Heal

Genre: Psychological, Dark

 

Heal

 

Am I healing?

 

What’s taken place, and what has been. What is no more, what no longer is.

What will be – I do not know.

The climb has been steady, with pitfalls and highs along its way.

The trajectory points up and forward, despite it being impossible to see.

The highs get higher, the laughter gets louder. On the flipside though, and there is a big one, the lows are much lower.

It’s no wonder each day I am comatose. I can’t take the stimulation of the highs as much as I’m unable to take the desperation of the lows.

If there is a middle road, I’m yet to walk it.

Pain is there, as I journey through hell. I’m traversing it, on it I’m balancing, and I’m holding my breath. Because at any time, I might fall.

 

So. Am I healing?

 

Things could be how they were. When I had no one, when nothing was all I did have. Hard work has made it better, although the lows contradict and tell me otherwise.

But I’m still here, so I carry on. Climbing, breathing and surviving.

One day I may be okay, one day I may heal. And Until that day comes, despite my tortured soul, I’ll hold on and hang on to the what that may well be:

I am free.

 

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DailyPost Prompt – ‘Heal’. Click here to view

 

There’s Light in Darkness; I Think.

Hello! Um, I think I need to issue a warning on this piece. It is very dark. Suicide, death and dying is in it yet has some hope thrown in too. So, It’s entirely up to you if you want to go ahead and read it 🙂

This photo prompt is provided by FFFAW and you can find the weekly prompt challenge here 🙂

 

Genres: Dark/Disturbing, Tragedy & Psychological

 

 

The darkness and desolation mirror my soul: hopeless, fearful and alone. But, a light keeps moving me forward even though I wish it would dim. I truly want to die but I also want to live. The ambivalence drives me insane. Why can’t I decide once and for all one way or the other? My friend says to me “don’t do it” and I think great, I chose death and now he’s stolen the moment: I hate it when he says something to stop me. Why can’t I just go?

But, however dark I feel, how void of hope I am, that light always remains, illuminating a small spot within me. In the end, I hope I’ll find meaning from my pain and the struggles I’ve had. And If I do and if I can do good, then my life will have been worth it and I’ll have finally found my peace – that’s the plan, anyway.

 

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No Bad Deeds go Unpunished

Genre: Horror-esque

 
Thomas Baker was indeed one of the world’s pessimists. A gaunt fellow in need of some food, clean clothes and a mighty good shave. And a dose of luck. Through a series of misfortunes, Tom Baker had lost everything: his wife, house, job, car and children. Who could blame him for his lack of optimism. I don’t. But the day was coming when his run of bad luck would all change.

In the busy shopping town of Newquey, Tom found his regular spot between a supermarket and a department store. Making himself comfortable – as comfortable as one can be sitting on a concrete floor – he began his desperate mantra to the shoppers: “Please spare me some change, please?”.

A few hours later, with little more than £1.50, Tom was despondent, depressed and dejected. Just as he was about to get up with his measly pennies a voice brought him out of his stupor. He looked up to find an elderly, kind face looking down at him. The man was dressed almost like a Priest, Tom thought. The man had Tom’s attention. And began to share a Secret with him.

Tom wanted proof. Proof that what the man had told him was true. That he could get back everything he had lost, and more. All he had to do was go to some Church situated behind some bend on some avenue somewhere up the road and pray at its altar. Tom thought he knew this town: he’d never seen this Church nor got the scoop from anyone else that it existed. But, Tom had nothing to lose and so began to follow the priests directions on the scrap of paper in his hand. 

Reaching the location, there was indeed a Church and Tom wondered how he’d never seen it before. Okay it’s obscured and a little small, but surely he would have heard of it. Shrugging, he pushes the door open and enters.

Now, The kind Priest is in fact a collector. He takes souls from those who have done wrong in their life. And Tom had done plenty wrong.

He cheated on his Wife, continually. Set fire to his house for an insurance payout, incinerating the dogs in the process. Assaulted his boss causing internal bleeding, a head trauma and broken ribs (and, naturally, was sacked). Crashed his car deliberately for insurance money and severely injured an elderly couple . And he ignored his children their whole young lives. The circumstances he is now in was all of his own doing. And deserves no pity.

He was approaching the altar and getting ready to pray, when the priest stepped out from, to Tom, what seemed like nowhere. “I need you to sign this before you pray”, the Priest told him. Tom signed, not even reading it. He just wanted to get on with getting his life back regardless of the detriment it would cause his family especially. He simply didn’t care.

Folding the papers into his pocket, the Priest mumbled a few words then clapped his hands once.

Tom immediately found himself in his bed, in his home, laying next to his wife. It worked, he thought excitedly, it bloody worked! Hang on, this feels real, he said to himself now thinking it was a bad dream he just had.

