He offered me pristine white paper to write on, and I accepted it gladly, filling it with outlines and plots and characters, each connected by arrows and bubble clouds and crossings out. He watched me work; a silent sentinel guarding me from distractions who smiled whenever I looked up, nodding his encouragement.
I wrote longhand and forgot the time. There were no windows and the door was behind me—just a fluorescent light overhead to dispel shadows from the table. Page after page I wrote, picking up a new pencil whenever the current one ran became a stub. He always made sure the next was freshly sharpened.
I ignored the hunger. If I didn’t eat, I needn’t leave the room at all, and if my clothes felt a little looser, so much the better. After two hundred pages my fingers were sore. After five hundred I couldn’t open my hand to release the pencil. After a thousand I could see bone through the calluses.
When I finished the book he stood to shake my hand. My legs were more like sticks and wouldn’t support my weight but he didn’t seem to mind. He patted my shoulder as he passed and I could hear the door open and close, even if I couldn’t turn my head.
I waited for about an hour until the door opened again. A different man sat down and handed me a stack of white paper covered in tiny, crabbed handwriting. I looked at him, and he smiled and nodded and handed me an eraser.
__________
Rachel Green is a forty-something writer from Derbyshire, England. She lives with her two partners and three dogs. She was the regional winner of the Undiscovered Authors 2007 and her novel An Ungodly Child was published in 2008. When not writing, Rachel walks her three dogs, potters in the garden and drinks copious amounts of tea.
14 comments:
Anyone else as freaked out as I am, at how closely that resembles our lives???
o_O
Bloody well done.
Thank you. This one scares me still.
Scares me too :) Excellent.
That's a haunting story, Rachel. Makes you wonder what the crime was to get that punishment.
OMG! *checks over her shoulder to make sure the room is empty and the door is open*
Creepy.
very bloody fantastic! (what i'm not allowed to say bloody too? just because i'm an american...)
Eeeeeks. Too close to the skin. Well done, Rachel!
Sweet - and a little close to the bone.
Excellent, with or without the bloody, regardless of if you're an American, a Canadian or from anywhere bloody else!
Fantastic story, Rachel. Scary in all the right places.
Oh, that is really ... don't know the words except I wanted to carry on reading more !
I think this is my favourite so far. Very well done. Shudder.
Very creepy indeed - loved it.
Is there another BT? This is me. The Tart. Scary story, brilliant. Shiver.
I love the nightmarish quality of this story.
Post a Comment