Echoes in the Deep

December 1st, 2024

I’m starting this journal, as it helped me before. I’m afraid to close my eyes these days. Whenever I do, it feels like I’m being dragged somewhere dark, somewhere I don’t want to be. It’s been years since I last woke up somewhere I didn’t remember going. I hoped I was done with this.

The Dust in my Veins

I never thought it would come to this–relying on something so small, so insidious, just to write. But the words have stopped. They used to flow, tumble from my mind onto the page in a rush of life and meaning. Now they’re barricaded somewhere beyond my reach.

Chasing Shadows

Charlie had always imagined outrunning his shadow. Today, for the first time, he did. Walking home, he dragged his feet along the cracked pavement, his backpack bouncing against his small frame. The sun hung low, casting his shadow unnaturally long behind him. Charlie quickened his pace, daring it to fall behind, ducking past corners as if the shadow would get stuck on it.

Her gaze holds a lost, desperate look, as if she's trapped, yearning to escape. She hums her song softly. It's always the same melody, and as she does, she seems to drift into a world all her own. I first saw her two weeks ago, and since then, she's been a constant—a ghost haunting the same train, sitting in that exact spot as if it's hers by right. Her eyes are fixed on the blur of the outside world, hypnotized by it, searching for something I can't see. When I board, she's already there. I leave, and she remains seated. As if she's fused to the train, inseparable.

Sasha’s hands trembled as she folded her letter, each crease a whisper of finality. She slipped it into the envelope, careful not to smudge the ink that sealed her fate. A single teardrop hung on her lash, poised to fall but ultimately spared the paper. Sealing it brought immense satisfaction. It wasn’t just closing an envelope; it was closing a chapter of her life. Finally, it was the right time.

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