A blurb of a story I was thinking of writing
I lay in my bed staring up into a sea of nothingness. The darkness engulfs me, swallowing me up and spitting me out in a state much worse then before. It was quiet this morning, a sort of peaceful yet earsplitting silence that bothers you uncontrollably. I say earsplitting because it was so quiet everything seemed so loud and the ringing in my ears became deafening. I couldn't help but yell into the early morning darkness, and shout away the serenity.
I didn't just shout for nothing, indeed I shrieked for Jacklyn, my younger sister to put me out of my misery. I still seem to forget though that Jack is deaf. It feels as if it were only yesterday the doctors confirmed she was untreatable. Sometimes, though, I dare to think it a wonderful thing she were deaf. But I know that's a horrid, and unthinkable thought that call the shadows from their resting place. The shadows like to sneak into your mind and steal your thoughts only to toss them out of your mouth when you least expect it. But that only happens to those naive enough to not lock up their thoughts before they drift into slumber. If you had remembered to shut the doors to your mind and chain up your imagination, the wind may still blow open the door, and the chain may fall loose to the floor. That's what happens most of the time. We try to make right what was made so very wrong by saying, "I didn't mean to say that,". Which is true in a way, since the shadow is responsible for tossing out your unthinkable thought. But we must always remember that the more we have to use the lock to keep our awful thoughts tucked away, the more the lock rusts and the more the shadows play.