Nothing made sense.

Her eyes ached - the more she studied them, the less the words made sense. The words weren't working, they weren't doing their duty, they were just shapes on the wall. They blurred out of focus - was she just tired, was it her eyes?

Or were the words willfully confusing her? Was it deliberate? A merry dance they were leading her on?

She traced them with her fingertips - that couldn't be right, they were letters carved into the stone, they couldn't shift (ink, she could accept, could flow, could shift, but these were stone words, inscription, stone didn't flow)

Lying on the bed, closing her eyes, hoping for sleep - no. That wasn't helping, that didn't do anything. She still saw the letters, the words shifting on the walls, but this time there were eyes there, and there were teeth. The words had teeth, and they had every intention of savaging her.

Wherver she went, wherever she lay her head - the words followed, the walls followed her, trapping her in her own psyche, her nightmares haunting her regardless.

Even padded walls had the words underneath, and she could feel them staring at her, taunting her.

That was the problem. You couldn't refuse to read words.

Words were mind control.

Are mind control.

(and words with teeth are worst of all)

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bespectakate (joined over 13 years ago)
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Ladygirl of a British persuasion; sometimes I actually write stories that aren't depressing (but not very often)

I write for the http://jupiter-palladium.com, which is a webcomic about superheroes. Interesting ones. Cute ones, too. Which is nice. (It's cheerier than most things I write. That's where the happy goes, guys.)

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Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

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Blank Prompt

Freeform prompt. Every Friday, writers face a blank page without any prompt. They write whatever they want in six minutes or less.
Prompt suggested by Galen

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