Uma Bhat

United States of America

High School sophomore with a passion for journalism, content creation, politics, and all things Sherlock.

Message from Writer

Stalk me at www.landublog.wordpress.com (group) or https://unbelievablyuma.blogspot.com/ (personal) ;).
I am also an amateur journalist looking for any opportunity to ~write~.
Insta: @_umabhat

E U P H O R I A

June 20, 2018

PROMPT: Open Prompt

2
    Suddenly it was like the world had come to an end, crashing and crumbling while the only noise other than the maelstrom was my own violent screams as I fell into never-ending darkness — and then, it had suddenly revived itself to become the doorway to a sliver of coziness: a wooden room that allowed the sunlight to glaze inhabitants with warmth.
    A pale hand then made it’s way into my peripheral vision. Without a word, it clutched my hand and pulled me up to face its owner: a mysterious face, eerily familiar yet blurred and hazy in my memory. Long, cold fingertips brushed away locks of my cascading hair, and sunlight that had once been filtered hit my visage with full force.
    The room was silent except for the perpetual whirring of a rotating fan and the creak of the floors caused by any slight movement.
    “It seems like you had a nice break.” The voice penetrated the silence, melodious and lucid in nature. “I’m back. I won’t leave you here again, I promise.”
    I stood on numb legs as the switch for a radio flicked on and the voice’s speech turned into something more of a slow, pensive hum. The muffled sound of calming jazz filled the capacity. An easy smile slowly grew on their face.
    “It’s Koz.”
    “Huh?” my voice came out of somewhat of a whisper, diaphanous — much in contrast to my heavy thoughts, any recollection of the past under a thick shroud.
    “Oh please,” I was whisked into a twirl, my feet moving gracefully as if I had done the same dance thousands of times. “you love him, remember?"
    “Did you miss me?” I didn’t reply. I couldn’t remember. “I missed you a lot."
    Was I missing something?
    “You know, if I leave again, will you be okay without me here?”
    They pinched my cheeks.
     My heart thudded loudly, but it was as if they didn’t notice. Instead, we swept the floors with our light feet. Dust particles cavorted in the air, illuminated in the sunlight. Cerulean blue eyes gazed back into my mine — I had forgotten their color along with any feeling of normalcy. Loose strands of reminiscence were now ghosts, haunting me in this new world filled with incandescence and lightness.
    Everything was light. Even their blonde locks, their eyelashes, the aura they emitted, their touch, the feel of their lips as they brushed against mine longingly, arms firmly wrapped around my waist.
    It almost felt like I was trapped in a never-ending moment.
    And then I was knocked back into the downward spiral until my eyes fluttered to see silhouettes hovering over me.
    "I'm sorry." 

 
Something I wrote on the whim for a www.storybird.com competition (June). It's under my alias of "UB2" if you want to check it out there!

Print

See History

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

1 Comment
  • Johanna

    CLIFF HANGER! Will there be another one? ;) Beautiful piece


    about 1 year ago