And IT arrivesA Chapter by Jerald Infant JeyarethinamJust a chapter from my book:)He sat in a white
room which had two doors. One to his right, the other to his left. The room was
filled with emptiness except his presence and a chair, in which he sat. He sat
there with his arms resting on his knees and his hands supporting his chin. His
eyes were pointed towards the ground. He
was waiting patiently for it to arrive. What was that it? It was called just it.
It
had arrived. He
didn't lift his head nor did he utter a word. It
spoke.
"So,
you have made a decision?" It asked. "Yes"
He replied. "You
do realize that if you do go on this mission and do not succeed, you will lose
it all. Don't you?" It asked again.
"Yes"
He replied. “You
do not have the necessity to do this" It said.
There
was a blaze in his eyes. Then
it realized, words lie, eyes don't. “Everything
has a price. If we are to grant you this permission. What is your bargaining
power?” It asked again.
“A
person's heart is his source of power in that place. You will be powerless.
What would you do?” It asked. "I
would survive from the power of the hearts of the people I surround myself
with" He said. “In
that case, have you chosen well?” It asked.
"You
will have this same feeling till you exist in that place. The only way to have
your heart back is to succeed. Remember that” It said. He
stood up and started walking towards the door on his left. He
stood before it and took a deep breath. "So,
what waits me on the other side of the door?" He asked. "A
lot of questions” was the reply from it. He
didn't turn back, but there was a tilt of his head towards the right and he
said "Take
good care of it" And
he entered the door. © 2015 Jerald Infant JeyarethinamAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorJerald Infant JeyarethinamPasir Ris, SingaporeAboutThere are actually three types of writers, 1. The ones who write so that their shallow egoistic nature is always filled up with praises. They have this desire to be always talked about, to be remem.. more..Writing
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