Posted in Stories and Poems

Misted away

It’s night, and I’m standing alone in the dark. The fog curls around the air, getting thicker and thicker by the moment, till it’s hard to see. I glance behind me and I see mist, so dense that it feels dangerously magical.

I run!

I scramble blindly through the trees, not allowing myself to stop. I know nothing except for the fact that my life depends upon me running away from this…this nothingness, this emptiness. This feeling that I never felt before. This feeling that I’ve never allowed myself to give in to. But every step I take only seems to draw it closer and closer till the dark is a pale silver, shrouded with this strange fog.

And there’s only so long a person can run. Soon, my legs give way. I stumble, screaming, almost falling into the abyss, holding on to the ground, trying desperately not to let go.

I can’t help it anymore. The cold is upon me. I can’t stop the mist from enveloping me. At first its cold is an embrace to my pain. But then it freezes my heart. And I can’t breathe. I feel my fingers slipping away, one, two three, until I’m holding on to life with just a thumb. I howl with desperation, flailing, trying to lift myself.

But the fog has turned to ice now. And it’s in my hands, my lungs, my heart. It’s everywhere. And it’s choking me. And I can’t do it. I can’t do it.

So, I stop thrashing, and I let go.

I feel my body floating down, as if in slow motion. I feel my eyes closing as a tear slips down my eye and freezes with the ice in my cheeks. I’m drifting farther and farther away from the mercy of the one thing I had believed in my whole life, the one thing that I was never able to let go, no matter how hard things were.

Hope.

I had held on to it even as despair had clutched me, even as it had stabbed me in the heart, over and over. Hope was the one thing I had held on to with dear life, my one last belief, the tiny ray of sunshine in this miserable life that had helped me get up every single day, because I had hoped!

Until I realized that I didn’t want to hope anymore, that it was just too painful. And slowly this despair and this fear had turned to anguish, and I felt that last thread slipping past my fingers.

And now it’s gone. And I’m alone, falling into this dark, empty void, deeper…and deeper.


This was inspired by a prompt I read in a blog once- imagine yourself in a situation where you never want to be, or something like that, I guess. And for me one of the scariest things in my life would be if I stopped having hope when it comes to life. So, I wrote this. I hope you enjoyed it, let me know in the comments!

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Welcome to my site where I talk about all things bookish and from time to time, put my writing skills to test.

25 thoughts on “Misted away

      1. You and some other bloggers were actually kind of the ones who inspired me to write my own short stories and post them! So thank you 😊

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Wow, this one really hits hard, Nehal! 😭 I love it, obviously!! Particularly since you can’t really be sure whether everything is real or metaphorical, and because the story so deliciously creepy and sad… 🥰

    Liked by 1 person

  2. NEHAL!!!! YOU’RE BACKKK!!! AHHH EXCUSE ME WHILE I SCREAM BECAUSE I AM SO GLAD!
    ALSO ALSO I LOVE THE STORY OBVIOUSLY!! It’s CREEPY AND AMAZING AND MAGICAL AND JUST SO!! NICE!! ❤️❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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