WORTHLESS LIFE

I wrote this short story in study hall one day meh.

Left, right, left, right, I walked alone as I always did. Loneliness can’t kill you, but it will take you pretty far in the right direction. It was a blue night, a night where the sky decides to be painted a dim blue instead of its normal charcoal black. The moon was full of pink tonight, it almost looked like an apple, in fact, it was an apple. The apple fell into my palms, leaving a thirsty dark hole in its spot in the space beyond. I then looked up at the stars, and they were telling me to take a bite, chanting, begging, screaming. My heart says nay, I must trust them not, but my anxiety takes a hold of me and my mouth meets the apple, it tasted of pink.

Dead. Dead is how I feel. Black. Black, the sky has changed. Stars rain down from the sky, leaving me to drown as I swirl and twirl around and around, falling into the hole the apple left for me in the black night sky. I spin for hours, or was it minutes until the black covered the hole and I dipped into a little place called hell. When I arrived I was walking on the bottom of a red tinted sea, the ground was matted with thorns, I’m pretty sure my feet were bleeding, and two and two told me that was exactly why the sea was tinted red. Somehow I am fine with this and walk until I enter a stone cave. I quickly swim to the surface and try to catch my breath; listening to the echoes my air creates through the stone walls. The echoes turn to whispers, burning my ears with the intensity of the sharp crisp consonants over the fuzz of the actual literary content. The static fades and the whispers begin to sound clearer, I can almost make out what they’re trying to say, and I think they realized this because they began to get louder, and louder, and louder. “WORTHLESS LIFE,” they scream, “WORTHLESS, WORTHLESS, LIFE.” Their words are gripping my throat I can’t breathe. In a gasp I wake up.

“F**k, thank god that’s over.” I mumbled to myself.