(This story is presented by me, Erix Summerdown.)
Next Page: Remember
First came a sound, the first sound, a distant gurgle.
It rumbles like thunder, getting closer and louder with each second, more defined
with each second after. The noise is stressful, frightening. Unsure why, the escalating
sound just is horrible, disturbing. What is this wave sound breaking the quiet?
Hearing is becoming loud.
Then light, a spark shows the world dull and unfocused. The light changes its color,
one, then two, more. Many colors at once, drifting together and apart. Becoming something.
They are incredible, divine maybe. These colors are the world, somehow, becoming brighter
and more detailed. What is this world? What was the long quiet before?
Seeing this world is blinding.
Hearing it is defening.
A rush of air, first breath, first touch. Feeling is shocking - this isn't anything
like the first senses. Nerves spring to life and it is painful, agonizing. Seeing is blurred.
Hearing muffles. Each synapse is burning, each touch is electric. This world burns every
cell, every muscle.
Existing is exilerating. Existing is agony.
A voice cries in anguish. Mine? The voice catches, wavers. The world returns into blurry
unfocus, narrowing into a small tunnel. Then the waves of sensation crash Sight is sudden,
bright and perfect. Hearing is a boom, a thunderclap, ears popping at the sound. Feeling is
cooled, softened, used to the bright loud world. Breath comes naturally. Existing is simple,
not as burdensome as it seemed. The thunder, the spark, the shock, is quickly forgotten.
The light dims. The sound eases. The feeling relaxes. Existing becomes living. Living
is easy.
Life has begun again.
Next Page: Remember
First came a sound, the first sound, a distant gurgle.
It rumbles like thunder, getting closer and louder with each second, more defined
with each second after. The noise is stressful, frightening. Unsure why, the escalating
sound just is horrible, disturbing. What is this wave sound breaking the quiet?
Hearing is becoming loud.
Then light, a spark shows the world dull and unfocused. The light changes its color,
one, then two, more. Many colors at once, drifting together and apart. Becoming something.
They are incredible, divine maybe. These colors are the world, somehow, becoming brighter
and more detailed. What is this world? What was the long quiet before?
Seeing this world is blinding.
Hearing it is defening.
A rush of air, first breath, first touch. Feeling is shocking - this isn't anything
like the first senses. Nerves spring to life and it is painful, agonizing. Seeing is blurred.
Hearing muffles. Each synapse is burning, each touch is electric. This world burns every
cell, every muscle.
Existing is exilerating. Existing is agony.
A voice cries in anguish. Mine? The voice catches, wavers. The world returns into blurry
unfocus, narrowing into a small tunnel. Then the waves of sensation crash Sight is sudden,
bright and perfect. Hearing is a boom, a thunderclap, ears popping at the sound. Feeling is
cooled, softened, used to the bright loud world. Breath comes naturally. Existing is simple,
not as burdensome as it seemed. The thunder, the spark, the shock, is quickly forgotten.
The light dims. The sound eases. The feeling relaxes. Existing becomes living. Living
is easy.
Life has begun again.
