Moments of Wonder and Ponder

A futile apology A short narrative.   Slowly, carefully…I entered the room. My heart pounded; emotions escalated; limbs trembled; what was I going to expect? The room was decorated with gaudy and bold shades of red wallpaper that maliciously smirked at me in revenge whenever I raised my head or got lost in a cloud of delusional thoughts. I hesitated to glance at the grandfather clock, which ticked in ponderous reminder. It emitted a slow and paced, monotonous sound that echoed and rebounded back onto the hollow walls - hollow and empty, lost out of life. The atmosphere — musty and cold- wrapped me in a suffocating, heavy, inescapable trap; it enveloped me, it made me feel heavy — my chest felt uneasy. The hefty and bulky teak furniture dominantly sat in place; heavy cotton curtains cascaded down onto the floor like a waterfall, blocking every inch of sunlight that hoped to enter the room through the window. In the corner of the room, there was a photograph stuck onto the wall. A sm...

nathan-wright-igpwuxZofgo-unsplash.jpg The room was pitch—black. Towering shadows danced frantically on the cracked bathroom door. The low ceiling was covered with their skeletal fingers that awaited to grasp Kayla and tear her apart. They threatened her. They frightened her and tormented her pitiful soul. Turning five was not something to be proud of, after all. It meant you were too big to sleep beside Mommy and that you were responsible for deterring spirits who lurk and linger around you at midnight. Since last week’s memorable birthday party, Kayla never felt safe when the clock struck nine at night. “On the bed, Kay!” the frightful command goes, followed by echoes of ghastly phantoms who seek to torture the shivering timid child. Kayla hid under her quilt and pretended to feel Mommy’s comforting warmth. She imagined Mommy’s tender touch and longed for an escape from the ruthless situation. Despite her attempt to battle her fears, they pierced their blade-like fingers through her ...

 My nightmare landscape :   It was almost difficult to see through the murky, dull overcast. My eyes flickered. I tried to concentrate - my body didn't feel balanced and my brain was foggy. The ground was vast, full of withered greyish leaves, pilled up, thick brawny roots creeped through, they looked as if they had hands that would appear to reach me out - with those long rooty fingers, and grab me through. I stumbled. Tried to clench one of the old, sturdy barks.  A path had been made through, as long as my eyes could foresee - I tried to follow it faithfully. A bitter, cold breeze swirled through the landscape, uplifting every leaf below -  strands of the hairs on my skin straightened. Onto the right of the path a tire swing was tied to one of the trees - it was swinging, in obscure patterns. Blocking the pathway - a humungous, withered, ancient brown tree was leaning over, about to collapse in a jiff. I crouched my back and crept under as the leaves tickled ...