A Cry For Help
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Katriel Freudigmann
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Short Story
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2018
Sometimes I hear things. Sometimes they’re loud, loud noises, but then they end suddenly. Sometimes it’s a voice, speaking to me, telling me things. Sometimes I feel pressure and I kick my legs out. Then there’s more pressure, in different places. Sometimes there’s a rhythm to the noise, and it’s very pretty. The voices have different tones, too. It’s very weird. I can’t wait to see what it’s like. Will it be pretty? Will it be scary? I don’t know. All I know is that I can hear things, and I’m in a very small place with barely any room for me to move. And it’s dark, but I can’t open my eyes.
We’re moving right now. But it’s not what’s called ‘walking’. I think… I think we must be in a car. I have never seen one. I’ve just heard the voices. Something, a voice, is very worried. There’s another voice here, too. They’re both worried. Why?
We’re moving again, but this time back and forth, quickly. Now we’re lying down. I don’t know what’s happening. Now we’re sitting up. We lurch forward.
I hear, “Come on. You don’t want it anyway. And it’s your choice. No one’s making you do this.”
There’s a murmur. A quiet murmur.
I feel something. Somehow there’s more darkness than before. And it hurts. Oh! It hurts! What’s happening? Please do something! I-I don’t know what this is! My space is getting smaller. No! No, please, please, I don’t want to go. I’m sorry, for whatever I did. I’m sorry. I don’t want to go! No! Somebody, help! Please!
I can’t feel anything anymore. I don’t know what’s happening. I’m going away. Someone is crying. I’m going away. Where am I going?
There's more darkness.
Please. Help.