Welcome to my depressing stories and one shots

Constants in Life

Slight  trigger warning this covers the topic of death and what is sometimes viewed as a personal hell so don't read this if you are uncomfortable with those things.

Here comes the constant nagging, the picking at of your own.
Wary to come home.
Here you don't want to be seen or noticed because of the constant scolding and unasked for opinions.

Again starts a new day, the same as tomorrow.
I wake up tomorrow and ask myself what would life be like yesterday.
As I ponder my torch starts to dim, my eyelids heavy and I fall into a deep slumber,
Never waking up.

My eyes feel dreary despite my long sleep and my shutters open and I feel like this has happened in a cycle:

The constant cycle of life.
Nothing ever changes, the cycle keeps on spinning, the gears in my head never clicking.
It's a quiet life, the same job dragging.

I tend to the horses.
I herd the cattle.
I fix up my barn, for the rain will pour.

Pouring and pouring tears keep on flowing.

Not mine; but of the ones who have lost.

I have never lost, whether it be game, resources or even be family.
For I don't have family, none that I know of even if I've asked.
I have no one to ask.
I live alone.

I feel this emptiness tugging at my heart.
The bliss feeling of joy never coating over.

Every year the feeling intensifies followed by a dream.
This dream is not happy nor is it scary.

It is only filled with sadness and loneliness.

It repeats and repeats, not bothering to ask of my consent.

This time is different, different from the last.

An entity takes me and walks me along.

I cross a plank.
I jump a log.

I drift wherever this 'thing' takes me.
Like a pet to its master.

At last, I see something the shape becoming clear.

A tombstone with my own name engraved on.
I feel a sense of dread wash over me.

I turn on my heel and run; running wherever my legs take me.
It feels like hours have passed, yet I don't feel winded nor am I tired.

I look back and see that I haven't moved an inch.

I face the entity and ask what it wants, but it doesn't answer.

Once again my shutters open.
I look around, not remembering what I saw.
The cycle begins once again.

I tend to the horses.
I herd the cattle.
I fix up my barn, for the rain will pour.

They say this cycle is endless, but every century the loop ceases opening for one.
It will show them the truth, the truth that has been shielded from them.

The farmer could never understand.
Waking up to the same day every night.

Many say he disappeared.
Others say he still lurks.
No one can solve the mystery.
But one thing is for sure:
The constants in life will always continue.

Well, at least for the farmer, he doesn't know he is dead nor will he ever.
The constants will always nag.

Written By: Ysabela Z.