Iisme
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This is a little short story I wrote in high school that I found again recently in my old notebooks.
"Let me go!" She screamed into black, "I want out of this!" She had no idea where she was, how she got there, or what was going on.
"Do you even know where you are?" The stupid male voice came from the middle of nowhere again. It was getting on her last nerve.
"No," she said hunching over, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, annoyed. "I can't see."
"That doesn't mean anything." The voice said sounding like it was right behind her. She whipped around, her eyes searching the darkness.
"Show yourself!" She yelled, "Your game's getting old." The voice chuckled and she felt a cool breeze on the back of her neck, sending chills down her spine. She shivered involuntarily.
"This isn't a game," he said, farther away. "You've been neglecting yourself."
"No I haven't," She said defensively. "I take great care of my self. I'm clean, I exercise, I watch what I eat-"
"That's not what I'm talking about," The voice said like she was stupid. That made her even angrier. She opened her mouth to defend herself again, but something silky slipped crossed it, silencing her. She tried to get the thing off butt it wouldn't budge.
"Now listen before it's too late." The voice said, she felt something lightly touch her shoulder. "All the things you described were taking care of your physical self. You've been neglecting your inner self. How so?" He asked, reading her mind. "Simple. You've been pretending to be something you're not. You're with people who make you think that you need to be somebody you're not, and when you're not with those people you're with your parents pretending to be the perfect daughter, when we're in here screaming that you're not. While you're trying to conform, to pretend that you're someone else to impress everyone else, us on the inside are screaming for you to stop. At first you listened to us somewhat, but now you're ignoring us completely. You're killing us...literally." She shook off whatever was on her shoulder. She didn't want to here this nonsense. She took pride in being herself. She'd admit it took her a while to get her friends' and parents' approval, but she was herself one hundred percent.
"No you're not," the voice said sadly at her being so naive, "And what you don't realize is that we're dying on the inside. Thousands of us are dying each and every day, choking with denial. Your soul is dying with us, that's why you've been so sick lately, and that's why I brought you here- to warn you and beg you to stop before we all die, and you die." The silky something slipped from her mouth. She touched her lips tenderly where the silk had brushed across her skin.
"Who are you?" She asked the voice slowly, afraid of what the answer would be. She looked around into the blackness slowly, desperately trying to make anything out.
"We're your individuality, your spirit, and your free will," he said, sounding like her was right in front of her. She uncertainly reached her hand out. Her fingertips touched what felt like ice.
"Why are you so cold?" She asked softly, a pained tear falling down her cheek. How could this be real?
"I'm dying." She felt a cold hand take hers, "this is what happens when you compress, lock in your true self. We die and your heart and soul become ice and black. Then you're nothing but an empty shell, wandering around with no purpose forever. That's why you need to accept yourself for who you are." The hand squeezed hers. Tears were streaming down her face; she shook her head.
"I can't," She whispered ashamed, "I'm scared." her hand got colder and the grip on it got weaker.
"You must," the voice said softly, growing weaker.
"But nobody liked the old me." She said, then whispered looking down, "I hate her."
"You can still change her to be a better person," the voice said, another colder hand gently lifted her head up by the chin, "You just can't change everything. you keep the good things and change the bad. That's the way it's supposed to be done."
"But my family and friends won't like the old me," she said. The cold hand stroked her cheek soothingly.
"You're family will accept you for who you are, they'll just have to get used to it, and they will. And you'll find better friends, trust me."
"But I don't want to lose my friends," she said softly.
"You won't lose all of them," he said reassuringly, "Some of the closest ones will accept you for who you are." Then the hands suddenly pulled her down to her knees, she lost grip of the hands. She felt around for them. Her fingers came across a body laying down and she pulled them up and held them close. Coldness seeped through her.
"What's happening to you?" She whispered. He coughed.
"My time's running out." He barely whispered. His breathing slowed and heaved.
"Don't die, please don't die," she begged into his frozen hair.
"Accept your true self before your time runs out," he said. A hand brushed across her face leaving goosebumps, "Don't be afraid." It was now or never. She had to accept herself. Her true self. She shut her eyes tight and thought about her old self hard how she wanted her back again. Anything to have her back again and stop the slaughter.
She woke up in her room looking up at the lavender ceiling decorated with different sized circles. She snapped up into a sitting position. Did she do it? Did she save him and herself? She looked at the mirror above the dresser on the wall. She saw herself in a whole new way. Her face was so much brighter, there was so much light in her eyes. She looked happy. Truly happy, not the fake happy she had been faking all those years. There was something behind her. She looked over her shoulder and didn't see anything. She looked in the mirror again and saw him. He smiled at her and mouthed, "Thank you." Then he faded away. She smiled and got off the bed and stretched. She made a face at herself in the mirror and walked out of the room, ready to show the world who she truly was. Me.
