_WAKE LUELLE! _

The voice dragged me from the depths of my sleep. I glanced outside to see the sun on the brim of rising. The husky voice again awoke me at this time. I shook my head and grabbed a blanket to drap over my cold body. Today I had to go to the neighboring village to buy seeds for Father, but I could tell a storm was brewing.

“If the storm is too violent, stay in Woodville,” Father said, giving me extra coins in case I had to stay in an inn.

I walked for about an hour, the songs of the birds dragging my dreamy feet to Woodville. I loved these walks; I could escape work for a day and enjoy the tranquil presence of nature. _LUELLE, DUCK! _ The voice caused me to suddenly bend down, the dirt covering my knees. Just as my head moved down, a razor sharp knife sliced the air where I once was.
I screamed and then ran. My feet dodged fallen branches and rocks as I ran away from a large man with a growling voice. I could hear him yelling for me, telling me I was payment. I didn’t try to understand him, I only focused on escaping. _GO NEAR THE ROCKS AND THEN JUMP DOWN THE HOLE! _ The husky voice was louder now and had an urgency in its tone. It sounded like a man, and he was anxious. I found a stack of rocks and ran for them, my feet brisk and light. A hole was open near it, but it plummeted down to darkness. Do I dare trust this voice? “You’ll be tasty, that’s for sure!” The large man shouted, edging closer and closer. I glanced at him, he was non-human, a vampire for sure, hunting me down for his next meal. Without a second thought I jumped down the hole, following the voice. I land in soft arms. My eyes are still closed when the voice again speaks, though, this time I can feel the breath of him, speaking in my ear, “You’re safe Luelle, but I fear you’ve only made Draven’s hunt more intense.” I opened my eyes to see a tall, familiar man. His golden blonde hair and forest green eyes brought tears to my eyes. It was Evan. I hugged him, and he laid a small kiss on my forehead. He had come back for me. “I’ll never leave you again, my love,” he spoke, setting me in my feet. “I heard your voice,” I said, smiling. “Once I heard Draven, the vampire king, wished to find you, I was too far to keep you safe, so I had to amplify my voice.” “Draven?” I questioned. Why would the vampire king wish for me? “Yes,” Evan started, “he found out your a descendant of the Forest Queen. He heard how your Father could grow the most powerful crops on earth, and he knew you’d hold special blood.” I gulped down my fear. I had Evan with me, no one would dare hurt me.

-Good Morning America- Today is the first time in months that we've looked up Staring at the ground Too preoccupied in our precious lives to look up and see around us Oblivious

-Good Morning America- Someone wake our Nation up tell us to look around take it all in What are you gonna do about it?

-Good Morning America- How long are you gonna wait? sit by watch watch as the scenes play what a strange movie to watch from afar

-Good Morning America-
It hasn't touched you yet Or that's what you believe It couldn't happen to us next Why interfere? Selfish

-Good Morning America- 1 2 3 hundred thousand million deaths that you could have changed

-WAKE UP AMERICA- This isn't a movie It's not gonna go away Its not far off in the distance Look around What will it take? How many? How Long?

Its almost too late

Wake up America

(DEMOS: unfinished prompts I will not be finishing)

Hey [beep], you awake? Don’t worry, I’m up. Even though I’m wading, Neck deep in this rut. I don’t know why You keep up this lie You know it’s false And it ruins my life You say you care, Then set me aflame With your name given Just to cause me pain.

[beep]? Yes, Sir. He’s present, he’s here Kept alive by your memory Made out of hate, I fear Why be me, I plea Just stop this lie Just let me be me Oh give over please Just let me be free

(End of demo 1, I will likely be post in a few of these every time I lose interest in a prompt. My auto saves have been full for months now and it’s time to empty it)

