I was just sent a scary short story by a YouTube viewer of mine and it inspired me to do an impromptu creative writing session. Do I still have the chops since high school? Check this out:
A short story
By Chongchen Saelee
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. My laptop speakers simulated the antiquated sounds of a grandfather clock. I was timing myself with the digital timer. A standard computer screen draws at an average of 60 frames per second. It does so to give the illusion of smooth animation. At slower speeds, animations will seem to have a jerky movement. At faster speeds, and the graphics processor might have to work harder and overheat the entire hardware setup. Otherwise, faster speeds tend to give a more lifelike viewing experience. Out of sheer boredom, one day, I had stared so intensely into the laptop screen, that I could see every pixel draw one by one.
At first, I thought the laptop screen was malfunctioning. I reset the laptop by pressing Control, Alt, and Delete keys, but it rebooted with the same effect. Clearly, I thought, now I had to get a new laptop.
But just as I averted my eyes away from my laptop as I was powering it off, I could see the specks of paint on my wallpaper swarm together like a beehive onto the wall. I was frightened! What was happening to me? I closed my eyes and rubbed them viciously. I was panicking.
When I opened my eyes again, this time I saw pitch black. And slowly, I could see every photon come together as light, then wood, then paper, then paint, to finally form the wall in front of me. I looked down at my laptop, and it formed from particles of metal, into gears, into microchips and transistors, and then finally into a glowing “powering down…” LCD screen in front of me.
And then I looked at my hand. It wasn’t there at first. I’m sure I raised it in front of me. But it formed from white light. And I could see the skin cells form, the intricate network of blood vesicles, my finger bones, my muscles, and finally the detailed wrinkles in my palm print emerge, as though I had just witness condensation form on a leaf on a winter morning.
I was tripping. I was dreaming. I’m losing my mind!
I shot out from my chair and tried to find my footing because now the floor was absent. I was staring at blackness. I was afraid if I took a step I would fall into the abyss. I stood there in the same spot, spinning around slowly in my room, looking for a reference point, but the room didn’t spin because it was entirely dark.
And in the corner of my vision, I could see remnants of my room. It came into view in a vertical motion. Like strips being torn from a sheet of paper with a picture of a picket fence. The border was a hard line. A vertical column of dead pixels. I reached my hand to feel if the wall was still present. It was, but I couldn’t see it.
When I lifted my hand off the wall, it sent a ripple out across the wall. A bright ring of random rainbow colored pixels, much like that of an LCD screen. And once the ripples settled, the wall was black again. I punched the wall with frustration! But I only hurt my knuckles.
So I knew the world hadn’t physically disappeared around me, it only had escaped my sight. At the least, I was quite familiar with my way around my room, and the house. I could try to make a run for it if something sinister was going on. For example, if I was in the process of getting abducted by aliens and they had done this to me. They’d do that. Those silly aliens.
I felt my way through my room. And there was my trash bin. I couldn’t see it. There was my soccer trophy from high school. I couldn’t see it. And there was my box of Kleenex and Vaseline for… recreation. But I couldn’t see it. And finally, there was the door knob. I twisted the door knob and swung black nothingness open.
I hesitated for a split second, fearing if I took a step forward, I could step into an invisible brick wall. It would be quite humiliating, although if anyone was around to see it, I wouldn’t be able to see them laughing at me… or whether or not they could see me either. But like most heroes in their own story of dilemma, I took a step forward. And I made it through the invisible door way.
And this was the easy part!
How was I going to go down the stairs?!
(to be continued… going to go to sleep now)
Part two can be read at:
http://blog.eastfist.com/2013/06/24/the-dark-silent-eye-an-impromptu-horror-short-story-part-2/
Tags: creative, essay, horror, imaginative, impromptu, scary, short, story, writing