Writing Scrap #1
Originally the preface to Doppelgänger, but then I changed ideas on how I wanted the story to go, making this extract redundant.
I open my window wide, feeling the chill wind blow against my face.
Outside I see the lights of cars whizzing by on main road in front. Noises drift around, the television is still blaring from downstairs. That's not the noise I notice most though.
What I notice, are the voices. The voices which reason suggests are in my head. They come to me from the woods behind my family's house. Left to ruin for who knows how long, the woods are overgrown, dark and unruly. Walk a few metres in and it would be all too easy to become lost.
That, at first, had been the appeal. I had wanted to be lost, to lose myself in a world away from all I had known. When I was lost there, all the troubles of my life drained away as if sucked in by a dirt beneath my feet. I felt calm.
It is strange to think I felt happier – more peaceful – when I was closed in on all sides by trees than when I was with friends... or family. I belonged more there than I ever would do at home.
That was how it started, this story. With my daily visits deep into the woods. Always exploring, seeing how far I could go before getting scared. Then I would sit for a time, on the trunks of fallen trees, and just listen to the silence. Back when the woods remained silent.
Now they call to me.
Outside I see the lights of cars whizzing by on main road in front. Noises drift around, the television is still blaring from downstairs. That's not the noise I notice most though.
What I notice, are the voices. The voices which reason suggests are in my head. They come to me from the woods behind my family's house. Left to ruin for who knows how long, the woods are overgrown, dark and unruly. Walk a few metres in and it would be all too easy to become lost.
That, at first, had been the appeal. I had wanted to be lost, to lose myself in a world away from all I had known. When I was lost there, all the troubles of my life drained away as if sucked in by a dirt beneath my feet. I felt calm.
It is strange to think I felt happier – more peaceful – when I was closed in on all sides by trees than when I was with friends... or family. I belonged more there than I ever would do at home.
That was how it started, this story. With my daily visits deep into the woods. Always exploring, seeing how far I could go before getting scared. Then I would sit for a time, on the trunks of fallen trees, and just listen to the silence. Back when the woods remained silent.
Now they call to me.