Freedom

Freedom

A Story by Matthew
"

Short metaphoric horror story.

"
Still walking down the lonely, single corridor, I couldn’t piece anything together.  Everything that I wanted to be true, was false.  Everything that I needed to be true, no longer mattered anymore.  You can’t tell me to hold ideology so close to my heart, when everything about it can’t be what I want it to be.  Nothing is as close to me as you.  And I don’t want to believe it, but that sound won’t stop.


    I passed by three, four, and five people on my way down the mind numbing walk.  How sobering, how utterly negative this has all been.  They don’t look a thing like I thought they should.  Faces all befallen with grief, clothes tattered, torn, and worn.  Hearts as cold as the man that was reflected in their mirror.  I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.  It’s been too hard on my well being to continue to find hope in this bottomless pit of self-hatred.  So I wash my hands of this, and empty my ears of the sound.


    I continue to follow the long corridor that never seemed to end.  No matter how many long walks have been taken in this lonely place, I never got use to this.  I want to leave, I have to leave, why won’t they let me f*****g leave?  But all that changes today.  I am no longer being held captive in another long brainstorming session of torture.  I can’t bring myself to do it.  I refuse to close my eyes to this, I refuse to open my ears to this sound.


    Only a few more minutes now.  Just a few more minutes of captivity until freedom will be experienced.  I pass by six, seven, eight more people.  The same horrid look of utter despair in their eyes.  But I bet they will be here again tomorrow.  Not me, never me.  They won’t hold me inside, they won’t hurt my ears any longer.


    Finally I reach the entrance, that will soon be my exit.


    “See you tomorrow, Frank.”  The women said to me.


    “Never again.”  I replied under my breath.  I hate everyone here.


    The doors opened in front of me.  Thank God,  thank Christ.  I’m out.  I nearly ran to my car, unlocking the door.  The car shakes as I throw myself into the driver seat, and push the keys into the ignition.  The radio comes on, playing the same thing again.  The same commercials, and nearly the same music, but I can’t tell the difference anyway.  Everything is starting to cross the line from similar, to nothing different.  It’s just a matter of time.


    I push open the doors to my house, or apartment.  I can’t really remember anymore.  I walk past depressing kitchen, and throw myself onto my bed.


    “Freedom, I’m free.”  I say into the mattress.


    I close my eyes, and try to forget my day.  I drift into dream world, hoping that the figures don’t return tonight, but I know they will.  Just before I fall out of my awake state, I hear my stomach rumble from emptiness, but I can’t bring myself to fill it.








    My eyes force open to the terrible noise coming from my side.  I flip over, and walk into the bathroom.  The noise doesn’t seem to stop.  Driving me into a new form of madness I haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing.  Like a constant high pitched phone ringing.  I’ve given up on finding the source.  Maybe if I can escape, maybe if I can find another place to go.  I’ll find a way out of this sound driven psychotic mental state.


    After what seems like hours, I make my way to the car, and again, make the long drive back to the long corridor, that never seems to end.  The drive is peaceful, but I know the white noise will come to get me eventually, and maybe one day, it will stop.


    I enter the building, finally, an escape.  I can’t hear that God forsaken noise.  Finally, freedom.


    “Hey Frank, welcome back.”  The women happily said to me.


    “Good to be back.”  I replied.


    I walk towards the long, winding hall, and take my descent.  The doors open sometimes, and I face them to see nothing in return.  The glass isn’t as clear as it once was, just a different shade of red.  The doors that open by themselves have long given up, I press the makeshift button, and wait the required time.  The room reveals itself to be in a wired state, giving me no hope for the future, freedom is just a dream, and dreams are meant for those in an unconscious state.  The computer turns on, and greets me with a scream.  The phone rings, and I answer it again with the familiar noise of nothing greeting me.


    “Have a nice day.”  I reply to the soundless void.


    “Come back to me.”  The void says, finding its voice.


    “Never again, not while I still have my freedom.”  I reply coldly, and hang up the phone.


    A high pitched ringing sensation find itself existing in my ears.  The sound returns.

© 2014 Matthew


Author's Note

Matthew
Quick horror story I thought of. Reviews would be appreciated.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Reviews

I really enjoyed this! I usually don't read horror but, you kept me very interested the entire story! Great job!(:

Posted 10 Years Ago



Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

209 Views
1 Review
Rating
Added on January 2, 2014
Last Updated on January 2, 2014
Tags: Noise, freedom, horror, metaphoric, short story, trapped

Author

Matthew
Matthew

KS



About
I enjoyed writing comedy for the most part. I'm using this site to try my hand at poetry. Mostly I'm concentrated on poetry that could fit into music. more..

Writing
Lust Lust

A Poem by Matthew