But the house? Why is it still standing? Why are the dogs alive and growling at me? Why is my boss also in the bed cuddling my wife? Why are the children just standing there wielding knives? He didn’t understand.

Then his wife stirred. “Hello Dear. Guess what? This is where your real nightmare begins. Welcome to your very own personal Hell and kissed his cheek. Then she and the others turned into The Black Demons – from Hell.

 

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Hello! 🙂 I am soooo glad to have got this story written. I nearly quit when the brain-fog began to enter. It was great to finally finish it.

The Prompt is from a newly found Weekly Writing Challenge I discovered over at Jennifer Kiley’s ‘Secret Keeper’ blog. Click here to check it out. 5 words are given each Monday to weave any type of Poem or Flash piece. The 5 words for this week (#56) are -Proof-Share-Secret-Bend-Scoop. And here is the posts direct link.

And, as always, Thank you very much for reading and come back again soon! 🙂

A Ruthless Race 

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photo source

A Ruthless Race

Don’t you know that we watch you?

Your buildings, museums, cathedrals, pillars, posts; we are part of them; spying, observing, looking… judging.

We’ve watched you millennia after millennia, and do you know what we see? A pathetic race of beings that only seem to be evolving to themselves when in fact you are as barbaric as the day you were formed.

You have not changed.

War, famine, hunger, poverty / Abundance, opulence, possessions, wealth. Half your world is starving and the rest complain that their steaks aren’t cooked right. Many have no clean water to drink yet many have lavish fountains in their squares, hotels, gardens and spa’s.

We are judging, we are deciding what to do with mankind and our decision will be final. Life, as you have believed, is not in your hands, It is in ours. And I strongly suggest you wake up, open your eyes and see. For it is your blindness that will ultimately be the demise of what it is to be human.

And that day is coming.

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This piccy prompt is from Angela Goff’s weekly ‘VisDare’. The photo’s are super freaky and super awesome! Visit VisDare by Clicking Here

Devil’s Flip Side

Genre: Seriously Miserable!

 

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Devil’s Flip Side

 

The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode; because literally it is the home of the Devil, just not the way that we know it.

Most people think that if you are bad in your current life then you have a passage straight to hell: In fact, the opposite is true. If you have done good most of your life, on death you’re soul comes here – to be taught how to be bad for when you return in another body: Bad will be all what you know and all that you do.

In this world it is better to be bad… and if you’re not, you are going to learn how to be bad anyway.

So, that sinister thought you’ve had mulling around for so long? Go ahead and do it. Because one day you’re going to meet the Devil…. And when you do, you’ll be looking at your own reflection regardless.

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Hi guys… another installment for ‘Mondays Finish the Story’… Click here to be taken to the page to read others’ stories or click on the blue froggy button!

“Run, My Child”

Genre: Freaky, Disturbing, Dark

 

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photo source

“Run, My Child”

 

“We’ve trained you well, my little apprentice, and now it’s time for you to go”.

Ben was afraid; the people in the masks were all who he knew. 12 years ago, while his father was paying for fuel at a gas station, 3 of the masked men snatched him and took hm away: He was just 2.

The men in the masks became his family and they raised him. And in all that time, he never once saw their faces.

Daily they would train him until exhaustion made him drop: Running, combat, judo, gymnastics, swimming, karate. His mind taught to survive interrogation, toughened to survive torture. This he had all learned, and it was now his time to leave.

His Master took him out to the woods to say goodbye.

But, what Ben didn’t realize was that this training, this endurance, wasn’t for him to survive in the world – it was to survive them.

Ben was their prey – and, shortly after the goodbye, the hunt would begin.

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A late VisDare (here), but this photo blew me away when I saw it and it just had to become a story.

‘Visual Dare’ is on every Wednesday and if you click here, you’ll be directed over to Angela’s VisDare page for more info 🙂

‘Daddy, Please Don’t’

(folks, this may be a trigger for some. read wisely)

Genre: Tragedy, Psychological, Dark.

 

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photo source

‘Daddy, Please Don’t’

 

Every day I see mommy crying. ‘Don’t cry mommy, please don’t cry’, and she wipes her tears while she is holding me close to her.

Daddy comes home and mommy always tells me, really quietly, to ‘be a good boy now, Daddy’s home and I need you to go to your room and stay there okay? go, go on’.

Daddy is shouting at mommy again. I see through my opened door my mommy on the floor crying: She has a bloody face again.

Daddy see’s me and yells, ‘get over here you little bastard. see? see what you made me do? you little shit’. mommy is begging him to stop, but it’s too late. Daddy hits me across my face and it hurts. But I won’t cry.

Daddy hits me again. Then he leaves, slamming the front door.

I crawl over to my mommy and we both sit huddled, and cry.

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VisDare 108: Voice. Visit Angela’s site here for weekly story prompts.