OPTICS - SADHVI

DARK. It seemed like a never ending lane. DESERTED. The noise of silence echoed in the ears. Red. A red telephone booth stood on the left side of the road with text on it in florescent yellow tape. A cow sat by the booth. BURNING. There was a strange smell of something burning. An eerie feeling crept inside of her. She felt her hands grow cold, standing in the middle of the road looking left, right, up. No sign of where she was. A flickering light in the distance appeared approaching her slowly. She wanted to move away and hide in the booth but some sort of spell held her there. Her eyes seemed to not blink at all. The light moved close to her, and closer. It came so close that it was an inch away from her face. She could feel the warmth of the light on her face. The light was so strong that she couldn’t open her eyes. Then slowly the warmth of the light became lesser. She opened her eyes. SHRIEK. A face was really close to her own, so close that it was almost touching her nose. She felt warm breath. A face filled with wrinkles that hid the expressions on it. An old man stood close to her examining her. THUD. He dropped the light, he fell onto his knees and started wailing. He wailed, wailed and wailed. His wailing became louder and louder. He held her hand and stretched out his other hand pointing at something. She was terrified, NUMB. She stepped back, and the old man clung to her. He moved forward and wailed some more. His hand was grabbing her arm tightly. His wailing echoed all around. She wanted to push him away and run away but the wailing, that wailing, was strangely holding her pinned down to one place. She was feeling everything but some sort of spell did not let her move. The wailing became louder and louder and louder and he held her arm more tight. He stretched out his other hand towards her and RED. BLOOD. SHRIEK. HOWL AND HOWL.
She got up with a start. Her face was sweating. It was 8’oclock in the morning. TREMBLE. It always comes back. HOWL. Why did he come now? She took a glass of water that STOOD on a small table next to her bed with her trembling hand. “At times I wish to run away to a far away place.” SCREAM. “I want to scream at the top of my voice, be mean to you, and yell at you till you realize that my state of mind is because of you.”
What troubles her? She doesn’t say IT. She assumes a lot of things and ponders over them which makes her depressed. BROOD. She is in her dark mode, when will she come out of it? Suddenly she held onto the wall, HOWL, she wailed, trembled. RED troubles her. Her red mug, red paints. She sees his face in them. She wants to run away from him. She had killed him. His blood splattered onto her face. RED. But was it real? She was going mad. She dread him. She thinks that he is back, he is following her. What is she doing to herself? She lay down. NUMB. Her diary lies open, the pages strewn on the floor. But there he is, on the page that lay next to her. He is not real. He is her imaginary character becoming real, only TOO REAL. VIRTUALLY REAL.
(ENDS)

avy comments:
This is nice and tight and has a good twist in it.
However, for your final story you will have to begin afresh I believe.
Spin your final story from the space of time.