Categories > Original > Horror
This is Terror
You can't breathe.
It is physically impossible and, for something that you don't normally even think about, you miss it terribly.
Perhaps it's the tightness that is stealing away your beloved breath.
Yes, now that you think about it, everything is uncomfortably tight; your chest, your lungs, your eyes tight-shut to offer you a slight reprieve from sight. It's quite a sacrifice though, sight for darkness. But that's okay; the darkness is gentle and all-consuming. Kind of like a blanket on a cold winter's night. Everything feels like less of a threat to you when it's hidden, sort of like when you were little and hid under the covers of your bed whenever you heard a scary noise. It's that kind of logic, just amplified to an infallible level.
But even that level of warped comfort given to you by the darkness does nothing to calm you now, does nothing to take away this tightness and lack of breath.
Your precious darkness, your oldest friend, has abandoned you to the claws of nothingness and you just can't breathe.
This, you think, this is what fear is. And you would be right, if only you weren't wrong.
Because this, this is terror.
And you can't breathe.
A/N: So this is what I get up to in my English classes. My teacher gave us five minutes to write a short story/story opener that created atmosphere. This is what I came up with. She seemed to like it, so I thought I'd post it on her to see what you guys think.
Feedback is hugely appreciated!
You can't breathe.
It is physically impossible and, for something that you don't normally even think about, you miss it terribly.
Perhaps it's the tightness that is stealing away your beloved breath.
Yes, now that you think about it, everything is uncomfortably tight; your chest, your lungs, your eyes tight-shut to offer you a slight reprieve from sight. It's quite a sacrifice though, sight for darkness. But that's okay; the darkness is gentle and all-consuming. Kind of like a blanket on a cold winter's night. Everything feels like less of a threat to you when it's hidden, sort of like when you were little and hid under the covers of your bed whenever you heard a scary noise. It's that kind of logic, just amplified to an infallible level.
But even that level of warped comfort given to you by the darkness does nothing to calm you now, does nothing to take away this tightness and lack of breath.
Your precious darkness, your oldest friend, has abandoned you to the claws of nothingness and you just can't breathe.
This, you think, this is what fear is. And you would be right, if only you weren't wrong.
Because this, this is terror.
And you can't breathe.
A/N: So this is what I get up to in my English classes. My teacher gave us five minutes to write a short story/story opener that created atmosphere. This is what I came up with. She seemed to like it, so I thought I'd post it on her to see what you guys think.
Feedback is hugely appreciated!
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