The Colors of Darkness
Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2015 1:09 am
So, new story inspiration. Actually have a few of those I'll be posting on and off. But this one is for a Novel I fully intend to write *and* finish, even if it kills me in the process.
Things aren't completely plotted out yet, but here's the first draft of the opening/prologue--thing. I wrote. Enjoy.
----
What would you do if one day, you opened your eyes to greet the day, and it looked like you had never awakened? What if, one day, the sun never rose, and you couldn’t see its vibrant rays sneaking toward you? To kiss you good morning, and comfort you warmly?
What would it be like to turn from the shadows, and yet, never seem to escape their grasp? To never be able to rip off the blindfold that shut you off from the light, from the reality and comfort you once knew, no matter how hard or desperately you tried?
...How would you learn to walk in the dark?...
If someone told you you would never be able to see again, how would you react? You might refuse to believe it and deny it, or you might break down in tears. You might yell and curse, or you might simply sit there, dumbfounded, without even hearing the world around you. You might do all of the above, or you might not.
One thing you would respond with is shock. Absolute, no doubt about it, world shattering shock. Blind. You’re blind. You’ll never be able to watch a movie, or take a picture, or see a painting ever again. Not normally. And that’s when it hits you. You will never be normal. You will always be outside of your surroundings, and not even be able to look inside, because everything around you is dark. So dark and alone and suddenly you’re afraid. You’re absolutely terrified, because you don’t know how you’ll ever truly function again. Your identity and your reality are both shattered, because you can never truly be you again, all because you lost a little thing you’ve taken for granted for so long, and now you realize that your entire world functions on sight, and you no longer know who you even are, because if you can’t see to do the things you love, how will you ever do the things you love again? And if you can never again do the things you love, the things that make you who you are, then who exactly are you?
You don’t know the answer, and it’s killing you, because surely there’s some sense of normality left within you, and surely your world has more to be, more to do than simply wait until everything ends. People don’t stop living when they lose a limb, or lose their hearing, so surely they don’t when they lose their sight, right? Right. You know they don’t. You’ve read the books, and heard the legends. You’ve seen the movies, and listened to the testimonies, and you know how many of the stories are true. People go above and beyond, and nothing, not even darkness can stand in their way.
And you want to believe them. You want to believe you can do the same thing. That, in the end, everything will be alright, just as it should be, and being blind won’t be the end of the world. And yet, your mind still races. Your heartbeats are still so hard, so desperate to escape your chest, as you are to your newly found reality, and you’re pretty sure it’s the only anchor you have to sanity at the moment, because dear heavens you’re blind. What are you going to do now. How are you going to cope. You feel completely inferior to all the heroes in the stories, because they’re amazing, and you’re you. It feels like they could overcome anything, and you can’t even overcome your fear of spiders. (And while your mind wanders that direction, you suddenly realize you can never see a spider again. Which would be a blessing, if you didn’t have to constantly wonder if there was one near you or not, now. Since, you know, you can’t see them anymore.)
And you feel like your emotions are going to murder you if they don’t slow down, because you feel everything and nothing at once, and you just can’t decide if you feel depressed or afraid, or angry at the world. But one thing you know is that you feel absolutely alone, and you hate it, because all you want to do is see the world around you. You want to see the faces of the people who visit you, not just hear their voices, and feel their hands squeeze yours just a little too tightly. To see the test results for yourself, not just hear about them, or pretend to understand.
You want to see the damage done, not just remember it in a foggy blur of fading memories.
You don’t want to just remember.
Actually, you’d rather just forget.
I’d rather just forget.
Things aren't completely plotted out yet, but here's the first draft of the opening/prologue--thing. I wrote. Enjoy.
----
What would you do if one day, you opened your eyes to greet the day, and it looked like you had never awakened? What if, one day, the sun never rose, and you couldn’t see its vibrant rays sneaking toward you? To kiss you good morning, and comfort you warmly?
What would it be like to turn from the shadows, and yet, never seem to escape their grasp? To never be able to rip off the blindfold that shut you off from the light, from the reality and comfort you once knew, no matter how hard or desperately you tried?
...How would you learn to walk in the dark?...
If someone told you you would never be able to see again, how would you react? You might refuse to believe it and deny it, or you might break down in tears. You might yell and curse, or you might simply sit there, dumbfounded, without even hearing the world around you. You might do all of the above, or you might not.
One thing you would respond with is shock. Absolute, no doubt about it, world shattering shock. Blind. You’re blind. You’ll never be able to watch a movie, or take a picture, or see a painting ever again. Not normally. And that’s when it hits you. You will never be normal. You will always be outside of your surroundings, and not even be able to look inside, because everything around you is dark. So dark and alone and suddenly you’re afraid. You’re absolutely terrified, because you don’t know how you’ll ever truly function again. Your identity and your reality are both shattered, because you can never truly be you again, all because you lost a little thing you’ve taken for granted for so long, and now you realize that your entire world functions on sight, and you no longer know who you even are, because if you can’t see to do the things you love, how will you ever do the things you love again? And if you can never again do the things you love, the things that make you who you are, then who exactly are you?
You don’t know the answer, and it’s killing you, because surely there’s some sense of normality left within you, and surely your world has more to be, more to do than simply wait until everything ends. People don’t stop living when they lose a limb, or lose their hearing, so surely they don’t when they lose their sight, right? Right. You know they don’t. You’ve read the books, and heard the legends. You’ve seen the movies, and listened to the testimonies, and you know how many of the stories are true. People go above and beyond, and nothing, not even darkness can stand in their way.
And you want to believe them. You want to believe you can do the same thing. That, in the end, everything will be alright, just as it should be, and being blind won’t be the end of the world. And yet, your mind still races. Your heartbeats are still so hard, so desperate to escape your chest, as you are to your newly found reality, and you’re pretty sure it’s the only anchor you have to sanity at the moment, because dear heavens you’re blind. What are you going to do now. How are you going to cope. You feel completely inferior to all the heroes in the stories, because they’re amazing, and you’re you. It feels like they could overcome anything, and you can’t even overcome your fear of spiders. (And while your mind wanders that direction, you suddenly realize you can never see a spider again. Which would be a blessing, if you didn’t have to constantly wonder if there was one near you or not, now. Since, you know, you can’t see them anymore.)
And you feel like your emotions are going to murder you if they don’t slow down, because you feel everything and nothing at once, and you just can’t decide if you feel depressed or afraid, or angry at the world. But one thing you know is that you feel absolutely alone, and you hate it, because all you want to do is see the world around you. You want to see the faces of the people who visit you, not just hear their voices, and feel their hands squeeze yours just a little too tightly. To see the test results for yourself, not just hear about them, or pretend to understand.
You want to see the damage done, not just remember it in a foggy blur of fading memories.
You don’t want to just remember.
Actually, you’d rather just forget.
I’d rather just forget.
I typically am not a huge fan of prologues before fiction (one of my favorite rules for writing is to "start as close to the end of your story as possible"), but you did a fairly nice job drawing the reader in. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the book. 
It's Sam.