United Kingdom

Hi! I'm Lilly and I love writing and talking to people about their or my work! I also like pancakes, rain and reading :) Any feedback is always appreciative on any of my work, I think my writing style varies quite a bit but I hope you enjoy it!

Message from Writer

To answer a common question I get my inspiration from observation of myself, other people and usually day dreaming :)

Office Man

July 30, 2017

PROMPT: Open Prompt

I entered the office. I sat down at my chair, hearing it squeak just the same as it always did. Surrounding me were the shelves, stacked with folders and files. I dumped my satchel, in the same spot, slurped from my coffee, from the same mug and checked the time, from the same clock. I reached the for the first folder with a thick wad of paper wedged inside and began.

Signing, checking, reading, editing.

I kept with the mind numbing task; fill out the form, check and edit, sign the bottom, sip coffee. Repeat, repeat, repeat. My focus drifted and a haze floated over my brain, my surroundings started to ripple. I shook my head and gripped my pen as I started to be pulled away. I stared at the dotted line just willing myself to put pen to paper. But even as I stared I could feel it happening, I could feel my will give way. 

I closed my eyes slowly and as they re-opened I saw the files and cabinets melt away into trees. The flickering electric lights changed to the natural light of the sun. The carpet soaked into the ground to become dirt and earth. I breathed in the fresh air, heard the rustle of leaves and felt a soft breeze. I tried to walk further but my feet wouldn't obey, I staggered as if intoxicated with nature. I heard a shout from myself, this wasn't real, get a grip.

Slowly the illusion soaked back into the office, I launched up from my chair and stumbled to the toilets. But still I saw trees and felt the wind. Yet the grey files and desks sat there too. Finally I made it through the fused realities to the toilets and gripped onto the edges of the sink, trying to concentrate on the harsh and cold metal, I stared into the mirror. The trees still flickering round me. I could see my bloodshot eyes, breath under my restricting tie, feel the sweat beads on my back under my shirt. I threw my clammy hand into my pocket, it enclosed round the foil sheet. Bringing it out I ripped two capsules and took two red pills. Scrunching the now empty packet, I breathed deeply as the trees finally faded away. The hum of the fan replaced the fresh air and chipped tiles grew over the dirt ground. Wiping the sweat from my forehead and loosening my tie I braved the walk out of the toilets. My head swimming with nausea with my brain aching I sat back down in my chair. A pulse thumped in my head, the letters of the documents swam about, trying to pull me away again but I could feel the red pill stopping it.

These pills prevented those...hallucinations and allowed me to concentrate but it would mean I would spend the rest of day throwing up and sweating. Everyday I tried to make it without but I knew I wouldn't be able to. If I didn't take them I would end up glassy eyed on the floor, wrapped up in my imagination of whatever it was that day. They cycled between the forest, a beach, a field, and an island. All of them offering peaceful freedom without danger or boredom. I couldn't explore and live there, it wasn't real, an infuriating form of mental torture. 

It happened when I was younger. I would I first just drift into thought, I could control it. But quickly it became out control, I would be found lost in my head and unable to function. All I had to do was stick on the medication and job to prove I was able to function as part of society. My only other option would be to be thrown into a psychiatric ward and monitored 24/7. I knew I had people watching me here, it was easy to work out who, people who took a little too much interest in how I was feeling and often try to get to know me without me knowing them. Like Sam, for example. Sam worked in the office too and for the most part we got on well. He would ask me almost everyday at the same time the same questions. I didn't catch on for an embarrassingly long time, assuming that perhaps someone in the world actually cared how I felt. But one time I caught on as I caught a glimpse of his screen and saw a diary, each day dated and then notes beneath. 

5th March-unproductive, seems distracted
12th March-unfocused
19th March-took medication, more focused

And so forth and so forth.

I was so shocked and yet frustrated with my own ignorant bliss, of course I couldn't have friends. Of course I had spies watching me. As this revelation settled on me I realized I couldn't even be bothered to stand up to him. What was the point? All it would achieve is that they would know that I knew I was still being observed. So now I ate my lunch in my office and avoided people at all costs. I'm sure they had cameras for surveillance anyway but I could at least ignore them.


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  • Lilly.VB

    Wow I've not logged in a while and just found these nice comments and peer reviews! Thank you all if you see this, I'll work on getting some more of this story out :)

    about 3 years ago
  • Olivia C

    I love where this is going! I'm really interested in who this guy is and why this is happening. Watch out for some typos and odd phrasing though. I can't wait to see more

    about 3 years ago