Eternal ForestA Story by pkrbarmovieA short story of a young man's struggle with schizophrenia.I should have treated this sudden strike of tiredness with more care.
As people keep living their lives, I crept and shall forever creep in
loneliness and pain. It had all begun at the sound of bells... Church bells to be exact: The twelve thunderous strokes fill my head with dull pain and a
buzzing sound in my left ear. Last night, I had drunk way past my share
and fell asleep five hours into my normal bedtime. And now, these damned
church bells keep pushing their cloudy racket into the inmost depths of
my mind... At last, the church bells terminate their deed and silence
befalls upon the outside world. As I struggle to rise and shine, I hear a
loud knock on my door. "Who is it?" I yell, perched on my bed. On the
other side of the frame, a raucous and deep voice utters an
unintelligible sentence. I decide to stand up and open the door. But as I
am about to turn the handle's lock, I decide to ask: "I didn't get what
you just said, could you please tell me who you are?" I hear no answer
and decide to open it... My eyes strain at first. Deciphering the messed up picture that
lay exposed before them was no easy deed. A pale and wrinkled face, a
black top hat, a white mustache and a gray goatee, a long black cloak
covering everything underneath the neck, white gloves on his shaky hands
and a gnarled, mystical walking stick. A frail old man stood before me.
It is not his being that prompts such an uncanny fear in me but how he
merges with the hallway behind him. It is as if his faintness, in the
stead of contrasting with the corridor's bright lighting, dimmed down
the latter into an abominable and horrific state of lifelessness... He hands me a letter. "I am a testament executor. As of
yesterday, your uncle Yaroslav is no more. In his will, he left his
house to..." My body twitches as he speaks my name. "Why me? So many
sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, descendants and other family
members! Why me?" The pitiful look of the frail old man's face tells me
everything: it is not a choice, it is an accident. Pure lucklessness
that will shatter my life. How? You shall understand... It is a long ride until Yaroslav's house. He, a rich yet infamous
writer, lived in seclusion. His house is far out of my small hometown
and as I am way too poor to possess a car, I am getting there by bus. As
the sky gets darker and darker, I glance outside through the window. A
soporific and colorless forest is spread alongside the bus' path. As
lifeless as it is, it is a beautiful sight. It seems eternal and grand.
Suddenly, the bus stops. The driver glances at me and gestures "get
out". As I set foot on a pebbly path I see it for the first time of my
life. The eternal forest ends right where the terror begins. The
horiffic house stands tall and mighty, and it's powerful ardor is
calling me... I step inside and shut the front door behind me. I can only
describe the house as dimly gray and mysteriously familiar. It is, of
course, a giant house. So many rooms and floors, I cannot count them
all. As I explore the house, I step into a small and quiet bedroom. For
no apparent reason, the room is cooler than the rest of the house. My
attention is seized by a closet. I hear a whisper coming out of it.
Strangling both fear and reason, I swing the closet doors open. No
living creature, simply a twisted game of my confused brain. Yet, there
is a hole. A small, negligible hole. I look behind me: the bedroom door
is slightly open. I take a deep breath and look into the hole... In the hole, I can see the adjacent chamber, another bedroom. It
is unlit and empty, and as I stare at it, vigor is drained from my body
at an incredibly fast rate. I glance at my watch: 9:38 P.M. I am
hungover, hungry and exhausted. I lay myself upon the cold, hard bed and
close my eyes... As my eyes open, morning lives outside. But the bedroom remains
gray and sad. Again, whispers come out of the closet. I get up and swing
it's doors open. Nothing. I put my eye close to the hole and I see... The frail old man. He stands there in the middle of the
previously unlit room, which is now starkly bright. My heart barely
stops pumping and a dizziness strikes me. My legs support my body only
by a hair. The horrid, spontaneous sight makes me whisper an
unintelligible sentence. The frail old man swiftly turns his head
towards the hole. His eyes... I let out a deep, short scream, turn around and run towards the
door. I can't dare to look behind. I was on the second floor, so I run
downstairs and as I am about to kick open the front and final door, run
outside and never enter this horrible house again... A young lady grabs me by my arm. She wears a purple dress and is
of a much beautiful sight. My body is vacillating between heart attack
and total relaxation. Smiling, she says: "You can't go outside. No more.
You can go outside no more." I ask her why and she answers: "Everyone
who enters this house must die. You knew that before you came, didn't
you?" I silently nod. I feel the frail old man standing behind me. I am
awaiting a sudden death. The fear is too great for me and as for a
couple of seconds nothing seems to happen, I decide to grab my destiny
by it's horns: with all my remaining strenght I jab the smiling lady on
the cheek, jump out towards the front door and look behind me. The frail
old man. His face and its everlasting memory still incite a fearful
creature to chase me in the darkness of my dreadful, unspeakable
nightmares... Outside, I run. I run towards the forest. In this peaceful
sanctuary I shall always live in safety, yet my desire to live shall be
drained each morning as I shall remember... As I enter the gray and lifeless abyss, I feel miserable and loathsome. My ear buzzes, my head is on the verge of exploding, the distant sound of bells remains a vile reminder of how this day began, my heart aches, my youthful strenght is gone and my life lost its previous meaning. I shall rove in this forest in constant loneliness and pain. I shall creep away and draw my final breath in solitude and contempt for life. As I turn around, I see no beginning, no end, only gray trees. Nothing moves, everything is dead. I am here, imprisoned in the eternal forest, for good. © 2013 pkrbarmovie |
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Added on February 3, 2013 Last Updated on February 3, 2013 Tags: schizophrenia, mental illness, short story, scary AuthorpkrbarmovieMontreal, Quebec, CanadaAboutI am not really a writer per se, but I do enjoy to write. more.. |