Supernatural
By: RDV
She trusts that there are things whose presence is affirmed even without the actual view, thereby offering the probability that indeed the eye can be deceiving. Or should we say not as efficient as to reveal the unseen. There. She has touched a subject she has been omitting all this time and she can’t promise anyone that she’s too happy about it.
Whispers in the dark. Just what are they? Such an odd phrase. It better had no answer. It had better be a fib.
She comes barging in on her solitude. Her sister. Claiming that voices seep from the netted windows, which of course was impossible to discern if true or not. The windows apparently have nothing to proffer from the other side but brick-layered walls, which aren’t much of a sight. And since they aren’t, the question begs to be put in motion.
Unless the dog learned the art of talking, the anecdote is a complete mystery. There on her bed, both of them fight against the stardust, battling against what they so want to forget. They have no arsenal apart from their mutual reliance on each other. They are scared. They wish they have erroneously heard everything instead. Sleep has by then proved to be a non-resort. In their stimulated fear, their eyes bar their lids so they won’t close. But they do. Nightmares fail their attendance. Interruption was barely there as the night promises to be peaceful. There’s a fog that hovers just beyond the window, like an apparition that’ll dissolve upon being paid the slightest attention. Time, yes, time passes so agonizingly slow. They lay there, trying hard not to suffer in the dark.
Only the fright inside them keeps brewing, extending itself up to their battered consciousness, the situation continuing. A fugitive thought dawns on them, pushing itself up the surface; maybe someone wants to be remembered.
In the morning, there comes a curious reminder from the calendar. A dead family friend just had his birthday. The news has arrived so belatedly so maybe the departed aren’t happy.
Whoever said that they won’t bother to be forgotten?
She trusts that there are things whose presence is affirmed even without the actual view, thereby offering the probability that indeed the eye can be deceiving. Or should we say not as efficient as to reveal the unseen. There. She has touched a subject she has been omitting all this time and she can’t promise anyone that she’s too happy about it.
Whispers in the dark. Just what are they? Such an odd phrase. It better had no answer. It had better be a fib.
She comes barging in on her solitude. Her sister. Claiming that voices seep from the netted windows, which of course was impossible to discern if true or not. The windows apparently have nothing to proffer from the other side but brick-layered walls, which aren’t much of a sight. And since they aren’t, the question begs to be put in motion.
Unless the dog learned the art of talking, the anecdote is a complete mystery. There on her bed, both of them fight against the stardust, battling against what they so want to forget. They have no arsenal apart from their mutual reliance on each other. They are scared. They wish they have erroneously heard everything instead. Sleep has by then proved to be a non-resort. In their stimulated fear, their eyes bar their lids so they won’t close. But they do. Nightmares fail their attendance. Interruption was barely there as the night promises to be peaceful. There’s a fog that hovers just beyond the window, like an apparition that’ll dissolve upon being paid the slightest attention. Time, yes, time passes so agonizingly slow. They lay there, trying hard not to suffer in the dark.
Only the fright inside them keeps brewing, extending itself up to their battered consciousness, the situation continuing. A fugitive thought dawns on them, pushing itself up the surface; maybe someone wants to be remembered.
In the morning, there comes a curious reminder from the calendar. A dead family friend just had his birthday. The news has arrived so belatedly so maybe the departed aren’t happy.
Whoever said that they won’t bother to be forgotten?
posted by Ria D. at
12:24 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home