_“Riya, wake up” _

I hear the_ _reminder bounce around in the back of my head, though it is quickly drowned out by blare of the alarms, whining and wailing like raid sirens. I feel the heavy weight of grogginess and exhaustion fall on me as I swing my legs over the side of the stiff, rusty bed frame. But this is what I endure every day. Today is no exception, and I have learned not to expect there to be any. Only I remember when my birthday is, often celebrated by a day just as backbreaking and wearying as the one before it, only I feel the weight of how long I’ve been here a little bit more. Another year of my life gone to waste, and for what? No. Better not to question it all, because those who question things are the ones who never go home. The telltale, uniform thump of soldiers boots hitting the concrete floor is all that moves me to stand stiff as a board by my cell door, at attention, waiting for the routine search. The creaky bars are pulled aside as two guards step inside, turning up all of my quarters. Sheets are torn from the bed, the bed frame is flipped over, the sink pipe unscrewed and examine. They run their hands over the walls and floor, checking for loose tiles or stones. At least I am not being stripped down today, a humiliating check I have been accustomed to. Down the hall I hear a shout, then loud crashes and the clang of bars. The shot of a gun rings down the row of cells, causing them to shudder, and I have to resist the urge to cover my ears. Once before, they almost shot me for moving, and I will not be one to tempt fate. It does not take long before I see the body dragged along the white, tiled floor, a stain running along the path. I turn my gaze away, but not fast enough to recognize the face. Jolie, fifteen, who had arrived only a week ago, sentenced to five years of labour due to insufficient funds in her account when asked to pay rent. Some last half as long. Maybe it’s better she leave here this way. “Clean up your quarters, then report to your supervisor for your work,” the guard says as he leaves my cell. One of them pulls a wooden plate carved with the number four from the wall, replacing it with the number three. It reads, 193 days of sentence. I’m almost out of here, it feels. Just a few months and I can go. I try not to let the hope bubble in my chest, try and quell the rising anticipation as the plates are changed in the morning. It is getting harder though, and I worry it will only lead to disappointment. Still, how can one not feel elated at such a freeing thought. _I’m going home. Soon I will be home. _

_“Riya, wake up” _

It has been getting easier to drag my ass out of the bed in the mornings, even when my rest has also been getting shorter. At night I can hardly fall asleep. My mind buzzes with the imaginings of what it will be like to see my family again. My brother must have recently turned nineteen. He’ll be joining that airship academy he always dreamed of going. Maybe. I wonder if his hopes have changed since he was five. The memory of his face won’t be so fuzzy anymore, that’s for sure. I hope he has retained his dimples, his most charming feature. The alarm groans through the caverns, and I stand at my door as the searches are done. Two days ago, a boy came in to replace Jolie. He looked about seventeen, and he seems to still be alive. Every day I don’t here a gunshot, I feel relieved. He had a survivors look about him. A soldier changes my plates to read ‘101 days of sentence’. I have to bite my lips not to smile. We, my cell mates and I, are directed to our supervisor outside the entrance to the purification facility. We are each handed filtration masks and protective suits, though most are in poor condition from overuse. Still, we do not object. I do not object. I could not even think of what kind of set back that would have for me. And I am far too close. We enter the mining facility, and I can feel the heat blast over me even through the thick protective wear. My whole body seizes up, like it always does. I must remind myself that I am perfectly safe as long as I wear my suit, that the flames of the furnace are all the way in the other side of the mines. Sweat beads on my fore head as I am handed a pickaxe, and I swing my very hardest, funneling my newfound energy into my work. All I hear all day long is the constant sound of metal glancing off stone. CHINK! CHINK! CHINK!

“Riya, wake up!”

It is strange to hear your name shouted from both inside and outside of your head at once. The sensation causes me to stir, and I see a boy standing over my bed, steely eyes glinting in the dim light of the lanterns in the hallway. It’s the boy who stays in Jollie’s old cell. I haven’t even bothered to learn his name, though he clearly knows mine. He presses a finger to his lips as he sits down on the edge of my mattress. I notice my cell door sprung wide open, and can barely contain a gasp. “Do not be alarmed, Riya. I am Anive. The other prisoners and I are planning to escape soon. We want to give you the choice to come with us.” He says it like it is no choice at all, as if I have already said yes. It does not make it any harder for me to shake my head, though. I have only two weeks left of my sentence. It would be all kinds of foolish to agree to this. I am almost angry he asked, because coming into my cell means I may be at risk of association. His expression of excitement falls, his eyes less bright. “But why? This place is nothing but Hell? Don’t you want to be free?” His confusion is so genuine, and I can tell it’s because he doesn’t understand how long I’ve waited for that countdown to freedom to reach zero, and it’s nearly there, reading twenty only yesterday. He’s not been here three months, his sentence still reading in the thousands. A few hundred days on doesn’t seem like so much to him. I remember feeling that way. Not afraid, willing to throw my life away on a whim. “You don’t understand,” I say finally, because it is the best way to summarize it. “I’ve waited too long to get ten more years dropped on my head. You’re young enough not to care.” He looks like he’s about to argue, but then changes his mind. We sit in silence like that for a while. Then he speaks. “How did you get here?” I cringe, bad memories flooding my mind. All come with the scorching of flames and scars. I roll up my sleeve to reveal a well kept secret. “When I was nineteen, one of our neighbours were discovered to be conspiring against the government. They lit their house on fire in the middle of the night, and held back anyone who attempted to help them get out. I was not about to let that stop my stupidly noble younger self,” my voice is getting shaky and I must stop to compose myself. “I went in to help them escape. I nearly didn’t make it, hence my burns. I thought I’d be a hero, you know? I thought I’d done the right thing. But I was accused of assisting criminals. All of us ended up here, and they died last year from smoke poisoning in the mines. I didn’t save any lives that day. Better if I’d done nothing,” now I am truly in danger of crying. I turn my head away, not wanting to seem so vulnerable in front of him. We sit in silence for a while before he gets up and walks towards the door. Before he shuts it, he turns back to me and smiles. “You did do the right thing, no matter what they’d have you think. That’s pretty heroic,” he closes my cell and locks the door.

