Samantha's Story

in #samanthasstory5 years ago

Somehow cold and dark are the glaring fluorescent lights of HER office.

“Come now Sharron, you must tell me, you must break through.”

Somehow aflame and thunderous was HER whisper to me.

“I will try I…am just…..gather…..gathering it.”

Green and brown, plants and animals, imagination and possibility lived in those woods.
While chasing wonder around the grand old man pine, IT came for me.
Here, how could it be here, I have been here on many adventures with and near the grand old man pine.
Thinking I was perhaps somewhere else I quickly turn about.
There is the old man; there are the briars and their rabbits.
But when I turn back IT is there, IT should not BE.

As I turn to leave IT slides into the center of my vision, growing.
I turn, shake my head, flit my eyes here and there, but now I can see nothing but IT.
Dizzy, shaken, stomach churning I fall to one knee look down and close my eyes to block IT out.
But my eyes can’t shut it out it is now clawing me behind my eyes.
The ringing in my ears becomes shrieking then roaring.

When the silence came, I was too afraid to look.
I realized I was soaking wet.
Looking at my hands they were all pruned, and wrinkled, like a raisin.
I was on a large pavestone; it was covered with markings I think they are ruins of some kind.
In the distance there was a castle of brick with shinning metal peaks.
It beckoned, I approached.

As I neared, I realized that something was touching me on the back pushing me.
It was black and writhing around my hips and legs.
As I looked for their source, I found them coming out of the castle.
The castle crumbled, or maybe melted, both I think, yes both.
I stared dumbfounded as the rubble evaporated and before me was a shack.
It is similar to our outhouse, it was small and wooden, a warren or rusty protruding nails.
The blackness came from it I did not want to go.

I could not bear to look at it anymore, so I cast my gaze about.
I proceeded down a stately boulevard with parks and statues on either side.
There were dashing figures, solemn figures, but mostly there were machines.
Small and complex, or large and simple they fascinated me.
I tried to think what they were used for, or by who.
But the shack would not be denied, it loomed more and more in the corner of my eye.
I looked at IT, I couldn’t bear IT, and I looked at the machines again.
They were moving, grinding, squealing, and rusting into decay before my very eyes.

In I was forced, I was frightened I closed my eyes, lowered my head.
They were opened, it was lifted.
The blackness in the cavernous room was oppressive; dust was making rainbows in the light.
The light was shinning on the box.
It was wooded and banded in pitted and rusted iron.
It was locked.

There was a scratching and shuffling and kicking from inside.
I couldn’t look inside I didn’t want to I don’t want to.
But I was forced, the lock was sprung.
I looked in and saw…..
I was inside now and bound and gagged the lid is coming down.

HER friendly presence looming, inviting.

“Yes, and then Sharron”

She doesn’t notice the black mist undulating around HER, or perhaps she is showing it to me.

“I don’t know… I pass out…..or I am taken…. yes, I think I’m taken”

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