Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

My story is posted. Short in comparison to some others, but I am pretty pleased with how it turned out considering I wrote this at 11pm. This was definately a story that I had a lot of fun experimenting with, and adding a few (hopefully) thought provoking lines. I would like to thank you all for hosting this lovely contest and allowing me the honour of participating! Good luck to everyone!

The Time that House Forgot

Light. White light all around me. Bright light. It had a name. Dog? No. Delay? Almost. Day? Yes that was it. Day. I remember now. It came after night. Night is for sleeping. Day is for waking. Waking? Yes waking. I must wake up. Wake up.

Slowly my eyes creak open, first one and then the other. I have done this for so many years now that I complete the task slowly, almost dreading what the new day will bring. As my eyes adjust to the sunlight, I peer out through the mouldy shutters at my surroundings. Nothing has changed. Nothing ever changes. All around me is a grey wasteland, devoid of any life. Black smudges mar the landscape, and I do not know what they are. No plants grow here; no animals call this place their home. There is only me, swimming amongst the sea of lifelessness, and like a drowning man I feel myself being pulled under the waves. There was life here once, I remind myself. Yes, life. That is what it is called. My brain whirs slowly into life, like a rusted machine pulling itself slowly back from decay. As words begin to formulate I have an idea, and I feel a light bulb switch on within me. I start to search through the mangled memories within my mind, feeling my way along like a blind man through a forest. It seems to take an age, and I am sure that the last time I performed such a task it did not take as long. I contemplate giving up and going back to my brain-dead state but something within me sparks urgency, and forces me onwards despite my protests. Suddenly I grasp it, holding it tightly for fear of it vanishing again in an instant. I pull it towards me, and soon I have claimed my prize. I shut my eyes content, as the memories begin the replay themselves.

At first I was small. So very small. Life was simple in those days. There was no remembering to be done, no thoughts to organize. Everything came so easily and life was an adventure. I smile at the fleeting feeling of carelessness that passes over me, relishing in its sweet emotion before it vanishes again. There was life then. People seemed to swarm all around me like rats, scurrying to and fro. I frown slightly as I realise the only rats left now are those that nibble on the mats and fight over scraps. It fades quickly however as now I do not care, for I am far away from this depressing reality inside this fantastical fantasy.

My memories have changed. I am taller now, for I have grown. That is what happens over time I recall. You grow. You grow and you age. There are more than just people around me now. There are houses. So many houses and all of them full of life. I am full of life to. I try and force myself to remember the people from my past, but they appear to me only as formless shadows; mere husks of their former selves. Kindly mothers and stern fathers. Laughing brothers and pouting sisters. Mysterious grandmothers and gnarled grandfathers. Soon even the shadows fade. They have all gone now, yet I remain. I have triumphed over the force that has claimed them all. I have triumphed over time.

The fantasy slowly changes to match the reality and my mind begins to slow, transporting only small flashes of garbled memories. There was something. Something bad. People were scared. They left. They left me. They all left me. A new memory slices through my mind like a knife, dispersing the old to make way for the new. I am alone now. So alone. There is just me and the houses. All of them are abandoned. All of them are alone. All of them are lifeless. Then the bad something came. It was a bright light, but it wasnâEUTMt day. Or was it? I cannot remember. It was hot though. Searing hot. The light burned all the houses. It burned all the cement and the tar and the grass and the trees. It burned everything but me. I was spared. I survived.

My eyes snap open with a jolt as I find myself back in the present. I look around. Nothing has changed. Nothing ever changes. The grey landscape remains, as do the black smudges. I know what they are. They are the remains of life. They are the smouldering ashes of people. I stare at them blankly. I am different from them, I know. I try to remember why I am different. I was more like those other things that the people left behind. Those other things, what name did they have? I cannot remember, but I know they were here. Everything was here once, but now it is just me.

Just me, the grey, and the whispers of time long forgotten by the world and myself.

So I created an account to enter this thing at the last minute but I don't really understand the theme. I thought it was about living houses, but many people have just posted stories with the setting as a house. Could someone please tell me exactly what the theme is, as my idea is focused around the living house idea, and I want to check if it is allowed before I start working on it. Thanks!