Hope
When
they remove the blindfold it takes me a moment before I realise I’m not losing
my eyesight. The instant I adjust to the foggy light I try to take a step back
but a solid presence behind me makes it impossible.
“You’re
not going anywhere but forwards.” The voice sounds as disembodied as it did the
first time I heard it, when they caught me.
The
rails on which the small cart in front of me sits are red from rust. I can’t
tell for sure because of the fog, but I’m certain some of the supporting
pillars have broken away from the structure or are about to crumble. The moment
the thought hits me I hear the scream, high pitched and filled with anguish and
despair. It doesn’t last long and silence descends again, leaving me to reflect
that I wasn’t the only one being brought here.
I
can’t believe I find myself in this position. I managed to avoid them for two
years. I moved around, never staying in one place for longer than the few hours
sleep I needed in order to keep going. I fought despair, refused to think about
failure and, toward the end, even allowed myself to hope I might make it.
“Get
in,” the voice orders.
I
study the small cart resting on the rails in front of me. It looks at least as
fragile and unreliable as the structure on which it sits.
“Now!”
I’m
pushed forward and nearly fall. That would be the end of me. I’m not sure how
high up we are—I can’t see the ground—but I know I wouldn’t survive if I fell.
Then again, I don’t think I’m supposed to survive. Would falling be worse than
following the orders?
While
I sit down I reflect that once upon a time these structures were a source of
terrifying fun. I don’t know where we are but it’s possible that I’ve been here
before. I may have made this trip before, with my father, his arms around me as
we sped up and down the rails in safety. There’s no father for me today, no
strong arms, and I don’t think there’s a safe destination either. They came.
They took over. They’ve been hunting us. I don’t know their purpose. I only
know I’ve never seen anybody again, after they’d been taken.
I
thought I might survive. Towards the end I believed I might make it to safety.
My heart grew lighter, despair turning into optimism and then they were upon
me.
“Want
to know how we found you?” the voice asks.
I
say nothing, but it makes no difference.
“Hope
always shines bright in the middle of dark despair.”
A
hard shove and the cart starts to move, slow at first and then gathering speed.
I close my eyes and allow hope to die.
****
480
words
As
always, more stories based on the same image can be found in the Monday Flash
Fics Group on Facebook.
I really loved this, Helena and I think it would be fantastic to read more.
ReplyDeleteThank you. If I do write more, it won't be any time soon. But it is not impossible.
DeleteWell written, but, yes, very dark and obscure. Love seeing what everyone does with these pics that aren't as obvious a storyline as the others.
ReplyDeleteThank you. And that's what l like best about this whole flash fiction thing: I end up writing stories I would otherwise never have tried my hand at.
Delete