Limbo [PIC2016]

The forest was cold; how many hours spend watching the gray sky? It was hard to tell, it could be minutes it could be hours, always gray and cold nothing changes on the sky.

Where is my sister? we were on the car, she wanted the game but it was mine, little brat wanted it so bad, but it was mine, why would I give it to her mon, it is mine…

I was on the car but now I’m here, laying on the ground looking the gray sky, why am I here, where is her?

A branch crack on the distance- a young girl laughs- sister where you going, come back here. The kid runs toward the sound, he runs until he can no breath any longer, he runs some more, on his back again the sky is so gray, are these the same trees?



-Give her the game, we are not even half way to grandma house and I already have huge headache just listening to you two fight- dad is driving, why you don’t side with me? Mom always is on the little brad side… why should I give it to her, it’s mine…

A girly giggle again. How many hours spend watching the gray sky?

From where it came? All looks the same… -it sounds again, but nobody is there. The kid walks toward the sound, there is nothing, just a small group of stones, is she hiding there? -The giggle intensifies- stop it already, screamed the kid as he runs toward the monticule, sure his sister was hiding behind. When he arrives all he wants is to give a lill knock on his sister head for playing so heavy games to him, gotcha he screams with a little smile on his face as he jumps to the other side, but the smile fade as her sister was not there, just them hollow and cracked laughing at him.



Where are you mommy, I even settle for sister – without realize the boy though as the dead dolls stood there, with they settle smiles, as they were mocking him- to his horror the one that still had eyes turn them and look straight at him, her mouth move and them he know the source of the giggle was not his sister, nor the dolls were truly dead…

Running again, this time without aim, the little boy was without breath again, is this gray sky gonna change? Tired the boy though as he closed his eyes and fallen asleep without realize. Waking up suddenly he looks the sky, its gray, how many time did I sleep? So hard to say…

Was that building there when I got here? It looked like an old church, perhaps she was there…

The building was ruined on the outside, strangely inside the gray light keep the interior lid enough to see the statue and the stairs, are you up there?



The statue turned the head and saw the kid as he approached the stair, the kid was not afraid and started to go upstairs, always under the gaze of the statue. There was something comforting inside the ruins, even as it was as gray as the forest, the cold was not harsh inside.

At the end of the stairs, there is only a long corridor, he can see something at the end, as he approaches he can see a small mirror.



The more he walks something start to feel wrong to him, but what is it? Not more than three steps away he stops and realize what he sees, the mirror don’t show a reflection of him.

-it’s mine! The little girl grabs the game and they struggle for it, the mon yells then to stop and the father cannot take it anymore, he turns his head just a second to deal with the kids… only a second it takes… -

The kid sees behind the mirror- was that door always there? a giggle behind him- Sister! - shouts the kid as he runs outside looking for her.

Looking at the gray sky, he wonders how he got there, the forest was cold; how many hours spend watching the gray sky? It was hard to tell, it could be minutes it could be hours, always gray and cold nothing changes…

Sister?

Synopsis: A boy dies in a car crash, remorse over his actions toward his sister does not allow him to move on, staying forever in an endless loop.

All is the same? indigent is not a happy drunk, but the mirror is always in the end of the room... will he ever leave?

Hint: the dolls are other lost kids that never found their way...

www.youtube.com...

Indigent inspiration for writing in not optimal conditions:

Stephen King discusses Cujo in On Writing, referring to it as a novel he "barely remembers writing at all". The book was written during a period when King was drinking heavily. Somewhat wistfully, King goes on to say that he likes the book and that he wishes he could remember enjoying the good parts as he put them down on the page

Indigent quote:

Hey if it works for king it will work for me right? right?

Wrong

About the author:

creator of mediocre threads he tries for a second time to get a third price in one of ATS writing contest, his strategy? low participation and the banning of the rest of the competitors, so far it seems he will be stuck in his own endless cycle


Indigent circa Limbo publishing

a reply to: Indigent

I read your story when it was posted and forgot to reply.

Nice job.

a reply to: Quantum12

Thanks man!

a reply to: Indigent

Indigent!! That was awesome!

I really liked it. I started to grasp the 'real' story (the car accident) before I finished it...but I wasn't quite sure, lol.

S&F
The competition is dang good, lol.
jacy

a reply to: jacygirl

ty ma'am dragon (I actually read asoif last year and know the dragons are sexless).

The story is more complex in my mid, but i'm too dumb to put in words, the dolls are supposed to be other lost kids, they cry to call the boy, misery wants company.

as times goes by they lost their will and the older ones are completely hollow, no eyes, the one with eyes is newer

i wonder if i write it in my language and google translate it would be better

a reply to: Indigent

Honestly, I wasn't sure if English was your second language, or if you were writing "in character".

Others may suggest that you translate it, but I honestly enjoyed reading it the way it's written now.

I could tell the doll heads were lost kids' souls, and pretty much grasped everything you meant to convey.

Just curious, what is your native language?
jacy

a reply to: jacygirl

so i write like a 6-8 y/o boy? weeeeeee

I am hated by trump, I speak Spanish

originally posted by: Indigent
a reply to: jacygirl

so i write like a 6-8 y/o boy? weeeeeee

I am hated by trump, I speak Spanish

Hey, if I'm writing as an 8-yr.-old girl, I try to sound like one, lol.

You are hated by Trump?
I happen to hate Trump. On every level.

Spanish is beautiful. My hubby is Portuguese...(Azores)

jacy

a reply to: Indigent

This was so sad and poignant! Mediocre thread??? Pshaw.

Flag from me earlier - and star. Now cheer up, little reptilian friend! You've done a good bit of writing!

- AB

a reply to: Indigent

If I had to write a story in Spanish (or French, I know more French) you would think me a child of three.

Stop putting yourself down, or I will have to virtually smack you. Unless you like being smacked, in which case you will have to suffer through a hug. Your choice.

- AB

a reply to: AboveBoard

Thanks! In all honesty I'm going to a rough time in life, but it's not something I'm going to talk about.

I needed some appreciation, thank you all

Good job! Nice twist!

a reply to: Errollorre

thanks! makes me feel a regular M. Night Shyamalan

originally posted by: Indigent
a reply to: jacygirl

so i write like a 6-8 y/o boy? weeeeeee

I am hated by trump, I speak Spanish

Oh, that explains the armadillo lizard avatar.

Nice writing!

a reply to: Indigent

Very good!

I liked the informative part about the author even as much!

LOL

a reply to: TNMockingbird

I always heard back covers sells books

Thanks!