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The trip

A story of the mind.

By Chelsea GilliattPublished 4 years ago 3 min read
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I ran. its all I  could do I this point He was coming. It was coming and there is nothing I can do about it. The forest is tall like a man but acts like the devil. The tress shield their faces away from me too scared to see about what's going to come. The forest was a complex place, full of vines and roots which twist and turn in all different ways. The tress shield their faces away from me too scared to see about what's going to come they hide their oak layer and replace it with mother natures mask. They wail for something, anyone, to come and protect their from the curse and cruelly of the forest but the forest isn't from a fairly tale so no one came to save them. The animals of the forest run away from the pain which laid there, waiting for them to fall for it, like they always do in the spell of hopelessness. The forest wasn't always filled with this curse, It was once filled with light and the goodness we all have in us but sometimes we all don't get our happy ending and the curse will be waiting to come and rain over us like pollution in the sea. Much like the pollution in the sea, The forest kills any or every source of light and live in it in a slowly mental way. I couldn't stay anymore i need to leave. i climb my way of out that forest and my eyes land on a dock? why would there be a dock next to a forest?

As the wind fought against me, trying to stop me from reaching my destination. my dream. My holy ground. After much force against this powerful wind I located myself on the edge of the rooting dock. the wood which my feet laid on was decaying, a bit like me. rotting. needing to be re- done. a fresh start. As I stood on the edge of nothing I felt my finger tip lose their normal tint of white and turn into a dark purple, my legs felt like they were going to break, like a twig on the floor which we would step over without a second thought. twigs are easily breakable. just like me. The air was cold, more cold then I had ever felt in my life, colder than their bitter hearts. the brunches on the tress would try to fight for the heat they so desperately needed. the floor was wet, it was like a crimson red colour like blood but darker. It felt like something wasn't right but I didn't know what. I froze I place, still waiting for the thing wanted most then my body suddenly felt a wave of panic hit like something was coming for me, I was confused.

"Am I going crazy" this thought lapped though my mind like a car on a icy track. I turn to see the tress they looked scared like they were hiding, hiding from what? What coming? my face at this point must of been as white as the snow which was left to lay on the grim floor below me. I tired to focus on the frosty sea which towered over me like I was nothing, I am nothing. what am I really? nothing! what is going on? my head is going crazy, i cant control it anymore. its over!

psychological
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