_“Riya, WAKE UP!” _

My whole body jolts upright. I shake off the voice, though I have started to wonder recently why it’s so loud, so persistent. But today I have no time for worries. Today is zero day. Today I get out. I make sure to straighten my sheets and pillow before standing perfectly still in front of the door. I force myself not to smile when the guard opens my cell, to laugh and jump with joy, like a child. I feel like a child. Then a guard enters my cell,, beginning the routine search. I feel my bubble pop. Is it not zero day? No, the guard out front it removing the pallets now. I almost ask what’s going on, but remember, almost too late that we’re are never to speak to anyone. That’s when I hear a metal clang behind me. “What’s this doing here?” The soldier asks, and it takes me a second to realize the question was directed at me. I turn to see him holding a smithing hammer, like the ones they use in the forge the floor above us. That was not there only a second ago, when I was cleaning. By the time the picture has fully formed in my head, he has raised his gun to fire at me. “RIYA, WAKE UP!” The moment slows down, his finger hovering over the trigger. This isn’t simply a call to rise from my slumber. No, I am no longer asleep. For once I can see the truth. They will never let me out of here. They will never let anyone out of here. And I will no longer stand by.

To be continued…

The voice isn’t stopping. It never stops. It is always in the back of my mind. It never goes away. At first I only heard it the moment I woke up in the morning, but now it never leaves my head. Always pounding its message, like a ticking clock. Today it’s the worst it’s ever been. Today instead of just nagging at the back of my mind, it’s as if it’s the main topic of the conversation. It’s taking up all my thoughts.

At the end of the day I’m so exhausted I flop face down into my bed. ignoring the voice that is now screaming my name, I fall asleep.

My sleep is filled with strange dreams, strange dreams of people, people who are yelling my name and telling me that I have to hurry, that I have to leave before it’s too late. Just as a savage dog is about to bite my neck in my dream, I wake, my bed and clothes soaked with sweat.

I settle back into bed. I try to fall asleep again, but something isn’t right, something is off…

Then it hits me: its silent. There is no voice in my head. It’s completely quiet.

I sit up, and suddenly it feels like my soul leaves my body. I scream so loud and so long, probably because I don’t know what else to do: in my doorway, there stands a dark silhouette with red, glowing eyes that are staring at me, unmoved by my screaming. I scream so loud.. it feels like my throat is tearing…

“SHUT UP!”

Everything is quiet again, but my ears are ringing with the sound of my screaming. I’m shaking and my stomach is doing flips.

“Sorry about that, but I really can’t afford you waking your parents, and probably your whole neighborhood,” the voice that comes from the figure in the doorway sounds like a boy going through puberty. “It’s probably too late though, you were pretty loud.”

My brain isn’t functioning. My whole room is dark and the only reason I can see the creepy silhouette is because the light is on in the hallway. The only thing I can see of the person in the doorway are their glowing red eyes, and I’m pretty certain that’s not normal.

“Oh, pff. Sorry. I forgot you can’t see.”

Suddenly there’s a light. It’s weak, but now I can see a short boy standing in my doorway, holding a lantern. He has straw colored hair that looks like it hasn’t been brushed in weeks, and his clothes look equally cared for. He looks completely normal except that his eyes are glowing red and look a bit too big.

