[ SECRET POST #2596 ]

[case]

⌈ Secret Post #2596 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

01.


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02.
[Star Trek: The Next Generation]


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03.
[The Croods]


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04.
[Elementary]


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05.
[Final Fantasy XIII]


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06.
[SCP Foundation]


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07.
[Philip Seymour Hoffman]


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08.
[Twin Peaks]


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09.
[Richard Armitage]


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10.
[Reign]


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11.
[The Hobbit]


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12.
[Hunger Games]


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13.
[Don't Hug Me I'm Scared]


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14.
[Teen Wolf]


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15.
[Panic! at The Disco/Dallon Weekes]















Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 03 pages, 063 secrets from Secret Submission Post #371.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

What are you?

I'm not sure. I saw light and dark, ground and sky, and I felt cold and warmth -- but I could express nothing. I drifted. Experience was abstract.

They took me on a clear day, when the winds blew hard and tugged me from my perch. They put me in a space, small and dark, defined by boundaries that I would learn to call 'walls.'

Time passed, and my self expanded.

I grew limbs. Up from those limbs bubbled flesh, and skin hardened over it like a film. There were striations, wide, a deep pink. They told me it was due to the cold. I didn't understand, because I couldn't feel cold.

In those days, I felt only his presence. I knew only him.

He was as confused as I. He developed, and looked upon himself, and met his reality with the same passive confusion that I had known. With lips, freshly grown, I spoke to him in a language that I still couldn't fully understand, and he listened with ears that still couldn't fully process sound.

"It'll go away. We'll be okay."

I didn't know when I reached out to him. I couldn't comprehend. But I took him, and I held him, and I pressed my mouth to his. We retreated back into ourselves, into our corners of the space. Days unfolded.

I confessed. "I liked that. I liked...doing that with you."

It became our way of passing the time. We gave in to our new bodies and succumbed to sensation. When they came to ask me their questions, I could think only of him. They wanted to know so much. Even had I been able to meditate on it, I would not have been able to tell them.

I do not know who I am. I do not know what I am. They have not been able to understand this. Self-awareness hangs like a noose about their necks. I, however, am free.

They could not shake the truth from me. They could not scare it from me. They thought to take him, but I know better than that. I know, at least, that we once did not have these forms, and that taking them from us is no threat.

I do not know what I am. But I can prevent them from knowing, even as I prevent myself.

[(Anonymous)]

I once wrote a beginning of a story that is eerily similar to this. Like, certain lines and phrases in this are almost exactly like parts of my story.

Super weird.

Anyway, I like this, whatever it is!