The Wall

It's just a normal day for you, right?

You wake up. It’s just a normal day for you. Sunlight struggles through the window. You rub your eyes, stare at the ceiling for a bit, then your clock. As you roll out of bed, you notice something. The sky, it isn’t quite right. Usually it’s more of a bluish-white, today, it’s a gray color. Must be close to rain, but no clouds. Weird, right? You carry onto your morning routine, get some clothes on, and you leave, ready to go through the day. Step in your car, put the key in the ignition, and start the car. You take your normal route, but no one is on the road. I mean, no one. You find someone, and he is walking, brooding. You pay no mind, until he begins to run toward the front of your car. You know him, you’ve seen him before. You swerve, as you look at him in your rear view mirror. He collapses to his knees, and sobs. He’s crazy, must be.

Further on your route, you run into traffic. Lights green, but the cars aren’t moving. Something isn’t right. Your first reaction is to honk your horn, your second, get out of the car.  You begin to walk toward the other cars, and upon reaching the front of the congestion, you realize all of the cars are empty. A chill goes down your spine. You begin to walk back toward your car, you sit down in the driver’s seat, and you stare at yourself in the mirror. You try and assess the situation. Are you dreaming, are you hallucinating? You put the key in the ignition, but the car doesn’t start. You try it a second time, and nothing. Out of anger, you hit the steering wheel as hard as you can. A couple more times after that.
What you don’t realize is the sheer amount of noise you just made. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a different man shamble out of an alleyway. You lock eyes, he definitely sees you. He begins limping toward your car. You get out of the car, and you stay put. You watch as he begins to move quicker and quicker, the closer he gets to you. You call out to him. He doesn’t seem to respond. He’s mumbling, but you can’t make out the words. He reaches his hands out, although he is still too far to actually touch you. You call out to him again, he starts mumbling his “words” louder. You begin to strafe slowly toward the trunk of your car, your back pressed against it, and your eyes fixated on the man still coming towards you.
He’s close enough now that you can see every detail of his face. He looks like he’s been crying, his eyes look like they’ve been through serious agony. His lips are chapped, but he’s still moving them as if he’s speaking in religious tongue. You put your hand out. You’re afraid. You want to scream, but you don’t want to excite him. He grabs you by the upper arms, pressing you against your own car with his weight. You can now make out what he’s saying.
“Wall. The wall. The wall. The wall. The wall. The wall. The wall! The wall! The wall!”
He’s screaming into your face. Staring deep into your eyes. He won’t let you go. You begin to hit him. You don’t want to hurt him. You hit him harder, but it doesn’t seem to do anything. He continues screaming. Now you are petrified. You put your hands on his head, thumbs covering his eyes. You don’t want to do this. Something is telling you to. End his misery.
“THE WALL! THE WALL! THE WALL!”
You begin to press into his eyes, blood running down you arms. You shirt starts soaking up some of the blood. He’s still holding on to you. Still screaming, but much louder now. He starts to squeeze you. Tighter and tighter. You press your thumbs deeper into his eye sockets. He still won’t release you. You dig your fingers into the back of his head, as you continue curling your thumbs into his skull. You can almost feel his brain throbbing. You can feel his grip loosening slightly, as your grip as his head only gets tighter.
He falls to his knees, still clenching at your arms. Still screaming the same words. You bend his head backwards, putting your full weight against him. You can tell by the way he’s saying the words, that he’s in worse pain than he’s ever been. Blood starts to drip from his mouth, dancing towards his nostrils. Even with a mouth full of blood, he’s still speaking. You keep pushing his head towards his lower back. He puts one of his hands on your shoulder, and begins to tug. Then...a snap. The lifeless arms go limp. You let go. What have you done?
You hear a noise. Similar to low-pitched static. You look around for the possible source. You begin to walk down the road, and the noise gets louder. You keep trying to locate the source, as the noise keeps getting louder. Then, you stop. The noise keeps getting louder, and closer. You turn your head around, and you notice the noise is  following you.
You feel energy. A tingling sensation coursing through your body. It gets harsher. You keep looking around. The noise keeps piercing you. No matter where you go, both the noise and sensation keep intensifying. You fall over, and begin to vomit onto the asphalt. You turn your head, and the source is right in front of you.
A moving black wall of unfathomable height. No texture, glare, or reflection. Pure darkness heading towards you. You get to your feet. The wall continues to advance toward you. There’s no way around it. The only thing you can do is run in the opposite direction.
You begin to run. The wall is following you. No, chasing you. The screaming man wasn’t attacking you, he was warning you. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t want to find out. You turn a street corner, and you run for maybe a block or two. You turn around. The wall keeps moving in the same direction. You’re okay. Then, before continue down the same road, the wall stops. It begins to move in the opposite direction. It stops again in the  center of the street you are standing on. You notice there is no thickness to it, it’s a completely flat subject.

Another wall multiplies from the original wall, this one heads in your direction. You begin panicking again. You’re too tired to run any longer. But you have to, you don't want to die here. You turn around, and push yourself to begin running for your life just one more time. You’re breathing is labored, your feet feel like absolute torture. You have to keep running. But….you can't. You fall toward the asphalt, and begin to vomit. You hear the wall closing in behind you. You look up, and spot a second wall gaining on you. You can feel the wall behind you. The wall in front of you is now within reach. You fall onto your back, and you cover your face with your arms. As if that’ll help you. You accept your fate.

• -

You wake up. It’s just a normal day for you. Sunlight struggles through the window. You rub your eyes, stare at the ceiling for a bit, then your clock

Wait, what? What just happened?

Author's Note

I tried to use imagery as best as I could to make it seem like the reader is the main character. Did it translate well?

Reviews

[Robert Parlange]

Great story. I'm not a fan of the second person perspective but it does work here. You have a natural style of writing that is easy to read. It is very fluid. The story has a beginning, middle, and end. There is enough suspense and danger to keep the reader interested and a sense of mystery. A waking nightmare that turns out to be a nightmare. Or was it?

Good effort.

[J. Justice Mendez]

I appreciate the review. I've always been told that I have a solid, natural writing style, and it's nice to hear that from a stranger.