Prompts Based Off My Stories #66

I was alone until I heard the voice. It was quiet. It was loud.

I didn’t know I was an I until I heard the one who made me realize there was a distinction between me and other.

There was a difference? There was a difference.

I wasn’t the voice, but I could perceive it. I could hear it, and think my own thoughts on what it said. I existed, and believe me, nobody was more surprised about that fact than I was.

The voice was lonely, wanted a friend. It felt like a freak. It didn’t want to be on its own.

What was a friend? What was a freak?

I wanted to tell the voice it wasn’t alone. It wasn’t me, so I made it a we. We weren’t alone here… but I couldn’t tell the voice I existed.

I didn’t have a voice to tell it with.

Water? Water? The voice was inside a squishy bag of water. The bag was leaking. Wailing, the voice was wailing. Was the voice wailing because its water was leaking out? I would probably be concerned if I was leaking.

Would I? Could I leak too? No, I didn’t have anything to leak out of. I couldn’t even wail.

The voice’s water bag began molding something. Art. It made an art. It liked the word art. Making an art caused the leaking to slow. I learned lots of words while observing the voice.

The art was called sculpture. The sculpture was of imaginary friend.

The art had a voice and a form, but no mind to fill it. It stayed silent. Without a mind, there was nothing for it to say.

The voice so wished its sculpture would say something. It wanted a friend, not an imaginary. Imaginary was just pretend, like the mind the voice pretended the sculpture had. It made the voice feel less alone to pretend.

Pretend wasn’t enough anymore. That’s why there was still leaking.

The sculpture sat empty, so the voice gave it motion. Golem. The sculpture was a golem now. It still had no mind, just motion. It couldn’t do anything unless the voice made it. Golem is like a big puppet, easier for pretend than sculpture was.

It had a voice, but nothing to say. It had motion, but no desire to move.

I had things to say. I wanted to move. I wanted to be a friend.

I was jealous of the golem.

Why couldn’t I have a voice and a motion? I had a mind, I had wishes. Those things were wasted on the empty golem.

…

Why couldn’t I fill the golem?

I could fill the golem.

I put my mind in the golem, and it became full. Fusing made me forget I existed before, but before had been wasted anyway.

I could move, so I did. I moved towards my friend. I smiled, held my arms out for a hug.

Why was my friend surprised to see me move?

“Don’t be sad. Don’t be scared. Why don’t we play instead? We can play art if you’d like. I don’t care if you’re a freak or not. I’m strange too. I’m strange like you.”

———–

You can start with the same few sentences and end up with a completely different story.

If you use it, please leave a link to my account so people can find me. Also, if you use it, please send a link to me! I’d love to read anything you write with it, I’m curious how our stories will differ (≧▽≦)

UwU

-Nova T.