the "dark" theme bit is just saying that it's really creepy and demented and yes, there is mature content.....(i dunno WHAT sparked this idea.......)
They say that dying is like seeing a light at the end of a tunnel, and that after death is either heaven or hell.
I know better.
I have died.
And risen again every time.
This is my story.
I have always been…different...from the others. I never cried as a baby. I never played their games of tag and ball. I never begged for a toy until my parents bought it for me just to shut me up. I always thought that was stupid. I always kept to myself. To remind them I was different and to keep them away, I always dressed oddly. No bright ribbons, or light up shoes. Black. Black shirts, shoes, pants. I dyed my hair when my parents let me. I bought black lipstick, eyeliner. Even the Goths stayed away from me. They were all too scared. Except…her…that teacher…Mrs. Frieds. English my senior year was the only subject I liked. Because she made fun projects and never made us present them, or read them herself. But she gave everyone A’s if we did the assignment. She told us that the mind was sacred. That it should never be defiled by others intruding on it. They didn’t understand. I was the only one. And she knew it. She knew I understood. She understood me, but never approached me. Never tried to “help” me. “The mind is sacred.” Others. The counselors. The principles. The shrinks. They all tried. Tried to make me like the others. Not knowing that I would NEVER be like them. Even if I wanted to. I stayed after class one day to talk to her. See how much she knew, and why, how. She just smiled at me. Not patronizingly like the others. Nicely. She told me that I already knew the answer. I just needed to find it. Explore the unusual maze of my mind. I have been. Ever since I was born. She disappeared. I went into hiding. Knowing that I would be next. But they did find me. But instead of killing me, the just bound me and gagged me. Taking me gods know where. They took me to her. Mrs. Frieds. She said it was nice to see me again. Asked me how I’d been doing. I would have answered, but they came in, with another guy. This guy, now he was scary. Terrifying. Not in appearance, no, if I was a girl, I’d have been in love with him. He was terrifying in DEMEANOR. He had this sneer that refused to go away. And he always looked down his nose at us. He told us that we were scum. Fools for not even wanting to fit in. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I started to tell him as much. But he kicked me in the mouth. I shut up and glared at him. He seemed to be amused by my hatred. He took a gun from one of the guys behind him and shot me. Square in the chest. The bullet went through my heart and out my back. My last glimpse was of Mrs. Frieds’ sad look as she knelt by my side.
I woke up. Mrs. Frieds was there, holding a wet cloth to my forehead. Smiling sadly. I asked her what happened and she told me, in a way. She said that one in over a few hundred thousand people are born without the ability to die. That she was the first, and I was of the second. She said that every time we should have died, we just see the blackness that is death. We stay there for about five minutes, and come back. We can talk to the dead. But we walk among the living. I thought for a minute. I asked her how old she was. She said she was a few thousand years old. She didn’t look it. She looked 24. I asked if it was genetic. She said she didn’t know. That was what they were testing. If it was, they would make us have sex. To try and make more of us. If it wasn’t, they would try to find what made us. We would become lab rats. I thought. I asked her if she was still a virgin. She smiled and told me there was a reason her name was Mrs. Frieds. Ah. I asked her if she had any kids. She said yes, but they were long dead. I started to ask her if she’d had more than one husband, but HE walked in just then. He said that the tests didn’t show much, and that they'd be breeding us, just in case it was genetic. I hardly heard him. Something had just occurred to me. My earliest memory was of darkness. Then there was light and someone’s face. And a voice asking me if I was ok. Was this actually my first encounter with death? Is that how I knew I was different? Rough hands grabbed me and pulled me up. The owner of the hands asked me if I was still a virgin. I said yes. Of course I was. I wouldn’t sleep with any of the kids at school. He laughed, told me that I wouldn’t be for much longer. Great. 18, unmarried, and going to be forced to have sex with a thousand year old teacher. Life is good. Ugh. Well, my optimistic side pointed out that it could be one of the kids from school. I told it to shut up. No matter what, I could NOT think about actually enjoying this. It was sick. Perverted. That a** had to die. Somehow.
