eleanor writes again 😨

8 1 12
                                    

haha I'm inspired.
this is just a short story.

TW: bomb, unaliving, manipulation











He looked at the flowing crowd that was spilling through the hallway, notebook in hand. Chatter filled his ears, along with a steady ticking sound. How strange they seemed to him, a mere boy. They ignored him, never glancing at the boy sitting on the floor, staring at them with black, soulless eyes.

He glanced upward, unbothered, attention catching on the large, sparkling chandelier spinning and reflecting light rainbows onto the faces of all who watched. All who dared.

It was almost time.

Looking back at the crowd, he saw everything. Every untold secret, hidden truth, and deepest fear. He saw the black hearts, the hearts of ice, and the heartless. He knew who he was looking for. Or so he thought.

He grasped at the box that was sitting next to him, picking it up delicately. One bump, and that was it. He stood, wobbling on unsteady legs. It was time.

He took a few steps, trying to avoid the pressing crowd, but it was impossible. So he joined them in the mindless flow of bodies.

He stopped at the gilded entrance to the restrooms, looking for them. And he knew. He knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong. And he was scared.

But there was a mission to finish, and he knew that his mother would reward him with ice cream if he was a good boy and finished the task.

Gulping away the fear, he opened the door, immediately greeted with the person he was looking for.

"Here is the package. Mother said to tell you that 'it's best to do it as soon as you get it. ' Good day." He said stiffly, handing the ticking box over to the person's open arms.

He needed to run.

And that's what he did.

Until he saw the chandelier.

Spinning

Shining

Casting rainbows onto the faces of those who dare look up.

He stopped, mesmerized. His mind finally clicked. That package was no book delivery. He was young, but not dumb.

He looked around him, eyes wide. No one would believe him. No one would listen. They would just continue their endless chatter, walking mindlessly in one throng.

He felt nothing for them. They were all just humans. Worthless humans with nothing of value.

And then he ran again, not out of fear, but self preservation. To the entrance, to the street.

And then it happened.

Everything came crashing down, amid the horrid screams of absolute terror. He couldn't stand it anymore.

He ran again.

Farther.

And farther.

Until he was completely lost.

Never to be seen again.

But still, he remembers the chandelier.

Shining,

Spinning,

Casting rainbows onto the faces of those who dare look up.

there better be a mirrorball, miscWhere stories live. Discover now