This was a dream I had, it was more like a nightmare really.

Bubbling, bubbling

“You can’t just leave me here!’ I screamed. My voice was muffled by the rope binding my mouth. I was immersed in a thick dark liquid, but I could still breathe. I was tied to a long wooden pole, splinters were forced into my skin, by the constant rubbing, by me trying to get free. The rope was thick and harsh against my skin, it bound my wrists and ankles. The skin under it was blistering, it stung constantly, the nerves screaming at my brain to do something, but I couldn’t.

Then there was this white mould, it hug in the space around me, filling my sight. My hair was no longer the dark brown it used to be, but now it was a pure white, covered in the mould and twisted into wild dreadlocks.

Tears came from my eyes, but they did not reach my cheeks, the water took that away, but I could still breathe. I stared up, there was a glimmer of light through the canopy of white mould. My heart filled with hope. Struggling, I pulled myself up, only the realised I was still tied to the pole. The ropes wouldn’t tear, and slowly the hope faded back into despair.

My stomach rumbled. The gag in my mouth didn’t taste as disgusting now, my teeth pressed down on it. They chewed the rope as if it were a meal, the strand slid down my throat, ripping it raw. When the rope finally snapped, my stomach sighed in relief, no more rope.

I twisted my body up the pole, in an attempt to reach the mould. My wrists slit with the pressure forced on them. My eyes became wide with excitement as I reached the top. My mouth curled around a strand of the white mould, and I bit down, the mould was like a piece of soft string. I tasted disgusting, my gag reflex forcing me to open my mouth, trying to remove it. It decided to continue on its journey and it stopped halfway down my throat, no more breaths could enter my lungs. I was choking. My tongue fell forward, my eyes bulged, the rope around my wrists tightened as I tried to remove my hands. It twisted like ivy, latching onto my wrists, never letting go. Though the water must have made it weak, because as my head became light the rope ripped, my hand immediately pulled the mould out of my throat before I drifted out of consciousness. No more white mould.

My eyes fluttered open. My throat was raw, a rasping breath whispered through me. The water flowed around my body as it woke. I could smell something, my nose wrinkled as it registered in my head. Blood. However, it smelt good, like a banquet, like my favourite meal. My mouth watered.

I gasped, my now free hand flinging to my mouth. I was talking about eating myself. I gazed upon the lines of blood slowly crawling from the blisters on my wrists. It danced in the water in front of my eyes, my nose called it forward, vacuuming up all the delicious scent. My lips carefully laid on the cuts, they sucked. The blood tasted wonderful in my mouth, like a fountain if joy, without realising it my teeth chew the hanging flesh, I cringed back only a small yelp being freed by my vocal chords. The pain still rushed through me. What was I thinking? No more human.

Although eating human is cannibalism, it is just like eating a steak, but fresher and juicer. It does taste good and it wasn’t just because I was starving that it did, it was genuinely a nice meal. I shuddered at my own thoughts. Then I wondered, is it still cannibalism, if you eat yourself?

I was staring up again, into the light. My heart glowed as hope filtered back into my thoughts, I bet I could free my legs now. My body curled so I could reach my feet. The gown I was wearing flew up, free for the first time. The rope fell off my feet. The blood was caught by my nose again, but I resisted my disgusting thoughts and swam upwards again. My arms pulled out in front of me and then came back, my legs appeared like frogs, I think it was called breaststroke. The skirt of the dress tied round my legs. The white mould covered my exit. My hands stretched toward it and ripped the mould apart. Small particles of it floated past me, disappearing into the canopy of white mould below. I forced myself up, constantly staring at the surface, my heart longing for air constantly, but I forgot the water.

I was told long ago about a place, were you can never escape. Even when you reach the surface you are trapped under a thin sheet of life, and you can never escape. The call to the surface will burn constantly in you, but you can never go past it.

The call isn’t to go back to the real world and live. The call is dying.

The call is just a little noise in the back of your head.

The call says come back.

The call is a whisper.

The call is just a bubbling, bubbling.

Imagine the girl at the end, staring at you, she says the first bubbling, then the girl becomes you and she says the second one. Aaah it's so wrong and horrible. Anyway, reviews? Tell me how sick minded I am? Come on you know you want to!