Reddit Writing Prompt

Ideas from reddit.com/r/writingprompts

http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/27r178/wp_you_are_flicking_through_channels_bored_on/

“There is never anything good to watch this time of night”, I muttered under my breath. “Just kill me now…” Heh, sarcastic bastard. I hate this time of night, when the rest of the world is asleep and I am awake, as usual. This was the third night in a row when that bitch called slumber stood me up, so here’s to another night watching trash TV with my cheap beer and my wholesome microwave dinner. Yum!

Making my fourth or fifth cycle through the channels, I was really starting to get frustrated; reruns of I love Lucy… pass. Some b.s. about puppies… definitely not. A god-awful cheesy alien movie… dammit, its already half way through! Some fatass just looking at a screen in his living-room… pass. History Channel… fun. I swear, if  I see one more world war 2 documentary-

“What?”  I flipped back to the channel of the man watching TV, and… no. There is no way. How the hell am I on TV. I frantically waved my arms around but my image just sat there, watching the screen, un-moving. I looked closer and could see his…. MY body moving as I was breathing. This had to be prerecorded. I looked to my right to where the camera would have been, but there was nothing there except a blank wall… not even a window where a camera could be.

How does this make sense? He… or I… or whoever the hell that guy was was wearing the exact same thing I was. The same carcass of a TV dinner on the table, and even the same beer can by the TV that I threw at it not more than 5 minutes ago. I would have said that someone was playing a prank on me, except my lack of any social activity left that as a resounding no. Then I saw it. Something black and tall, and vaguely man-like in shape standing behind the man. Behind ME! It was slowing moving from one side of the room to the other. I don’t know why, but I could almost feel the malevolence pouring off whatever that thing was. As it slipped into the shadows, he must have heard it because he turned around with a start… I wanted to yell at him! Its right there in the shadows man!!! But after a few moments he faced towards the TV again and kept just watching.

What in the world was going on! There had to be some rational explanation to what I was watching, but the emotions that it was conjuring were clouding my thoughts. Then, the floorboards behind me creaked. Someone was in here with me… oh God… or something!

I quickly looked behind me, my instincts preparing me haul ass out of there if I saw anything, but the room was empty. I eyed the shadows  an extra moment out of sheer paranoia, but I saw nothing. Man, I needed to get some sleep. When I looked back to the TV, the man was still sitting there but now the dark man-thing was standing right behind him. I nearly yelped out of surprise.

Get up, run, get out of there, hit him, SOMETHING! Don't just stand there. Then the thing reached out its dark arms and slowly wrapped creepy long fingers around the man’s neck, but he didn't move. GET OUT OF THERE FOOL! CANT YOU FEEL HIM TOUCHING YOU! Then the man slumped down, and the screen went to static.

What the hell did I just watch? This isn’t  funny anymore. The last thing I need right now is-

And then something cold slowly started to wrap around my neck. My mind was screaming at me to run but I couldn’t move. This wasn’t real. There is no way this could actually be happening. I just needed sleep. I was starting to hallucinate or something. There is now way…. then….. static.

I walked.

I walked. That was the only thing I could do. Nothing else mattered. Not the taste of blood in my mouth or the shards of glass protruding from my arms. Not even the screams. Oh God, those screams... they rang so loud that I thought my ears would burst. But I just kept walking.

I walked through the realization that it was in fact my throat that was calling forth this banshee's wail.
I walked through the realization that I would never see my family again.
I walked through the realization that it was my fault.

I walked. That was the only thing I could do, until I couldn't even do that anymore. The blackness was closing in, and this pressure in my chest would not let up. Not through though the blood now spilling forth from my lungs, nor the sparkling snowflakes that began to swim on the edge of my vision.

I fell. That was the only thing I could do. I wanted to cry, to deny, to defy God and this weak body that he had bestowed upon me, and more than anything else, my foolishness.

I fell through a million thoughts and memories, knowing they would soon be removed.
I fell into an increasingly ironic realization of the fragility and fleeting nature of life.
I fell silent, wondering what would come.

I laid there. That was the only thing I could do. My hand desperately trying to remain tight around the metal that bore into my chest. The sweet cold that spread from it like tendrils of ice, a chilling cancer that infected my being. No longer crying out; not in rage, nor fear, nor mourning.

I released. That was the only thing I could do. The feeling of the seams bursting, and my soul no longer being contained in this body. I could see the crumpled heap of car behind my now still body; the crimson trail staining my victory march into the pavement; the stoplight above shining a spotlight onto my final act. And the brilliant light, beautiful and terrifying, past it all, through the edges of reality, calling me forth with its sweet voice of angels.

I walked. That was the only thing I could do.