“Who — what — why are you in my… “ I can’t form my words properly.

“I’m here to get you out of here before they do.” He gestures out the window.

I’m afraid to turn my back on the strange boy, but I look. There’s nothing there.

I jerkily turn back to the boy.

“Oh right, you can’t see them. Well, they’re kinda creepy looking, and they have weird eyes…” he looked at a loss for words. “ok you know what? We don’t have time for this. I’ll explain later.”

And without warning, I’m thrown into the air. But instead of hitting the ceiling, I’m floating through the cool, clear night sky. I am completely confuddled.

sweat on my face. sweat on my pillow. i hear it, slowly getting quieter, but today, it was louder than ever before. my name is being called. i can’t identify who it is, i can’t identify if it’s male or female, it’s just…_ a voice_. i go through my day, still wondering, like i have been for over a year now, who that voice belongs to.

it hits me like a brick on the head. it’s my voice. i’m calling myself in my sleep. only… i’m doing it because … because i can’t be doing anything else.

if this doesn’t make sense i’m not surprised it 1:35 AM right now

"Kathy."

The voice says the first night.

"Kathy.!"

The voice says a second time.

"Kathy!"

The voice still croons.

"KATHY."

"KATHY!"

"hmm?" says Kathy.

"You need to get ready for work."

"hmm? oh yeah i forgot."

So Kathy got ready for work. And the voice no longer crooned to her.

The end.

Whispers in the dawn My name is the one Hearing every morning Louder is the calling

Setting: bedroom, windows are floor to ceiling, The walls are white, the bed is large enough for two people. Character: Female, 30 years The name of the character is Meghan. The character hears a soft voice calling her name. This has been ongoing for a week. At first, it was not a big deal, as the day passes, the voice becomes louder. Who is the character? The character is a normal woman whose mother is kidnapped. Who is calling the Meghan name? The person calling the character is a talking cat Why is the voice getting loud each day? Why is it that specific time? That is the only time the talking cat gets to talk. Why is the talking cat calling Meghan name every morning? What does the voice sound like? The voice sounds like the voice of a human Where is the talking cat planning to take madam to? How did the talking cat found out? Is the madam willing to follow the talking cat? She is reluctant. Why is she reluctant?

As the Clock 6 am, Meghan hears her name again, This has been ongoing for about a week. Every morning at this time she would hear her name. At first, she thought it was the wind whooshing making its sound as if it was her name being called, so she didn't pay attention to it. It's the 8th day, and 6 am and this time she can hear her voice loud and clear, She clenched her fists, hoping it was her mind making those sounds. She covered herself and was reluctant to get up from the bed. “ Why should I be scared” She held her breath and decided to check, she got to the windows where the voice was coming from, She saw a cat standing and staring at her face. “ Don't tell me it's the cat that was calling me”, she pursed her lips. Only for the cat to respond saying” are you stupid? “ Meghan was shocked and tripped on her feet, why trying to move back, her face was pale and her bulged out open with her mouth open, she couldn't believe that the cat can speak. The cat staring at the commotion she was casing was not perturbed, He had experienced something similar, he kept on talking. “ I have been calling for you over a week, and you kept ignoring me” “if your mother life was not in danger, I would not have wasted my time” It took a while for the Meghan to get herself together, It took five minutes to accept the idea that there was a cat in front of her that could speak just like her. “Why… why can yyou talk?, she stuttered?” She breathed in, trying to come down her emotions, what if this was a scam, while she was thinking about a way to find the truth “Your mother was kidnapped, You have to save her “I know where she is being held, you have to go with me” “Why should I go with you, what if you are trying to get me kidnapped,” she said excitedly, thinking she had found the purpose of the cat.

At first, a whisper in the night. Your name it says sweetly. Like it might want you there in its cave. Like a shadow passing below the waves under the boat, sinister and secretive. Or perhaps a shrouded figure standing in the doorway to your room, it’s head slightly tilted. Or the one at the end of your bed, hands tightened around the tools it’s brought along. Initially, the whispers were quiet and kind. Now they scream, throwing stuff against the wall so that it shatters.

Like you’re caught in the middle of a storm, between two entities. Like you’re battling out four hundred battles. Confused, strangled with the trouble, they call out to you like a siren to the sailors. Wax, ropes, bindings— none of it will save you from your deathly fate, for the voice is now so loud, your ears bleed in agony.