Chatterbox: Inkwell

Far away, in the remotest reaches of a forgotten land, broken by time and wracked by tragedies long since consigned to oblivion, the nameless girl awoke in tears. Great, heavy tears, that only can accompany heartbreak and complete dispair. Wrenching sobs, heavy and deep as a blackpool. This, of course, was impossible to a being as empty on the inside as the out. What empty creature weeps? Soulless as a stone, the girl’s tears came unbidden, to roll down her cheeks, like great drops of rain. Sometimes there are tears that are uncriable, because to cry them out would be to admit that you are sad, that you are hurt, that you are so lost that thoughts cannot align themselves in your head, like disjointed constellations. When your heart is gone, lost inside you as a dark hole, sucking you into its depths. But the tears were stopped for a reason, and she was hurt, she was lost, she was gone. And such were her tears. But this forgotten tragedy moved what was little more than a beast, for a few moments bringing back the sheer joy and pain of humanity to a broken nameless girl. Tears are a gateway. A gateway from the sorrow of sleep to the pain of wakefulness. But in them, there is victory. 
Continue....  
submitted by Fire Eyes Phoenix
(July 14, 2014 - 9:59 am)

Greta awoke from her vision.

BANG!!! Her adopted brother, Míkël, had just smashed the window. Again. And she was furious.

"Míkël!" she shouted, running upstairs and entering his room. But he wasn't there. Outside the window there was a robin perched on a branch, holding a green feather.

She stuck her head out the window and looked down. Míkël was lying in the grass, dead.

No, she thought desperately, No no no no no!!!

And then she slipped into the vision again.

The nameless girl stands and turns. She, all that is left of the universe, stands tall and glares at the oblivion with great distaste.

But... wait. There is more.

A star glows in the black, and then... it explodes. A million more stars are created from its destruction, and several little stars clump up and form bigger celestial bodies.

And a handsome boy walks up behind her and taps her on the shoulder, saying, "Hey beautiful, you still here?"

No wait. That last bit wasn't part of the vision.

"Greta! Wake up!"

It was her boyfriend, Chad. He was shaking her awake.

Right. She was on a date with Chad and they had gone over to his house after lunch. They'd gotten tired and she'd fallen asleep...

So it had been a dream.

She stretched and stood up.

submitted by Joe the Stickfiddler, age 15, Forgotten Vortex
(July 14, 2014 - 11:00 am)

MY NAME IS GOOP AND I HAIL TO THE CHATTERBOX FROM GOOPWORLD!!!

submitted by GOOP, age GOOPED AGE, GOOPWORLD
(July 14, 2014 - 12:19 pm)

Lovely to know, Monsieur....um... Goop. But in my experience, you cannot hail from two places? Perhaps I am wrong... However, continue.

submitted by Fire Eyes Phoenix
(July 14, 2014 - 1:30 pm)

Why don't YOU continue?

submitted by Joe the Stickfiddler, age 15, Continue Vortex
(July 14, 2014 - 2:42 pm)

Perhaps I will.

AHEM!

Greta reached for her shirt, only to find it had vanished from the chair. And slowly, the chair dissolved as well, crumbling and dispersing the way that dust is blown away in a hurricane, scattering to the edges of the earth, spilling between the cracks of a broken universe and into the next. Greta turned, but the scene around her had changed. She had changed. Her mind felt like all memory of normalacy was draining out, spilling away into nothingness. Chad, her brother, even the Robin vanished from her recollection as her life was erased from her very soul. Or was it her soul? Had oblivion bent, for a time, kissing another universe so that she could exist between? But the nameless girl was once called Greta became an animal once more. The forest was her home. As far back as she could remember,  its leafy boughs had stretched high above her, showering her in golden-green light and rustling in the slightest breeze. She was sure it had not been this way forever, that she had not been here forever, but as she could not remember a time before it, she felt no need to question her origins. She was here now, lost in an eternal oblivion. What was the point of considering her past or future? Both were hidden from her, slowly dropping off into the darkest abysses of her mind where no light had ever shone through. She did not consider herself ignorant, she only assumed she knew of all things worth knowing. After all, her only concerns were her daily food and shelter from the torrential nightly rains that kept everything in the forest constantly damp, constantly green. Maybe she did not live. But she did exist, she did survive, alive and alone in the green of the forest.

Living as an animal, she wandered aimlessly, seeking something she could not remember nor cared to find. She had no worry, no fear, no craving of friendship. What had she to worry about? What had she to fear? What had she to need? To her, she was but another of the strange beasts she occasionally ventured across: birds of unusual size, rats that scuttled along the in the shadows of fallen trees or near the stench of a rotting carcas, and brightly coated insects with strange legs and bizarre-looking mouths. Her blank canvas of a mind seemed to shirk under the weight of any thought, however deep, and all conceivings were quickly pushed from her mind. Her life became a page without writing, a story without words. Instinct began to control even the most complex actions of life, and slowly she became yet another creature, surviving, but beyond all hope of life. Nothing mattered, what would matter? Bathed in a the golden green light of a forgotten world, she lost humanity, slipping away like a breeze carrying a stray feather from the grassy banks. 

 

Your turn. 

 

 

submitted by Fire Eyes Phoenix
(July 14, 2014 - 3:21 pm)

How about someone else's turn???

submitted by Joe the Stickfiddler, age 15, Someone Else Vortex
(July 14, 2014 - 6:53 pm)

Take another turn, JtS. I haven't the time to write this story at the moment.

submitted by Dr. Pseudonymous, age pseudonym?, Land of Pseudonyms
(July 14, 2014 - 8:04 pm)

By the way he is hailing TO Chatterbox FROM The Goopworld so it is completely possible. Just sayin'.

submitted by Dr. Pseudonymous, age please!, Land of Pseudonyms
(July 14, 2014 - 8:02 pm)

While in the forest, looking for sprites, food, a better shelter, and the like, she came upon a small fire. Except it wasn't really burning anything at all. She passed nearly passed by it on her way to check some snares she had made with the oddly papery leaves of a bush nearby. She stopped short. Then her memory of the strange visions and of her brother, and Chad suddenly appeared in her mind. Her old self seemed to be returning. Instinctively, she backed away from the fire, but her mind pulled her forward. She laughed for the first time in what seemed like years. It was a joyous sound, much like the bells of the old church she lused to live near. She remembered all the fun times she'd had, all her friends and their rather dumb inside jokes, her parents, and the books they read to her and her brother, and her dear pet fish who could swim through a hoop on command. But then, the fire went out. Confused,, she went on her way to check the traps, all the while trying to bring back those memories.

 

Can't write more.

submitted by Magic Dragon, age hrrr, Land of Pseudonyms
(July 14, 2014 - 8:25 pm)

This sounds so creepy yet cool.

Yes, I'm a Victorian and proud of it.

 

Thank you, Everinne. I agree.

Admin

submitted by Everinne, age 15, Creepyville
(July 15, 2014 - 7:43 pm)