Quick-Went Flightless Bird : January 2016

Author’s Note: First off, let me say this is a bit longer than I intended it to be (Sorry Mrs. Fraser. I sorta blew 500 words out of the water didn’t I?). I got very excited about this story and I couldn’t stop writing.

This story is inspired by the black and white striped box that was passed around in class. It reminded me of mimes, the Joker, Tim Burton’s movies, Alice in Wonderland and a lot of other things I love. This idea started with the character I created (I don’t want to give spoilers, you’ll know him when he is introduced) and I built the story and adventure the main character goes through off of that other character.

Music has always been a huge part of my creative process. Here is a playlist of instrumental songs I listened to while writing this short story: Stripes Playlist. If you like to listen to music while you read, I strongly suggest this playlist.

Thank you for reading “Stripes”. I hope you enjoy it! ~

I have always been prone to making reckless decisions. Well, maybe that’s the wrong way to put it. Usually when people hear the word “reckless” they expect extravagant things, like sneaking out at night to meet a boyfriend or wrecking your parents brand new Volvo or something of that sort. I am not that type of reckless. Confused? Here let me explain:

I have this horrible habit of filling my mind with the most terrible things right before I sleep. Around 10 o’clock every school night, I set a glass of chocolate milk on my night stand, settle into my bed, and place my Mac in my lap. I will click around on the internet for a bit, checking Facebook, Tumbling around on Tumblr, you know, the works. Anyway, eventually I end up on YouTube. One thing leads to another… Before you know it, a Markiplier play-through of Five Nights at Freddy’s leads to creepy game theory videos and so on. By midnight, I’m sitting in bed with the lights off, playing the horror games myself. Eventually I get scared enough that I shut my Mac book and throw the covers over my head. Most nights I lay very still until I can sleep, and some nights I can’t sleep at all.

Because of my reckless thrill filled nights, I often sleep through my alarm clock and find my mother shaking me awake in the morning. I often have to scramble to get ready for school. My mother gets a bit…peeved with my habits. Every now and then she will confront me, asking me so many questions that I cannot answer. I can’t explain this certain habit her, or to anyone really… because I do not really understand it myself.

It is strange really. Because of my recklessness, I have gotten used to falling asleep while being afraid. It is sort of a thrill, lying in bed with eyes clasped tightly shut, scared to open them for the fear of spotting something lurking in the dark. Laying very still, so whatever is in the room will not detect my presence and rip me fast from the sheets and devour me, like a toddler handles a stuffed doll. It is almost as if the utter and complete terror I put myself through every night, has awakened a different and livelier part of my imagination. Like….that mindset we all had as six-year-olds, where almost anything (whether it be terrifying or not) is possible, has been awakened inside of me again. It is…an addicting state of mind.

I guess I could say that sleeping has been an addiction for me sense I started these horror game habits. My dreams, are more lucid then I ever remember them being, even when I was a very young child. They are large, full of depth and color, and incredibly adventurous. They make real life seem pretty gray and dull actually. Now, one would think that I suffer from a lot of nightmares, but that is simply not true. My dreams are usually delightful now a days. Sure, there is the occasional creepiness that pops up every now and then, but isn’t that just how dreams are? They are very unexplainable and mysterious in the most…satisfying way.

Tonight I lay still as a stone in my bed, as I always do. Though my eyes have been tightly shut, I remember the time was almost 2:00AM when I snapped my Mac shut, so assume it is somewhere around 3:00AM now. A fog of heaviness is starting to swallow my body. I find my mind is starting to slowly drift from the distraction of the terrors of the night, and into something that seems a bit more promising. I feel myself begin to relax…

The mystical magic of Mr. Sandman’s work gets stolen away from me before I even fully receive it. A slight creeeeek of my closet doors causes me to jerk violently. I sit up in bed, the illusion of tranquility had been shattered when I jumped at the sound. A feeling of dread takes hold of my form and rolls down my spine, making every little fuzzy hair stand on end. I open my eyes and turn my head toward my closet….What I see is unexplainable.

An eerie purple glow emits from the crack between the doors, and it expands out into my room. Spirally shadows are thrown all around the walls and a few of my nick-knacks and things seem to almost be lit up, as if the glow is giving off some sort of black light effect. The feeling of dread slowly descends from my form. I take comfort in the spiral shadows; they seem playful…harmless. I find my bare feet coming in contact with the shaggy carpet as I begin to walk the perimeter of my bedroom slowly. My hand grazes along the newly patterned wall, as I begin to feel more relaxed then I have felt in a very long time.

