Hold Me Close | Kellic

Chapter 33

"He's waking up."

"Shh, don't disturb him."

"Be patient, let him stir properly."

"Let him get himself up."

"Silence. He's awake"

My eyelids slowly fluttered open like the fabulous princess that I am. My face was pressed against a cold, stone floor and I used my hands to lift myself off the ground. I was surprised to find that doing just that was extremeley difficult, I was really, really weak.

The voices around me had hushed however I could still make out the odd whisper here and there. Once my vision had focused it clicked in my head where exactly I was. I was stuck in the place that one of the fake Mikes had been when we searched for him.

I couldn't remember how I got here but that didn't matter, what mattered was getting out. There were bars around me just like there had been when we found the first Mike. Fortunately I hadn't forgotten that they'd burn your hands if you were to touch them. Eventually I found the strength to get back on my feet. Wobbling from side to side, I stepped forward until I was only inches away from the bars that held me captive.

"He's weak, he can't do anything now. He's weak," the voices started again.

"Shut up, he's strong."

"Weak."

"Strong."

These voices were crazy. I recognised them as the same voices that tormented us when we stood on the ledge of the clock face and as the ones who seeped into Mike's brain and had him turning insane. I didn't know whether they were with me or against me.

"No. You shut up and tell me what's going on," I said, attempting to sound as harsh as I could. I turned my gaze upwards to see the burnt in faces that were carved into the wood that lined the walls. Many had began smirking at me.

"You were thrown in here," one of them said.

"And left to rot," another finished.

Nice.

It seemed as though I wouldn't be getting any help from them until a little memory began forming. The reason why we had managed to get behind the clock in the first place.

"Hey," I shouted out at them, "Why did you let me and my friends in the first time we came here?" All I could remember was them trusting me only because I was able to talk back at them as I had experience with voices in my head before.

"Because you can do what you're doing now. You're strong willed enough to actually talk to us," the lowest voice of them all spoke slowly. I had a feeling this one ruled over the rest.

"Soooo, what does that mean?" I urged them on to give me more of a better explanation.

"You're like us, you have good intentions."

I scoffed, "You have good intentions? Such as what?"

"To do what's right and that is keeping Hell as it is," it replied. Those weren't in fact my intentions but I'd go with it, "We know that if we let you go, you will find a way to stop this war and so that is what we will do."

And just like that the bars were lifted, folding themselves into the ceiling above creating burn marks on the rock that this room was made of. I really didn't believe in the power the faces held until that moment. So simply did they manage to return my freedom.

Freedom was a weird idea and if anything only a conspiracy, no one was ever truly free until they learnt to let go of the emotions that came with hanging onto only the hope of being free. To be free is to not care, then that way you're free of the feeling of hurt but to elimanate the sadness from your existence, it must be balanced with taking away the good side to living. That's when you're left with nothing, once you're like that then there's no need to even consider breathing anymore because you can't feel anymore. In the end, freedom isn't what people interpret it as nor is it something needed. The security of others is more and better comfort than seeking life on your independence. The unfortunate thing is that I am still thinking of freedom even after death.