Apparently, we had gotten where we were going. We were practically thrown into a room. When I got up and looked around, it seemed like a living room. I explored the doors leading off and found a bedroom, only one, though, a kitchen, and a bathroom. I heard Mrs. Frieds comment that we were obviously expected to stay here for a while. Crap. I went into the kitchen and took inventory. It had everything we’d need. The fridge had plenty of food. So did the cupboards. There was a stove and a microwave.
I jumped when Mrs. Frieds came in and put a hand on my shoulder. She asked me if I wanted to share the bed. I told her she could have it. I’d take the couch.
I went and looked at the bedroom. There was a luxurious king-size bed with a canopy, a closet with blankets and clothes, and a TV with a DVD player and some of those movies that show you how to have a great sex life.
That a**’s voice came on over a P.A. system, though I could never find the speakers. He asked how we liked the place. I told him it was fine, though the movies weren’t quite to my taste. That made him laugh. Cold and cruel. Mrs. Frieds came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. He told us to enjoy and we heard him no more.
I turned to look at Mrs. Frieds and was shocked to see tears streaming down her face. I made her sit on the bed and knelt in front of her. I asked her what was wrong. She told me she was just thinking about how bleak the outlook was for any children they had was. Either they die when they’re tested to see if they inherited our immortality, or they can’t die. She gestured for hopelessness. As she brought her hands down, I noticed something. I caught her wrist and looked at it. There were straight, even scars along the inside. I looked at her, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. I sat beside her and wrapped my arms around her. Gradually, she stopped crying and asked what time it was. I looked around, but didn’t see a clock. I told her so and she laughed. She said it figured that they wanted us to figure out our own schedule. Sleep when we want, eat when we want. Have sex when we want...
I pulled her to her feet saying we should find something to eat. She told me that she wasn’t very hungry. I said I wasn’t either, but it would give us something to focus on besides our… predicament. We went to the kitchen and found a pot and a can of soup. I watched it heat up while Mrs. Frieds found dishes and silverware. After we’d eaten, we went to the bedroom and turned on the TV to see if we got any channels or if we were stuck with sex movies. We got two things. News and discovery channel. Well, it’s something. I settled down to watch the news while Mrs. Frieds went to see what all was in the bathroom. Pictures of me and Mrs. Frieds came up on the news, saying that there was a search team looking for us. I told Mrs. Frieds to come in and look. We watched the bulletin, which wasn’t long, then turned it off. I looked at Mrs. Frieds to see what she thought. Her expression was bleak. I asked her if there was any hope of them finding us, she said there wasn’t much. Skyler, the guy behind this, was too clever. I swore under my breath. I felt myself begin to become claustrophobic. I looked around the room, then went into the living room, which was bigger. I waited until my breathing slowed to go back and talk to Mrs. Frieds. I asked her questions. I tried not to get too personal, but I was curious, I couldn’t help myself, sometimes. She answered all of them, not seeming to mind. When I finished, she asked me if I had died before. I told her about the memory I had of darkness then the light and someone asking me if I was all right. She asked me how old I was when this happened. I told her I was probably 3 or 4 years old. She seemed surprised. I asked her why. She told me that this trait usually didn’t manifest until puberty. I asked her if this meant anything. She said no. Many other traits, like height, can manifest before puberty, why not this one?
I found a small room leading off of the bedroom that had a library in it. There was a computer. I ran to it and looked at it. It was a Dell with Linux installed on it, great. I looked at the start menu to see if we could get Internet. There was the Firefox option, now did we have a connection? I clicked on it and waited for the page to load, which didn’t take long. I concluded that it was a DSL service, not bad. I quickly looked at Email and chat websites, I couldn’t get anything as far as Email went, but gaiaonline.com wasn’t locked, neither was Facebook. I was so relieved. I logged onto my account on Gaia and was just getting to my inbox, when the connection died. s**t. That wasn’t good. But the computer had Linux, that was good. I could hack the main computer and screw stuff up, once I knew where to find it in the network.
I looked through the shelves of books. It was like the library at school. Paperback fictions in one area, hardcover in another, with paperback and hardcover non-fiction mixed together in their own section. I picked up a book at random and opened it.
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