"Let me go!" She screamed into black, "I want out of this!" She had no idea where she was, how she got there, or what was going on.
"Do you even know where you are?" The stupid male voice came from the middle of nowhere again. It was getting on her last nerve.
"No," she said hunching over, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, annoyed. "I can't see."
"That doesn't mean anything." The voice said sounding like it was right behind her. She whipped around, her eyes searching the darkness.
"Show yourself!" She yelled, "Your game's getting old." The voice chuckled and she felt a cool breeze on the back of her neck, sending chills down her spine. She shivered involuntarily.
"This isn't a game," he said, farther away. "You've been neglecting yourself."
"No I haven't," She said defensively. "I take great care of my self. I'm clean, I exercise, I watch what I eat-"
"That's not what I'm talking about," The voice said like she was stupid. That made her even angrier. She opened her mouth to defend herself again, but something silky slipped crossed it, silencing her. She tried to get the thing off butt it wouldn't budge.
"Now listen before it's too late." The voice said, she felt something lightly touch her shoulder. "All the things you described were taking care of your physical self. You've been neglecting your inner self. How so?" He asked, reading her mind. "Simple. You've been pretending to be something you're not. You're with people who make you think that you need to be somebody you're not, and when you're not with those people you're with your parents pretending to be the perfect daughter, when we're in here screaming that you're not. While you're trying to conform, to pretend that you're someone else to impress everyone else, us on the inside are screaming for you to stop. At first you listened to us somewhat, but now you're ignoring us completely. You're killing us...literally." She shook off whatever was on her shoulder. She didn't want to here this nonsense. She took pride in being herself. She'd admit it took her a while to get her friends' and parents' approval, but she was herself one hundred percent.
"No you're not," the voice said sadly at her being so naive, "And what you don't realize is that we're dying on the inside. Thousands of us are dying each and every day, choking with denial. Your soul is dying with us, that's why you've been so sick lately, and that's why I brought you here- to warn you and beg you to stop before we all die, and you die." The silky something slipped from her mouth. She touched her lips tenderly where the silk had brushed across her skin.
"Who are you?" She asked the voice slowly, afraid of what the answer would be. She looked around into the blackness slowly, desperately trying to make anything out.
"We're your individuality, your spirit, and your free will," he said, sounding like her was right in front of her. She uncertainly reached her hand out. Her fingertips touched what felt like ice.
"Why are you so cold?" She asked softly, a pained tear falling down her cheek. How could this be real?
"I'm dying." She felt a cold hand take hers, "this is what happens when you compress, lock in your true self. We die and your heart and soul become ice and black. Then you're nothing but an empty shell, wandering around with no purpose forever. That's why you need to accept yourself for who you are." The hand squeezed hers. Tears were streaming down her face; she shook her head.
"I can't," She whispered ashamed, "I'm scared." her hand got colder and the grip on it got weaker.
"You must," the voice said softly, growing weaker.
"But nobody liked the old me." She said, then whispered looking down, "I hate her."
"You can still change her to be a better person," the voice said, another colder hand gently lifted her head up by the chin, "You just can't change everything. you keep the good things and change the bad. That's the way it's supposed to be done."
"But my family and friends won't like the old me," she said. The cold hand stroked her cheek soothingly.
"You're family will accept you for who you are, they'll just have to get used to it, and they will. And you'll find better friends, trust me."
"But I don't want to lose my friends," she said softly.
"You won't lose all of them," he said reassuringly, "Some of the closest ones will accept you for who you are." Then the hands suddenly pulled her down to her knees, she lost grip of the hands. She felt around for them. Her fingers came across a body laying down and she pulled them up and held them close. Coldness seeped through her.
"What's happening to you?" She whispered. He coughed.
"My time's running out." He barely whispered. His breathing slowed and heaved.
"Don't die, please don't die," she begged into his frozen hair.
"Accept your true self before your time runs out," he said. A hand brushed across her face leaving goosebumps, "Don't be afraid." It was now or never. She had to accept herself. Her true self. She shut her eyes tight and thought about her old self hard how she wanted her back again. Anything to have her back again and stop the slaughter.
She woke up in her room looking up at the lavender ceiling decorated with different sized circles. She snapped up into a sitting position. Did she do it? Did she save him and herself? She looked at the mirror above the dresser on the wall. She saw herself in a whole new way. Her face was so much brighter, there was so much light in her eyes. She looked happy. Truly happy, not the fake happy she had been faking all those years. There was something behind her. She looked over her shoulder and didn't see anything. She looked in the mirror again and saw him. He smiled at her and mouthed, "Thank you." Then he faded away. She smiled and got off the bed and stretched. She made a face at herself in the mirror and walked out of the room, ready to show the world who she truly was. Me.
