Writing Prompt

Whilst the rest of the world was on fire, one little girl sat in a corner. She was around 12. No one saw exactly what she looked like though but she was wearing clothes with holes in them as if she had just been hurt.

She was calm whilst everyone else was screaming. They all knew the world was coming to an end. It was now inevitable. So why was this girl sitting there like she was protected?

The truth lay deep inside her.

The thing causing the end was the darkness and this little girl was the darkness. As long as light was weak, dark would end the world once and for all.

She would be safe, she felt safe around the darkness.

She heard people screaming in pain, she saw people hold onto their child’s for dear life whilst the darkness passed through the cities of Scotland. She saw it all from her little corner in Glasgow.

Everyone thought she was mad, that she would be killed. She knew otherwise.

The darkness was taking over, after years and years of trying it finally succeeded. There was only one thing that could stop it and they didn’t know.

It was a little boy, around four years old. He could sense at the time that the darkness was taking over. But deep down he knew he would survive. In the end only light and dark survive.

He felt uncomfortable, hungry and in pain quite the opposite to the girl. She felt comfort in the darkness. She knew no harm would be wrought upon her.

The little boy hid away, scared for way would happen next. She was pleased with this. He wouldn’t get in her way.

Soon the whole of America and Europe was burned down but they weren’t doe yet. They still had places to ruin.

The girl was finding it difficult. She soon realised there was only one way to solve the problem now.

The little boy saw her heading his way. He was fearful. He knew this was his end.

She grabbed him and took the knife of Light and Dark out of his pocket.

He held it all this time. The one and only weapon that could defeat either one of them.

He let out a scream.

It was so loud the whole world could hear it. What was left of the world anyways.

She stabbed him in the head, where all his power came from. A huge bolt of light cane out of his head and passed through the whole of the earth.

It was the last light that the earth would ever see.

Then soon after everything turned dark.

It was the beginning of the end.

The darkness wrapped itself around her like a whirlpool, her senses diminishing one by one. Soon, oblivion. She marvelled at the memories fleeting, flying by, everyone she qualified with the thought a smile, a frown, a laugh or a furrowed brow, until even the sensation of that left her. She wondered for a moment, considering the long tired pain her life had drawn into, how she only wished for rest, until that sensation left her too. There was no wanting in the dark.

She pondered on herself, on the experience of her being. A nervous feeling flashed in her withering conscience: what is left of me? What is left for those dear to me? For my loved ones? She began to imagine them, but the memories of them had gone, too bright for this place, and that nervous feeling melted uneasily but passively into shadow.

For who was she to rally against the void? The base darkness’s of creation enveloped her and she was beyond numb. Beyond weightless. Beyond us. For who even was she? That knowledge had all but left. A fleeting feeling. A moment in time. Language escaped her. Abstract concept boiled down. identity was null.

But there was still a hunger. Still comfort. Still warmth. Still pain.

No longer bond by the understanding of self, space and time, the experience that once was contemplated the vast eternity of night and cried out in terror, though it had no mouth to scream. How could it cry?

But it must.

It must scream to the heavens of this understanding, of this feeling. It must find a way to scream.

Eyes open. light shines through. The hum of life begins to fill the ears. A newborn wails a story it nor its parents will ever know, for it is a tale about darkness. And there is no understanding darkness for creatures blinded by the sensation of light.

That illusion was shattered. Exactly where her eyes were staring but not seeing, a fierce light burst into the room accompanied by a crash and shouting. Multiple flames slithered in, illuminating most of the room and revealing the Ones Who Caused Her Harm. They lined up, six of them, and one more pushed through that carried no source of light.

The Girl remained utterly still, not even blinking despite the harshness of the flickering fire on her eyes.

‘That’s my one, my favourite,’ the one without the flame said in words she did not understand, pointing at her. ‘You can have the others, but none touches her, ya hear?’

She knew who it was without even seeing his face, without even knowing what the words were that he said. She knew because she recognised his voice, because that voice had been particularly cruel to her.

He came over and unlocked her cage, tossed the key to one of the other guards who began unlocking the cages holding the other ones that were like her. He grabbed her by the arm, fingers digging into her, bruising her, dragging her out without needing to. She had accepted her fate long ago.

Struggling to her feet, him pulling her towards the door, not affording her a chance to stand up on legs that were stunted and weak, she wanted to cry out but lacked the willpower, lacked the strength in her chest to make any sounds. She wouldn’t even if she could, not if she wanted to be harmed more.

He strode through the door and out into a brightly lit room, up the same flight of stairs she had been dragged up so many times before. The skin on her feet tore against the sharp steps, leaving slithers of blood on them.

Into another room and this time he threw her into a table, winding her, and she couldn’t help but cry out. It was a guttural cry formed of no words because she knew no words.

‘Shut up, you pathetic little creature,’ the guard said, ‘You ain’t gunna make any noises. We ain’t supposed to be having you but he can go stick himself for all I care, if Janine can’t take me, I’ll just have to have you.’

A fist collided with her side, the air bursting out once again. This time the Girl kept her mouth shut. She had expected this to happen, had experienced it so many times before and she recognised the words he was saying. He’d talk whilst he was doing it, make sounds that were strange, grunts and exertions. The Girl could do nothing but let him have his way because somehow she knew that if she did not she would know harm much worse than she had ever felt before.

She didn’t know where she was, nor did she care. All she could think about was the knife on the table right in front of her. She reached out for it.