My hand crosses over the doorframe of my closet, and there is absolutely no hesitation. I reach for the crack in the doors, to open them wider. I find myself eager to fill the whole space with the deep violet glow. Yet, as soon as I touch the door and before I can even pull, something ghosts over my foot. Calmly I look down, and spy a string of white thread shining in the glow. On closer examination, I realize that the white piece is intertwined with a black piece of thread that gleams ever so slightly along with it. The thread slides against the carpet slowly, as it begins to disappear into the crack between the closet doors.

Before I even realize, I am on all fours, grasping for this piece of thread. I catch it with two fingers right before it can manage to slip away. It fights against my hold, as if some other entity on the other side is still attempting to slowly tug it along. As soon as I have grasped it, it slips from my hands. In a panicked state I rip the doors open, only to be blinded by a never ending, blaring, white light.

It begins to consume me. I close my eyes.

If I wasn’t on the ground already, I am sure I would have been by now, the light makes my whole body weak. I can still see it through my eyelids, and yet… I am not afraid. Only slightly panicked. The intertwined thread could have gone far out of my reach by now, and be lost for good.

Eventually the light starts to subside. I rub my eyes before slowly opening them. The original purple glow has not returned. Instead I find myself in a dimly lit hallway that seems to stretch on for eternity. The walls are covered in an obnoxious paper; pinstripes of white and black reaching from the ceiling to the shaggy carpeted floor. Though the vague light is guiding my eye down the eternal pathway, I cannot pinpoint where the source of it is coming from. As I rise to my feet I realize that there are no shadows on either sides of the wall. In fact, neither I myself possess one.

Then there is a shimmer of movement down the hallway. A wide grin spreads across my face as I spy the thread, scuttling along the carpet. I spring into action and start running after it. The plush carpet feels like clouds underneath my feet. The stripes around me begin to blend together into a mild grey as my pace quickens.

I run along the hallway for what seems hours. Though I run swiftly, I only slowly gain on the thread. Eventually it is only a few feet away, just barely out of my grasp. I find myself becoming slightly frustrated, pondering on whether or not I should take a chance and just dive for it. If I miss, the thread will keep scuttling away at high speeds. It might take me another eternity to catch it again. Is that a risk I am willing to take?

Of course…I have always been prone to reckless decisions.

The carpet does not seem as plush as before while my torso comes in contact with it. I land with an “oomph!” My arms scramble quickly to grab at the thread, but alas… I am too late and it continues to scurry down the never-ending hallway. An eerie feeling rises up my spine, as I watch it scoot out of sight. Now what….?

I shakily climb onto my feet and look around me. The hallway stretches into oblivion both ways. I being to forget which way is which. No longer am I sure how to turn around and go back, nor am I sure how to continue onward. I panic. Where to go now? I begin hitting the striped walls…with no luck. I try to rip down the obnoxious paper…only to fail. Now I am angry and confused, and yet….not frightened.

Out of impulse, I kick the wall as hard as I can. I soon as I do, the walls around me begin to shake. The ground surrounding me crumbles and slowly begins to fall away. I close my eyes and cover my head as the walls start to tip and lean in my direction.

“Nowhere left to run.”

The voice is a whisper. It encourages me to open my eyes and peak out into the space around me. I am in an empty white room, or at least I assume it is completely empty. I turn on my heel, confirming my accusation. I find myself in the middle of what seems to be a square space. The white walls, floor and ceiling are very bright, though like the hallway, possess a lack of shadows and light source.

I am obviously alone in the room, making the whisper unexplainable. A feeling crawls along my body. Expecting fear I am instead met with a feeling of calm as I realize the whisper could only have been my own thoughts made audible.

Upon that, the room fills with a sound of faint laughter. Then silence.

Maybe I am wrong, I begin to question myself, though what else could it be?

Again the laughter appears, puzzling me as it fades away once more.

Maybe I am going crazy? A panic arises in me to the teeth and yet…

“And yet you aren’t frightened, are you?” the question is followed by the familiar laughter. I spin around, my eyes roaming the room, searching for the possessor of this voice. The ceiling begins to rumble a bit, soon the whole room follows suit. I fall back onto my bottom, as the ceiling lifts away.

