Waiting For A Message
I'm just this guy, you know?
To expand on that, I am also the following...
- A former ficly member who is 38 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)
- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch
- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes
- Always too hard on myself
He hoped for a message. Something that would reassure him that they were still there. That things were OK. That plans were still in motion.
He got nothing.
Day after day he hoped the same hope and was met with silence. Well, not silence, but they were not among the usual chatter that ran through his head.
He took his pill. It was supposed to help. It didn't. He knew why.
It had truly been a while since he last got something from them. He'd settle for anything though. Just the smallest transmission. The tiniest inkling that things might be OK eventually. That they were still there with him, working against them and trying to help sort all this mess out and keep him safe.
He begged and pleaded in his mind, hoping that they were linked in some sort of psychic connection, but regardless of if there was a connection or not he got no response.
He turned his fan on low and splayed out in his bed, limbs akimbo and stared at the ceiling.
Soon he drifted off.
It was then that contact was made...
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
It's always been interesting to me how certain kinds of mental illness almost lend themselves to provide comfort to the sufferer.
- #2581 Posted 4 years ago
I can't tell if "them" or "they" are real or not. ..
I think that works well with this piece.
- #2603 Posted 4 years ago
- Published 4 years ago.
- Story viewed 6 times and rated 0 times.
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