know more, (in terms of inspiration for the story) be sure to vote in today’s poll!
https://cbwentworth.wordpress.com/2012/05/12/poll-to-know-or-not-to-know/
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Like all the others here, I, too, thought it was very powerful …and dark. Frightening; yes …because as I was reading, I made my own, private associations..
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It’s interesting to hear I’ve struck a personal nerve for some. At least I know I’ve done something realistic – that’s a wonderful compliment for a writer to receive. 🙂
The tone is surprising from me, but I’m thankful my readers were willing to come along for a darker trip into fiction.
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Oh, I just let my imagination take me for a ride, realizing that the ‘ice pick’ was merely an adjective, so to speak…
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Dark, yes. Not an easy read. Are you describing a migraine attack? I suffered with those in my teens and twenties and they are awful. Your descriptions of vision problems (shadows and white flash) sound familiar, and the ice pick is a good description of the pain. The mention of pills is what makes me think that this is a medical condition. But for whom is she calling? A doctor? No, a doc wouldn’t give up on a patient. I guess there’s the mystery.
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Hmmm . . . we’ll have to see how today’s poll goes before I divulge anything. 🙂
For a long time I didn’t know who “he” was in the story, but after the second draft I figured it out. It’s not what anyone thinks, (so far, anyway!).
Thanks so much for reading.
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I just voted for full disclosure. 🙂 But wanted to add my guess, or how I interpreted the story.(Incredibly well written, by the way.) It sounded like severe emotional pain after a major heartbreak. Psychosomatic pain – real pain caused by severe emotional distress. And the feeling of being trapped inside those overpowering emotions. No matter what you do, you can’t change the truth of what has happened and it’s unbearable.
Can’t wait to hear the inspiration and/or malady behind the story.
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May the “full disclosures” win so you can get your answer. 🙂
There are a lot of layers to this story, some of which sit right on the surface and others that go much deeper. It’s a piece that surprised me at every turn during the writing process.
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Very good! A writer has to stretch and go out of the comfort zone to grow. Was this a flash fiction exercise? Great title “Solitary Confinement” !
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It wasn’t part of any exercise other than my muse asking me to take a risk. 🙂 I had no idea what it was going to be until it was done.
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Wow! This is incredibly written! And I love the mystery that enshrouds the exact nature of what is happening. : )
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Thanks so much for reading. I’m glad you liked the mystery. No matter the genre, I love to write with a degree ambiguity. 🙂
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This is great! You can still hear your voice – clearly – but the darkness creates something new. Powerful.
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Thanks. 🙂 It was cathartic to write in some ways, but also a little scary to explore something so far out of my realm.
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Sounds like one heck of a migraine! I think it’s interesting to explore the darker side of our writing. I have done the same on very few occasions and I’m still not sure where it all comes from. Great job on this one, C. B. I’ll have to check out the poll to see if more is revealed… 🙂
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Thanks so much for reading. 🙂
Please do vote! This weekend I’ll be sitting down to write the post based on the results.
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very powerful… I read the explanation before the story (probably should have done it the other way around but I’m just catching up on blogs!). I think it helps, I would have understood the migraine, I think (I have suffered from them on and off for years but they are not as severe as the ones you describe). An overwhelming impression of pain… and helplessness. Quite bleak, I suppose… I would like to know what happens to her – is she still suffering? Is ‘he’ just a hallucination, a figment of her imagination or based on reality (hers, I mean?)
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I left her hanging mainly because that’s how it feels in the midst of one – it feels like it will never end. I didn’t continue her story for that very reason.
From my perspective, “he” is a hallucination, but it really is left to reader interpretation. I wrote it to make him seem real because he is to her as she struggles.
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