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Soft Whispers

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As I lie in my recognizably average bed, the view past my feet is foreign to me. A light red wall, with a solidly two-dimensional midnight black design of flowers spreading across it.

A small chandelier made of cloudy glass hangs directly above me, making me feel a bit uneasy. My wooden door lies a few feet ahead of me, and to my left.

This is home. This is where I am now, and where I will continue to live. I flick on the not-so-bright lamp on the desk near my left as I sit up in my cold, barren bed.

First nights are tough, you should know. You've been through this a lot, haven't you? Wasn't your father a renown photographer? You would travel the world a lot, and it seems you've struck a passion for it, with your degree in cultural studies and whatnot. Whatever, I don't really care to relate to you much anyhow.


My head jolts to my window.

It seems the wind is howling up quite a storm tonight. Wonderful. My eyes slowly begin to fix in on my room. Surprisingly, it seems inviting. The warm light emitting from my lamp really livens up the room, creating an almost romantic feeling. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe I should listen to you more often.


I begin to realize that I have much-required sleep to attend to. I gently rub my eyes and let a yawn escape my lips as I turn off the cozy lighting and let darkness wash over my once-lovely room. Slowly, I crawl back under my sheets, and into my frozen bed. I shut my eyes as I think about how everything's going to be all well and good.


Perfect. Probably the arrogant, annoying landlord next door that I never really took the time to meet. Probably wants some money, or something. What do landlords even do?


I look at my window, staring half-heartedly while almost asleep.


Pebbles hitting the window. Guess it isn't a greedy landlord. This night's full of pleasant surprises, isn't it? I somewhat happily turn off my lamp and make my way under my sheets. As I lie, I stare up at my creme-colored ceiling for what seems like an eternity. Why'd you have to do this? Why'd you have to just barge back into my life and ask me to spend the rest of it with you? I mean, I don't hate you. I honestly don't.

...But why do you have to confess your passion towards me after so many years? Why couldn't you tell me back then? Why did you have to storm off so suddenly? God. I let my hand gently rest its palm over my face in frustration. Thinking. Something I need a lot less of.

My eyes slowly begin to gravitate shut. Let go. Let go of all control. Right now, sleep is my savior. The world gradually begins to fade to black as shapes blend and the howling of the wind twirls into an abyss of nothingness. The ultimate location of desire approaches me - a dream.

Slowly, but surely, a world emerges from the darkness. Though subtly different from our own, it is beautiful beyond simple human comprehension. It is my own. Untouchable by all. Out of reach of my foes. Out of reach of global warming. Out of reach of wars and power struggles. Untouchable by you, and your seductively ever-so destructiveness.

As this new Earth begins to settle, I sit upon the throne of the watcher, bound to no body. I gaze upon humanity starting to evolve, and disintegrate. I oversee a species alien to us, on a distant planet, plotting wars and speaking in strange tongues. I see it all, all at once.


My world immediately disintegrates into a creme-colored block. No - pardon me, that's no block, it's a ceiling.


Oh, right. I was dreaming. I toss and turn in my bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Kind of like your role in our partnership - always flipping things around for your own comfort.


Son of a shit. I'm already up, looking around for something to use as a weapon. Swiftly, I grab the lamp. That sound wasn't pebbles. That sound wasn't my landlord - in fact, that sound came from right behind my BEDROOM DOOR.


Oh god. Oh christ. That voice isn't human. I shiver as the cold, monotone voice rings in my ears. The innocence of a child, yet the tone of something out of this world. I'm already in a cold sweat, paralyzed with fear.


I crumble down to the floor. I can't even fucking see it. I CAN'T SEE IT. WHERE IS IT?!


Shit. Shit. I'm sorry for saying all that shit about you. I'm sorry for not supporting your cause. I'm sorry for not always being there - but most importantly, I'm sorry I won't be able to live long enough to do what you wanted me to do.

THERE IT IS. There's the last thing I'm going to see before I die. I can't even see it, just the outline of a horrific creature, obviously inhuman. Frozen in terror, I shut my eyes, readying myself for death's cold embrace.


I wait in silence for some time. When you're about to die, every second feels like ten minutes. After what felt like an hour of waiting, I open my eyes. Gone. It's gone.


I don't hesitate to move. I grab my keys and money, and race straight to my car. I don't know what that thing was. I don't know why it came, but I do know one thing - I'm sure as hell not staying around long enough to find out.

As I start up my car, my heart feels like it's going to explode out of my chest. I quickly pull out of my driveway, and blast full speed towards wherever the wind takes me.

Some time passes, and I notice a note in my passenger seat. Quickly, I snatch it up. It's covered in black gunk. I flip over the back to find some cursive.

"I forgive you."

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