Forum Search
Gave it a try. A parody of the famous Lennon Avendon's poster, with 70 styled letters...
Comments, sugestions?
![[contest] Newgrounds Comic Ad](http://bbsimg.ngfiles.com/14/19712000/ngbbs4a749b44e9d9f.jpg)
Praying with Eyes Closed
I kept walking around the city aimlessly, like a ghost. I couldn't remember for how long I'd been in this state. To be honest, I couldn't quite remember anything. My name, my past, the city, it was all a big blur. I just kept walking, as in a dream. A bad dream, one of those in which there's only one thing on your mind, looping endlessly and keeping you from getting any rest. What that thing was, nothing but the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.
People didn't seem to mind me much, but I sometimes noticed a certain uneasiness when I passed, as if they were afraid I was going to steal their purses or stab them if they crossed me. More than once I saw passers-by shudder, and whenever I stopped in a corner, waiting for the lights, I was sure to find the area immediately around me clear, even though more people were waiting. I wasn't looking shabby or anything; I was actually very well-dressed. That puzzled me a little. Why would people avoid me? It was almost like they knew something I didn't. I couldn't find anything wrong with my appearance to justify that impression. I didn't think about that too much though, that lingering heavy feeling wouldn't let me pursue any train of thought properly. So I just kept carrying the silent anonymous burden nonstop throughout the city.
Sometimes I'd have flashes. They were mostly just painful glimpses of falling yellow things, my heart sinking down to my navel with motion sickness and an impending sense of doom. I fancy I heard screaming, but that could have been the city roar, with its sirens and bells, filtered through my delusional ears. The world would be gone for a couple of seconds and I would sometimes, upon waking, find myself on the ground. I'd get up and keep walking. The busy, rushing city pretended not to have seen me fall.
On those occasions, my heart would be even heavier for several minutes. I was aware I couldn't live like this forever; I had to find out what had happened and try to recover my memory. I knew that was what I had to do, but at the same time it was the thing I dreaded the most. When something terrible happens, your mind tries to protect you by erasing those painful memories. In my case though, it seemed my brain had done too much with my memory and too little for my heart. For even though I honestly could not remember my name, I could still feel all the weight and I simply didn't want to know of what.
Two things alone would have the power to reach me through the thick walls of gloom I now had about me. A car alarm and the sight of the sea. The latter had actually been the trigger of the first painful flash I had, as far as I can remember. I had been walking for God knows how long when I suddenly found myself on the beach. It was a dark, cloudy day, and the immense, infinite mass of gray water looked even more frightening, each roaring surf a stretched arm trying to pull me in. I tried to turn around and go, but it was too late. A narrow corridor, that dreadful feeling of the floor sliding beneath your feet. I closed my eyes tightly, looked up with a scowl and clenched fists and started to pray. I woke up sprawled in the sand and from that point on, whenever I noticed the buildings were coming to an end or any other sign that the ocean might be close by, I'd turn around and walk away.
More difficult to escape from were the alarms. There would always be something beeping on that busy metropolis, but just one specific kind of siren would make me shiver and stop my ears in distraught. It was a short, deep repetitive warning, and I wondered how people could keep minding their business calmly while such a sure evidence of incoming disaster was going off. This is basically the pitiful state I was in, for I don't know how long; numb distressed roaming, neverending, not stopping for food or rest, until I finally found myself facing the defying sea for a second time, while the horrendous siren went off in the distance.
I can't really remember what happened, I only know I woke up screaming in the sand.This flash had been particularly intense and it took me a while to even remember I didn't remember anything and that whatever had happened was gone. I quickly walked away from the beach, my heart still racing. To calm myself, I walked into an empty Café and sat down. No waiter came to help me, but before I could complain, something on a forgotten newspaper caught my eyes. I picked it up and started reading intently. It all came back to me at once, and I'd have probably died, if that was possible.
"No Survivors" read the lines below that big sad headline. That made no sense! At the same time, it did make a lot of sense, in a horrible way, for now I knew beyond any doubt, I had been a passenger aboard that doomed flight.
