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Sunken Recollection

By Nash Carlisle All Rights Reserved ©

Drama / Mystery

The Under

A figure lies asleep.

Adrift.

Afloat.

A gasp.

It rolls on the ground, discomfort embodied in its moans.

In its cries.

In its tears.

In silence.

Its voice.

It awakes.

Pain stiff in its muscles stiffens its muscles.

It looks around at the Darkness.

Into the darkness.

The darkness does not stare back.

The Darkness does stare back.

The Darkness is it.

It is the Darkness.

Slowly, it makes the connection between its stiff neck and the rocks it rests upon.

And its stiff arms.

And its stiff legs.

And the stiff Darkness.

And its stiff darkness.

And it is stiff, Darkness.

It stands up and begins to cautiously wave its hands around, trying to make sense of what is happening, and what has already happened.

Past and present.

past and Past and present and Present.

Present is the pain.

Past is its vision.

They intertwine like the Pain and the Vision.

The Silence and the Darkness.

it and it.

it and it.

it and it and it and it.

Them and it.

Together.

It kneels down and feels the rock.

Cold rock.

It knocked against it with its knuckle.

Cold, hard, rock.

It moved its hand slowly over its surface.

Cold, hard, wet, rock

It strains its ears and faintly hears the sound of rushing water.

But which direction?

The Darkness is everywhere.

And the Darkness is everything.

The water is in the darkness.

The water is the Darkness.

It rubbed its head and tries to think about how it arrived here.

It can not remember.

Anything?

It can not remember that it knows nothing.

It knows nothing.

It does not know that it should know.

It knows nothing.

Nothing fills its head.

It knew nothing.

It clenched its fists and tried to remember.

It knew as much as the Darkness revealed.

And the Darkness reveals nothing.

It stood up and decided to head for the sound of water.

Water has to come from somewhere.

As it walked--shuffled--towards the sound of water its foot hits something hard.

Solid.

Painful.

Rock.

Cold, hard, wet, solid, painful, dark, rock.

It reaches down and feels a cylinder.

Not a rock.

Cold, hard, wet, solid, painful, dark, cylindrical, not-rock.

It kneels down and picks it up.

It runs its fingers across the surface.

A front.

A back.

Top.

Top?

Bottom?

Side?

Button.

Button!

Flashlight!

It turns on the light.

Flash!

Light!

A complex cave complex is lit by the light as the light’s light lights up the rocks with a flash of light from the flashlight's light bulb.

Gone in a flash with the flash.

“My name is Charlie.” He says.

And then everything changes.

She wonders why a flashlight would be lying on the ground.

A flashlight with no life.

A flashlight's flash of light flashed with light.

Now darkness in the Darkness with a name that is not not darkness.

But now it is Darkness.

Confusion. Contortion. Doubt. Difference.

It drops the flashlight.

It shrugs and continues on its way.

As it continued, the sound of water grew louder and more violent, and it grows more concerned.

Water is life.

Life is not violent.

Life is Violence.

Water is Violence.

Life is Water is LIFE is WATER..!!

It is the Water.

It approaches the source of the noise.

Water is the Source.

Water is the Noise.

Neither the source nor noise of the Noise and the Source.

loud.

Loud.

LOud.

LOUd.

LOUD.

loud!

Before it is neither a stream nor a trickle, but a river.

Raging forward.

Downward.

Straight.

Always.

The River was hungry for its next victim.

It has another victim?

The Darkness is the water.

The water was the Darkness’ victim. Run.

Suddenly, a light flashed in the water as it rode the wave towards the black below above.

“I am twenty-five years old. I have a child. Jordan.” It says.

Wonderful, it said.

Perfect, it said.

There was a rock pile to the left.

It was tall enough that it could be pushed over the river and allow passage.

But the Darkness does not like that.

Neither does the River.

The River frowned and the Darkness screamed as the light flashed.

And then it is gone.

The River smiles in the darkness of the Darkness.

It would be easier to drown, it says, and continues on to the right.

Ten minutes passed.

Ten more than none less than two times no minutes pass.

No time.

All time.

Everytime, and anytime, is time, always.

It was interrupted by a towering pillar of rock and the sharp piercing sound of glass shattering.

As the glass falls, a glimmer of light.

“I have black hair and brown eyes.”

One piece of glass lands in its left hand.

A red piece.

It could feel that it was red.

The Darkness told it.

The Darkness is it.

The darkness is it.

Red.

The red glass was Red.

RED.

It held onto the piece of glass and felt around the pillar.

Rock.

Warm, soft, dry, forgiving, smooth, red, everywhere-rock.

It turned back to the roving River with the Red glass as it came over.

The Red Rover and the Red Rover’s Glass came over.

Red Rover.

red rover.

Send it right over.

Sends It right over.

Sent it right over.

It Is Right Over.

.Revo Thgir Si Ti

It is right, over?

It is right, over.

Over. Run.

The pile of rocks on the left side is still there.

It walks over to the pile.

It tried with all its might to not fall over the side into the river’s River.

It gets behind the rocks and tried to push.

Nothing moved.

Nothing moved.

It moved with Nothing.

Nothing moved with It.

It tried again.

A small movement.

Then another smaller movement.

Another movement.

A larger movement.

A landslide.

And then the River screamed as it was cut in half by the rocks.

In rage and pain it raged against the pathway, pushing against it with the Darkness surrounding it.

Filling it.

Is it.    as fast as you can

In a burst of adrenaline, it runs across the pathway, only to feel it give out under its feet.

In a panic it turns to run back, but the rocks fall away before it, and it is forced to turn back around.

The rocks have fallen away.

Only the River.

And the Darkness.

A drowning embrace.

A dark encircling.

It takes a final breath and jumps across the River, landing on the bank on the other side with a thud.

And then Darkness takes it.

It wakes to a feeling of wet.

It wakes to a dream.

But to reality, a nightmare.

The River’s embrace was too strong to resist, and now it finds itself in a cavern floating in the River’s darkness and the Darkness of the river.

And then… another flash.

An explosion of light from everywhere but there.

Where?

It.

An exit.

And its enterance.

“I have a gun in the pocket of my jeans, which I am wearing with a white t-shirt and a light wool jacket as well as a pair of tennis shoes.”

The cavern is full of spikes.

Above the Water and below.

They lurk below the surface, waiting for the victim.

It began to slowly move towards the exit.

But when its an arms reach away, a spike reaches instead for its leg.

The smell of blood fills its nose.

The color of blood fills the water.

The Water is filled with darkness.

The Darkness takes the Red.

It pulls itself from the water.

The Red glass is in its hand.

Is its hand.

Its hand is it.

Is it?

Is it it?

It is it.

But it was not.

It never is.

As it pulls itself to its feet, it sees before it--right before it--a towering wall of rock. I told you I’d catch you

A light from above shines down below, sending the Darkness into the Water and the water from itself.

“I know everything.”

An empty cave behind it forced it to take ahold of the rock and slowly begin its ascent.

“I. Know everything.”

Rock falls from beneath its left foot, but it continues its climb.

“I know. Everything.”

A rock gives way in its right hand, but upward it climbs.

“I. Know. Everything.”

Another rockslide slides rock from its left side, but it defies the Rock and carries on.

“i know everything.”

Stone falls and upwards it ascends.

“i knew everything.”

It reaches the top, grabbing ahold with bleeding fingers and broken nails, hoisting itself up from the Darkness below, which grabs at its shattered soul’s soles in a final merciful grasp.

A blinding, endless, burning desert greets its vision.

More than it can take.

More than anyone can take.

It can not take it.

The gun!  sinner-bred man
Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, Nash Carlisle
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