Fade to Grey
Tuesday 9th July, Story #191/366
The world has faded to grey. I drag myself to the bus each morning, listless. Hours tick by, marked by my fingers against the keyboard and papers rustling in my in-tray.
I'm an automaton. I respond to people when they speak to me, but I don't initiate. I am animated for a few moments, almost like a real human person, and then, right as they turn away, I go slack again.
I still feel guilty about the little girl, Hannah. I thought I was helping her, but I only made things worse. I barely notice the guilt anymore, though. It's just background radiation of my life, now. I wish I could apologise. explain. But for who? Her? Or me?
I sleep mundane sleep, now. I struggle to drift off, and can't hold myself in that sweet spot between waking and sleeping. I often don't know I'm dreaming, and rarely remember them.
She appears sometimes. Stares at me, cold and hard. Then she goes away and does who knows what? She's a kid. Maybe she dreams of having a pet mouse, or a mountain of sweeties. Maybe she torments someone else, like she did me. Has she worked it out yet, that they really suffer? They can really die? I missed my opportunity to teach her about it. Now she just stares, and turns away.
I barely feel the threads of the dreams around me anymore, I can't grip them or control them. It depresses me. Some days I've all but given up.
Tonight though, I feel like I should give it one more shot. How did I ever learn to control dreams in the first place? Practise. Trial and error.
Maybe tonight she won't appear. I'll just try to change something small about my appearance. I'll stay small and unassuming.
When I fall asleep, and slip into dreams, I'm shrouded in fear. I probably stink of it. I look just like I do in the waking world, and no amount of concentration would change that. I smooth the ground in front of me, turning it to sand. I try to dream a twig into my hands, but it's easier to just use my finger.
"Dear Hannah..."
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Word count excluding note: 366
Submitted on Tuesday 9th July
*Quick Author's Note*
First, and most importantly: thank you so much for reading my story! The ha'penny that Vocal will toss in my hat for your eyeballs landing on this humble piece will be well-spent.
If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!
A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one continues my 190 day streak since 1st January.
Please do consider lending your support to the other creators who are also on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They are putting out excellent content every day!
Rachel Deeming
Gerard DiLeo
Please do leave me a comment: I reciprocate as many as I can. Leaving a comment makes that easier.
The story behind the story: I aim to write these as standalone stories, but if you'd like to read the others in this series you can do that here.
Thank you!
Thank you again, most sincerely. Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed! 😁
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Comments (6)
This was amazing!! I keep forgetting to get to the rest of this series, good thing for the bookmark feature!! I'll just have to pop over and get those all tagged!! 😅 Keep up the great work and I'll work on catching up!!
I like this, I will read the rest of the series! Who is this Hannah I wonder’! This reminds me of a book by James Patterson called “Humans, Bow Down!”
Ooh I’m glad you’ve gone back to this series. One of my favourites.
Hi, L.C.! Life has been too busy lately for me to keep up as I used to, but I definitely enjoyed how you built the emotion and suspense in this story.
Oh! She returns! I love how you captured that feeling of loss and depression! Fantastic work, LC!
Wonderful building of the tension in the slack space of defeat.