Alive (version 2)

This is an improved version of one of my old stories. You can read the old version >>> here. I'm reposting this because I much prefer what this story's become with time and my own improvements in my writing. I hope you enjoy reading it


Alive

I could hear the rain against the window, as I sat hunched over in my living room with the curtains drawn. I found comfort in the dim light, as the weather outside became more like the fingers of several hands tapping the glass. They couldn’t see me. They were blind to me, just as I was blind to the world outside.

A sudden gust of wind howled its way past my safe little box. For a moment I wondered how it would feel to walk out the door and feel the air rush past my face, stealing my breath, threatening to tear the hairs from my scalp. As horrifying a prospect as my mind made it, there was an attraction to the fear. There was no life in here. There was only death out there, but at least it was something.

I stood up, filled with a sense of purpose. Walking towards the door, I noticed how the worn carpet scratched against my bare feet. With each breath, I pictured the dust and recycled air flooding my lungs. Every pounding heartbeat resounded in my ears, reminding me that I was alive, but had never lived. Alive, but dead. Unknown, unseen.

Fingers trembling, I unlatched the door and froze with my hand on the door handle. My mind was turbulent with screaming doubts. Pressing my hands over my ears only locked the shadows inside my head in tighter. They pummelled my skull to the rhythm of my pulse and their keening shrieks rose to a crescendo. My eyes flew open, wide and determined. I could almost feel the heat of their fire. The screams continued, but I would not listen, I could not.

I forced down the handle and threw the door open, too panicked to even pause and think what I might have been hurling myself into. I took my first stumbling steps into the street, feeling like a child, reborn, as the rain fell on my skin. I tried to understand what I was feeling, as an unfamiliar sensation told of my face shifting in an unusual way. Its entire structure seemed lighter, as I felt my cheekbones lift, along with the corners of my mouth. I lifted my head and stretched out my arms to welcome the pleasantly cooling raindrops drenching my hair and clothes, as I smiled for what felt like the first time.

My heart leapt and I almost ran back inside as I heard movement nearby. Taking deep breaths of rain tinged air to steady my nerves, I turned and saw another woman. She held her jacket closed to protect herself from the weather as she took out the rubbish. I wondered why she had not spared a glance in my direction, as she too lingered outside her door, for we were fairly close to each other. Close enough, I would have thought, for her to sense my presence as I watched her.

I risked a closer look at her face. Her eyes were dead – cold and emotionless – an expression I recognised from each time I had looked in the mirror ever since I could remember. She was alone too. Her front door was open, but no sound emanated from inside the house. I thought about starting a conversation with her. It felt uncomfortable to stand and stare at her, like I shouldn’t have been there. I got the impression that she’d suffered in ways that no human deserved. It unnerved me.

“Hello,” I said feebly, purely in an attempt to catch her attention and stop her staring at nothing. She didn’t bat an eyelid.

“Is something wrong? Can I help you?” Again, there was no response. She appeared to have stopped blinking. I told myself that it was all in my mind. I wasn’t used to this new world. While I had been trying to talk to the woman, the rain had slowed to a stop. There was a long, loud silence.

She turned to me. Her face was deathly pale. Her eyes had dark circles below them, like mine. Those blank eyes bore straight though me, unseeing. My throat too dry from terror to scream, I turned and ran. My bare feet caught on every loose pebble and crack in the pavement, causing a sharp jolt of pain each time. I had no idea where I was going. All I wanted was to get as far away from...it, as possible. I bolted down street after street, my eyes flitting wildly in search of somebody who could help me. There was nobody else. There was only me and it left. I didn’t know if it was following me. I didn’t know anything any more. Completely lost, I stopped for breath. Horror destroyed all rational thought.

My shoulder turned to ice. I felt eyes on me. I looked up and saw myself, my desperate expression, my thin, chapped lips open in terror, my wide eyes with their dark shadows. But those blank spaces saw nothing. Its hand lay on my shoulder. From the corner of my vision, I saw the hand decompose. The flesh of my corpse self rotted before me, its bones crumbling to dust. Covering my eyes, I tried to breathe deeply, fighting weakly against the sickly pangs making my stomach churn. My breathing only became thinner, and rattled as I saw white behind my eyelids. The light consumed me and warm relief flowed through my mind.

I felt the roughness of the carpet in my living room. I opened my eyes and found myself sprawled on the floor in my house. I stood and tried to recall what had just happened, but it was already blurred and fading into nothing. I looked towards the door and it sparked a revelation. I luxuriated in the vague sensation of cooling droplets tumbling from above and falling on my face. Unsure, but tempted to discover where this blissful memory had come from, I walked towards the door. I thought hard and remembered opening it. My reflection flashed across my mind. Something warm revealed itself, something that felt white...then nothing. It was as though I had been repeating the same ritual for an eternity. What a pathetic, hollow shell of a life. I wondered if there would ever be anything else, as I rested my fingers on the door handle.

I wondered if I would ever feel alive.