Taylor Zak
Bio
Dark romanticism is what I write, perhaps it's because it's all I know, perhaps it's because my imagination has the reputation of running wild, perhaps it's a collaboration of both.
Stories (1/0)
The Candle By The Window
“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The air and night were brumous as darkness quickly approached the night sky, like a barren woman, desolate from stars. All that painted the canvas of the night sky was a full moon shared with a vague glimpse of the flickering of light from its candle. My feet began walking, steadily but slowly about, and like an autonomic response, I made my way towards the cabin. I wasn’t sure what had come over me; nonetheless, I felt compelled to know more. Instantly, I feel my body tighten, paralyzed with horror, as my next step forward revealed the encounter between my shoe and that of a suspicious sound. My eyes look beneath me and my hands retrieve a letter. I quiver and with shaking hands, I bring the letter within close proximity. The letter was typed on card stock like paper and my fear arose as I pondered, “Why hasn’t this letter been touched by midnight’s snow?” Working up the courage, my tongue utters as I read aloud, “ Purgatory is the hardest riddle of them all.” With no time to reflect on the meaning behind the cryptic message I hold within my hands, a sudden gust of wind causes the letter to fall away from me and as my eyes slowly make their way up, I catch a quick glance of an elapsing silhouette, making its way towards the cabin, but just like smoke, it fades. If ever a time to turn back, it was now. But instead, I wince at memories I wish I could forget, consequently, my mind becomes flooded of times when I coward down in the face of school bullies. “Not this time,” I affirmably but softly whisper to myself... “No waving of the white flag here!” I nod my head in determinacy, and with a deep breath, I bend down in hopes of retrieving the letter. Though I’m convinced the message is the same, my vision now deceives me, for each time my mind attempts to transcribe the words contained within this letter, I find that I’m as blind as a bat! A wave of nausea crashes over me, the cabin that stands before me is now distorted as my world goes vertigo. And just like that, my world turns black, and there I lay, unconscious deep in the woods.
By Taylor Zak2 years ago in Psyche