The Third Door [NaNoWriMo 2014]

"I died.
Now I live.
But I live within the boundaries of my head.
What happens on the outside is beyond my control."
Constructive criticism is very welcome on this. I will be updating in small sections, but I will probably republish this with proper chapter splits when I finish it. © 2014 Parsavagely


23. Chapter 4 Part 6

As I return the work to Ed’s desk, he stops me, asking when Seb will be able to pick me up. I shrug him off and tell him I can walk, but Ed is having none of it, so I have to wait another hour or so to go home. I sit at my desk, watching the sun cross the sky, waiting. All of a sudden I feel my eyelids grow heavy and I become very tired. The pen I had been tapping on the desk falls to the floor as my head drops to my chest, unsupported by my weary muscles. But that is not me.

I can see the blue-haired woman, slumped over and sleeping in the afternoon’s sun. But it is not me, I never feel tired, how could I? I just know I have to escape, so I do. I leave the room, sprinting down the flights of stairs and out of the door. I dart between the cars, narrowly dodging a speeding taxi, down the hill, towards where I can see life. I see a few blossoming trees and a bed of red flowers, they draw me in, pulling, calling, dragging me.

Towards an illusion of freedom.

There is nothing natural about this place. Damn. It’s just a park, perfectly pruned and maintained, to fit in with society’s demand for order.

Damn order.

Order can go to hell, I want freedom, release from the prison of my mind. I just want to be able to let go, to live away from the pain and memories that seem to tarnish my future. I just want to stop being me. But I know there’s only one way to do that.

And I won’t.

Because, like the rest of humanity, I’m scared, a heavy hand keeps dragging me back to life. Even now, I hear him breathing down my neck.

Damn him.

Everything goes white.

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