A large smiling face gazes down at me. Skin made of shadows. Teeth and lips glowing a pure white as he cackles. Long fingers clad in white leathery fabric reach into the room, grabbing me around the torso. Much like a doll, I am lifted from the box by the shadowy man. My eyes fall over him. The tiny black and white pinstripes of his suit jacket, pants and fedora hat strike me softly. His suit jacket particularly, as there are little pockets all over it. One of the pockets has something hanging out of it. What is that, a wire perhaps?

As he bends to set me on the ground, I become distracted by the shimmy of the pinstripes as his clothing wrinkles and folds with his movement. When my feet touch the cold ground I feel as if I am in a trance. I watch the man, intrigued. He slowly stands straight again. The hand in which he was grasping me falls to his side, while his other hand – his right hand – holds an old cardboard like box. The box is baseball sized, with matching black and white pinstripes. The white on the box is not as bright and clean as the white of the dark man’s suit or smile however. The box, slightly ripped and worn, displays yellowed white stripes and faded black, almost grey, stripes.

The man drops the box onto the floor. I stumble a little, for it shakes the ground and is far larger than myself. The open side of the box lands before me, revealing the clean and bright white inside walls.

I look up at the large man, only to be greeted with the sole of his blinding white loafer. It is as if he is trying to squish me! I react on impulse, closing my eyes and curling into a defenseless ball. I wait for the pressure….but none comes. After a bit I hear him laugh.

Slowly I open my eyes and unwind from my panicked curl. I find that I am no longer as tiny as a trinket. I have grown to normal size, or at least to the same scale as the man. He is sitting now, on a black stool, white mouth in a wide grin, laughing as usual. I immediately rise from my kneeling position at his feet, as anger steams from my scalp.

“What is the meaning of this? Why do you laugh?” I point a pale finger at him.

He continues to cackle as he speaks, “Why do you stand and point fingers?”

I cross my arms, “Excuse me?”

“Why are you accusing me of all of this?” he repeats, his laughter begins to die off.

“This is obviously all your doing!”

He stares at me with an intrigued look in his pure black eyes, “You’re avoiding the question, dear. Tisk tisk.” He sighs and bends over to pick up the box, the lid now again in its proper place.

“I am not avoiding anything. The thread. You wanted me to follow! And then, you put me in that box!” I point at the little cardboard vessel in his hand. “Now, I will ask you again, what is the meaning of this?”

“What makes you think it was me on the other end of that thread?” he twirls the box around between his fingers.

I smile to myself, “There is a little bit sticking out of your breast pocket”. I point to the gleaming white piece of thread.

“Ah, so there is.” He pulls it out slowly. “Except this is all I have….hmm.” his tone is taunting, as he stretches it across his hands, revealing that it is only about three feet long.

“Let me see that!” I grab the piece of white thread from his hands holding it in my own. “Where is the rest of this?”

“That is all I have in my possession,” he answers with a soft cackle.

“That can’t be true!” I look up at him in disbelief. “I know what I saw.”

As quick as those words leave my lips I feel a slight tickle in the palm of my hand. I shift my gaze, only to gasp and drop the thread.

It had been wriggling in my hands.

“Of course you do, dear,” the shadow man erupts with laughter. I ignore him and watch as the thread shimmies along the ground, much like a worm.

Panic begins to rise in my chest and crawl slowly up my throat. Panic but…

“Not fear, and yet?” the shadow man cackles so hard he almost stumbles off the stool.

I dismiss his comment and turn my attention back to the wiggling thread, “How is it doing that?”

Before the cackling clown could answer me, another piece of thread slithers over my foot, this one black. Then I spy another over by the laughing man’s stool, this one white and longer in length. Then another….then another. Soon they are everywhere. Long, small, short and tall black and white pieces of wriggling little thread everywhere.

The panic begins to set in the pit of my stomach and expand into something more.

“Fear perhaps?”

I look at the man, his laughter has disappeared along with his stool. Now he is standing only a few feet away from me, in his impossible height, he towers over me.

I shake my head stubbornly, I will not admit fear. Not here…. Not in a place that seems so familiar.

“Hmm, very well then,” He takes a step closer to me, grin wider than ever before. “You must at least have a few questions for me.”

I am forced to rip my eyes away from him as I feel the tickle of thread on my legs. Some of the black ones have started to shimmy up my ankles. I try to kick them off with no luck what-so-ever. The white ones begin to wiggle into formations. Soon I realize they are spelling out words. The same word actually, over and over and over again….

