Atrium Carceris

Atrium Carceris er produktet af et skriveprojekt, som foregik på engelsk(som jeg så senere har ændret i). Selv er jeg endt med at blive rimelig stolt over resultatet. Teksten er inspireret af et billede vi fik udleveret.
Titlen betyder fængselscelle. Læs en mere uddybende beskrivelse på engelsk lige her neden under.

Atrium Carceris is the product of a writing project, in english(which I have edited since). I ended up being quite impressed with the result. The text is inspired of an image we got just before the project started.
The title means prisoncell.

The text is about a mental condition the narrator has. The narrator doesn't understand the world, surrounding him/her and feels slighty close to death.
It was meant to have a very dark atmosphere, which I think it ended up having.
I don't really know what genre it might be, because it's not really a story, and not really an essay. There for it may be up to the readers to choose.


1. My inner carceris



In the night everything changes. Nothing is what it seems like, nothing is what you see. The darkness covering the world does not reveal anything else than shadows. Shadows of what we want to see and what we want to learn. The dark world outside doesnʼt want to let us know about the secrets thatʼs hidden underneath the surface of the gloomy light moon. We cannot go outside, because if we do the darkness is going to take us down to itʼs sacred rooms underground. Dark souls is out there, hunting, waiting for someone to come out. But itʼs too hard to stay here. Even though no doors are locked it feels like being in a prisoncell. A prisoncell only lightened up by a green lamp in the corner. We do not dare to lighten up anything else. Iʼve heard that unknown forces will find us if we do. None of us know if it is true, but rather not be aware than die.

I donʼt know why we ended up here. I only remember the night when we ran, my and my family, through the fields. There were no birds, and no sounds, but we fled. At that time I was scared, but Iʼm not anymore. My familyʼs scared, I can tell by the way they speak and turn around everytime a noise is heard from outside. We all wait for the sun to show up in the horisont, but I donʼt know if we will ever see it. At day itʼs dangerous to be outside. Weʼll get killed just because we fled back then... I want to find the good world. It is out there, but itʼs difficult to find.

 Iʼm not able to control my voice when I walk through the dark hall. I hear myself saying that I donʼt want to be in the prisoncell anymore, but the feeling of being imprisoned does not disappear. Not even when I walk along the wall to the other end of the building.

There is only one window and it is too high to look out from. An ambient light shines through the thick glass and reveals faces on the wall. Iʼve seen them all before, but Iʼm not sure where. I want to get away. Want to leave my family behind, to find the way to free- dom, but somethingʼs stopping me. Faces that was once beautiful stare at me with no eyes. Theyʼre telling me something, but I canʼt figure out what they want to say. My family is not calling, but I walk back to them. Back to the cell theyʼre sitting in and back to where I feel caught. No one dares to say anything to me and as I look at them i notice it. My little brother, the youngest of us all. Heʼs not alive anymore, but I donʼt think he has been for a while. No one noticed it when the dark stangled him. Now his face will be on the wall too. I do not know it, but I feel that is what is going to happen. I donʼt want to see it.
     I do not talk to anyone except of my self and the voices I hear when I walk through the hall. I stop below the window and wait. When the sun is up again Iʼll go outside...

They might kill me, but they canʼt scare me. They might cut my skin, but they will not make me panic. These are the thoughts runnign through my head as I walk through the door. The sun forces me to the ground and I feel like Iʼm dying. Itʼs my time to be a part of the wall with faces. My time to tell a poor soul to get out in the sun. But then I hear noises. A bird is singing and I canʼt believe the peacefull sounds I hear. Peace doesnʼt exist. I stand up, look around and notice I am breathing. It is not my time to tell other people to die. I am no murder.

Even though everything is lightened up by the sun the world seems strange. Secrets are not revealed, just hidden in other ways. The noises is killing my thoughts, but I canʼt get inside again. No oneʼs locked the door, but I canʼt open it. I hear myself scream- ing, crying for help, but nothing happens. I feel the grass on my skin, I lie down. The next thing I see it darkness.

They tell me itʼs day, but all I see is the light from the moon. Stars doesnʼt exist anymore.. The sun is dead, like my brother. I donʼt know who are talking to me, but they are not who I want them to be. They donʼt kill me and they donʼt torture life out of me. 

donʼt see blood on my clothes. I donʼt even know what pain feels like. All I know is the feeling of being dead, but not scared. I donʼt want to be scared. Maybe that is why they doesnʼt do anything to be. They want me to fear them... They will not succeed. They can torture me with their sun, but Iʼll be used to it, immune.

 I want to go back to my prisoncell. Not because of my family, they have probably forgotten me. They could also be dead.. Gone from the world because they didnʼt dare to go outside. Some day I will die too, but I will not be one of the faces in the dark hall. I miss the darkness and the ability not to know what is going on outside. Yes, I want to go back.

 They told me not to, but I didnʼt listen. I know they donʼt want anything good to happen to me and there for I make my way back. Of course I waited for nightfall... The dead souls of dark human beings would lead me to the door and to my dead family. The door is still locked, but itʼs broken. Someone tried to break out, but I donʼt think they succeed. As I touch the door the moon disappears and I feel the darkness surrounding me, making me fall.

 The prisoncell is broken, but still locked. I might fear death. 



Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...