First, they took my eyes
Prompt piece for Write or Die project
Waking to see only darkness
Wishing I knew where I was
Not daring to stand,
I crawled slowly forward
Trying to find the wall
That had to be there
The only scents in the air
Cold metal, dampness, fear
The only sounds
My breathing
My pounding heart
Nothing but air around me
Nothing but floor beneath me
I seemed to crawl forever
But did not reach a wall
Bumps in the hard floor
Hurt my knees, my hands
Disappeared quickly behind me
None big enough, real enough
To slow my progress
Stopping to rest
I wondered
Where I was
I remembered home
Beautiful freedom
Bright colors
Scrumptious smells
Music playing
I remembered the door
Bursting open
Breaking
People rushing in
Screaming
Being hit on the head
Then nothing
Until I woke here eyeless
No way to know
Where I was
Why they had taken
My life from me
Fearing I would never
Know real life again
Unable to cry, I screamed
But no one heard
Jack Herlocker, Zev, LB, Sam H Arnold: You have been entered to the Hell of the Dead by me. To escape to the Living Hall, you will have to recreate this piece in your own words or extend it as part of the Write or Die collaboration. Failure to comply will leave your name and soul in the Hell of the Dead.
Editor’s note: This is a prompt. Your job is to take this story, extend it to the deepest, dungiest places of your imagination. The end is in your hands. For more details, see