“Reckless.” I read in a faint whisper, feeling the panic expand and branch even further through my body.

“Ah yes, the sweet and simple truth,” comes a cackle.

I glare into the dark endless eyes of the laughing menace, “Tell me what is happening to me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

The threads had wrapped themselves around my shins and are now wriggling past my knees. I glance down, noticing that the white threads are now spelling out “Nightmare”.

I have to swallow a lump in my throat.

“It seems that you don’t have a lot of time left.”

I cannot say anything in response for fear of letting the lump in my throat escape. I only scowl.

“Hmm yes well….” The shadowy man’s white clad fingers click against his chin as he ponders. He continues to twist the box in his other hand. He watches it slips around in his fingers. He glances at the progress of the threads as they begin to consume my torso. His eyes take in my whole form in a hungry sort of way.

“What?” Fear escapes the lump in my throat through the tone of my voice. The shadowy clown takes notice and smirks, his smile glimmering.

He does not answer, he only chuckles to himself and holds the box out in front of me. I stare at it in the utmost confusion.

"Well go on now, take it!" He shakes the little vessel before my face. "Quickly, dear! Before they consume your arms." The shadowy man laughs and gestures to the threads, which are on their way up my chest.

I hesitate, but soon it dawns on me that I am running out of options. I swiftly snatch the box from the clown's glove. I hear him chuckle as while I rip the lid from the vessel. It hits the ground, bouncing off of the thread creatures. I peer inside the box, and feel myself frowning.

Inside lay two wooden spools. Both bare. Threadless.

The dark clown is obviously amused by my furrowed brow. I look up at him in disbelief, What could this possibly mean?

He only continues to laugh as he bends at his knees to pick the box lid from the thread monsters. As soon as his tall form in leaning over me once more, I find that the thread creatures have found their way up to my neck and are starting to weave their way around my arms. I begin to shake, afraid of the unknown.

The shadow man tips his hat and hums, "Well now, it seems the time has come for me to bid you goodbye." He adjusts his jacket flaps, and begins to turn on his heal. In a moment of desperation I start to call out to him, but my voice is stolen away as the black threads have found their way to my mouth and are lacing themselves over it. Still, a small muffled sound escapes my lips.

He turns back to me, black eyebrows raised. Then, as if the thought has just struck him, he wacks himself on the head. "Of course!" he laughs, "How silly of me. I've neglected to explain!" He smiles at me, a friendly twinkle in his shadowy eyes. Snickering he taps a white clad finger against the box.

"You must be wondering about this...well now, it is very simple really." He traces the rim of the box lazily. "I'm sure you could figure it out yourself with a little time and effort." An expectant look is thrown my way.

I only glare in return, my lips have been laced shut. The thread has gone on to tickle my cheekbones.

"Oh yes, that's right! You don't have a little time." As he laughs, I only sigh, losing the energy to glare, as if the threads are sucking the life from me.

"Alright I will tell you! Listen closely because this is very important!" He leans close to me, pale lips in a tight smirk. The threads begin to laces over my eyes, I am almost blind when the whisper of the shadow man finally falls on my ears.

"Some things are better left inside the box."

With that, he clasps the lid onto the box. I catch one last gleam of his laughing smile as my world goes black. Gently, all sounds start fading away....

All is silent.

I am floating.

And suddenly, a blaring.

I jolt at the sound of an alarm clock. I sit up in bed. My sweaty arm reaches out to shut it off. I stare at the red numbers in awe. The glow they emit seems so dull and industrial.

6:00AM.

I sigh and pull the covers back, ready to start my day, as much as I may not want to.

Though... the dullness of my morning routine is interrupted as something flies swiftly out of my sheets and thumps to the ground. I lean forward, expecting a stuffed animal, only to stop...and take a steep breath.

There on the ground is a little, worn and ripped, black and white striped box.

Two small, wooden, bare spools roll out and patter to a stop onto the carpet.

A familiar panicked feeling blooms inside of me...

Panicked.....

....and yet.

Authors Note (Part 2): The striped box has a meaning behind it. Does anyone want to guess what that meaning is?

Quick-Went Flightless Bird

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Colored Inspired Poems IV: Narrative

Colored Inspired Poems III: Freeverse

Colored Inspired Poems II: Heart of Gold

Colored Inspired Poems I: Haikus

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Stripes

Monday, January 18, 2016

I Am