An original literary work by me
I stand at the end of a long corridor. It's damp and smells of mildew. Very little light creeps into this place. What light there is is coming from several small grates that run along the ceiling. The walls are constructed of coarse stone. Several kinds of moss are growing wildly upon them. Two large steel doors block my path. Though, I don't see them as an obstacle, for those door are the only thing that stand between me and my impending death. I just look at those doors and hope that they will never open....... but its only a matter of time before they do. I already know that an arena lies on the other side of the doors, but what I am going to be faced with, is unknown. I can hear thousands of people chanting. All of them are here to be entertained by the spilling of my blood. It's sickening.
I can feel my once nerves of steel begin to crumble......I release the grasp that i had on my shield and sword. They fall in the sand. And so do I...I fall to my knees and put my face in my hands, and I cry. "How did I get here?" I began asking myself. "What brought me to this fate?" I didn't understand why this question weighed such a heavy burden now at this exact moment. Is it really that important? I don't know but I search for an answer anyway. Before I can find the answer, the large rusty door hinges begin to moan and the doors open slowly. I look up as sunlight floods the darkness. I have to squint my eyes until they adjust. The crowd's cheers grow deafening and echo throughout the corridor.
I sit here in the sand...crying...and sunddenly the crowd's cheer....everything fades and the world grows silent....it comes to a stop. And for a moment I am in complete solitude. My entire life begins flashing spiratically before my eyes. Then I see her, I see Kanya, the girl who has my heart. The girl I love..... and how i never got the chance to tell her how i felt. I see the day that i met her. The day i had come to her island.....I see the day that I left....The day I was to confess my love for her and ask her to be my bride. The day she was taken from me. I think about what could have been if that day had never happened. I see myself as a boy. I am crying. I remember this day. I had been bullied by a boy named Leca at school. He had said that my family wasn't worth the dung that comes from a horse's ass. My father tells me to be strong. To stand up for myself. To be proud of who I was.....But that was before he began drinking. Then I see what it was that made him start....My mother's sudden and gruesome death. It was that day that ruined my father. It was that day........ Then suddenly, I see my mother. She looks so real. I reach out to her....then as quickly as the images had come to me, they fade away. That day.......that day is where the search for the answer starts. Where my story begins. The day my mother died.
