Call On Me (Wednesday Words 1.4.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a photo prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

For your own experience, if you’d like to hear the song that helped fuel this response, click here. I do not own the song.

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Call On Me

Pebbles crunch underfoot as I trudge down this desolate path of life with a heavy heart, seeing only bleakness in place of new beginnings. My vision is blurred by salty mist. The serene silence of nature surrounding me is roaring in my ears, screaming a reminder of loneliness that won’t leave my bones. It suffocates me, crushing the air out of my lungs, squeezing my heart in a vice grip.

But I cannot scream no matter how badly I wish to.

My lip may tremble and the tears may stain my cheeks quietly, but no sound leaves my tattered and scarred body. Though I jerk and shudder under the agonizing pain, I utter not a syllable. The shreds of light that fought so long and so hard to stay flickering inside me are dying out one by one. The darkness is spreading further, faster and deeper as it threatens to drown me in its despair.

Why?

Why is all I ask.

Why me? Why am I always the one forgotten? Why am I always the one left behind or cast aside? Why do I never seem to matter?

My heart is slowly dying under the weight. A tainted mind is spinning at the endless, degrading, negative responses to those internal questions screaming away inside the confines of chaos in my head. They are cruel beasts. Monsters as mean and as sharp as wicked-edged daggers that cut deeper than any blade ever could.

Am I needy? Am I too much to handle? Am I a bad friend? Am I cursed to be an attraction for never-ending pain and suffering? Is there something wrong with me? Do I scare them all off because of the darkness that lies within me?

Is it all because of me? Is it something I’m doing?

For that is the only conclusion I have ever come about. I am the only factor in all scenarios, in every situation where history has repeated. Me. I am always the only repeating factor for the nail being driven through a cracked, fragile heart that had been broken too many times.

That means it must be me, right?

Like flies they’ve come and gone.

At first the fear of rejection and of the cycle repeating holds me at bay, keeps my heart and hope locked away behind layers upon layers of steel bars. But then they wear down each carefully constructed layer with hours upon hours of gentle lock picking until the gates swing open a fraction at a time. Before I can even slam the last lonely gate shut again it is too late, for I have realized I have once more laid myself out for crucifixion all over again. I am too exposed and I must be careful, but even the most experienced egg shell walkers slip up now and then. Until now and then becomes quite often, and quite often becomes no longer caring to crush the egg shells.

Like you never thought you’d do again, you find yourself hoping, and you find yourself remotely happy because you’re laughing, you’re having a good time, and you found someone again who will listen and not walk away no matter how bad the skeletons in your closet are. You find yourself hoping that this time you won’t scare them away when they see your depth. The spots of light inside you are growing and snuffing out the never-ending darkness finally.

Then everything crashes.

In a matter of a moment all that progress and hope comes crashing and shattering like a broken mirror at your feet. The reflection of happiness you saw in its shards has crumbled away, leaving the real monstrous image lying underneath. It’s mocking your happy image with frazzled hair and maddened eyes full of years of pain, cackling and laughing as it points its finger at your bleeding heart, at the scars lining your arms you suddenly find being sliced back open. It’s the dark, desolate side of you that had been lurking and waiting to come back out, because deep in your mind you knew it would happen.

It always happens.

“It’s not the end of the world.”

“You’ll still see them.”

“It’s not going to change anything between us.”

Lies. Lies. LIES!

You know it’s all lies. Those words have been uttered too many times and promises broken too often to ever believe such fallacy again. You know that’s how it always starts. It creeps along bit by bit until the friend you made scarcely talks to you anymore because they’re too busy or they’ve made new friends on their adventures. The snake with venomous fangs slithers closer and closer until the day it strikes and releases the truth inside you that screeches your miniscule hope you couldn’t bear to let go to a jarring halt. It poisons you with whispers that you no longer recognize them as you used to.

And suddenly that’s it.

“It’s not the end of the world.”

No… Perhaps it isn’t the end of the world, but it is the end of the world to you. It is the final drive of the nail into your heart, the final blow that leaves you shattered in a million sharp-edged pieces. Your expectations wane once more and you retreat to try to soften the pain.

The light in your mind fades until you find yourself standing back in the center of bleak darkness. The figures of every loved one and friend surround you, but every single one of them are fading farther and farther away out of your reach. And finally, the one who had been closest starts to fade into the darkness too until you can hardly see them. You reach out, try to grab their hand to pull them back, to beg on hands and knees not to leave you too, but then you stop halfway and pull back slowly with regret.

Why? Let me ask you why. Do you ever show the agony raging havoc inside you? Do you ever show the selfish need inside you to numb the pain before it destroys you again and again?

No… You don’t. Because that wouldn’t be fair to them, because you know better as a decent human being. The world does not revolve around you and you know that. So you let them go, you understand and you back off, no matter how badly it hurts inside to do so. Because that is what friends are supposed to do, they are supposed to support one another in what is best for each of them.

You would never expect someone to throw their life, full of potential and promise, on hold just for your own sake, would you?

Maybe you would, but I cannot. I’ve been down that road before on the opposite lane. I know what’s it like to give and give and give for another, until the key to your life lies in their hands and you have nothing left of yourself. I know what that’s like, I know how it can destroy a person. Mentally, emotionally, physically even.

Why would I ever be selfish enough to do that to another simply because I am hurting?

Like all cycles the wheel turns another round. The despair of winter gives way to the blooming trees of spring shielding you overhead down your path. You wonder if by some miracle this time will be different, but you know you cannot hope it will be. If you did, the cycle would just keep repeating and the pain would never stop. Deep down, you know it never will stop regardless. Sadness will threaten to drown you, loneliness will become the only friend you can waltz with in the dead of night so no one will see your tears. You will have nowhere left to turn again, because that’s how it always works.

All you have now are wisps of memories to cling to, no matter the ache they bring inside. All you have now is wishful thinking, and the same sense of abandonment to fill you up even though that is not truly the case of what happened and you know it.

But should you call on me, I will still be here to fall back on when everything is over. For maybe I care too much, maybe I care too deeply, but I will always still be here. Now I can only pray that should I call on you one day, you will still be there too.


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Shards of Imagination Cover Final

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