X's trying to write a story blog #1

Rachel had lost motivation lately. She could barely force herself to eat and no longer found anything of particular interest. She always felt on edge - like there was something she had to do, and so she couldn't relax. She sat around her house and browsed image sharing websites for hours.

She used to have friends, but she alienated them months ago. Rachel was never interested in leaving her house, and so one by one her friends stopped contacting her.

One day Rachel was sitting on her couch in her empty one bedroom apartment, and suddenly the light left her house. Everything was pitch black. Quickly she fumbled her fingers into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She unlocked it quickly and looked at the screen. No signal. She turned on the phone's flashlight function and began to stumble about her living room. Fear overtook her and she ran into her room.

Rachel tried to flip on a light switch in her bedroom. She flipped it a few times quickly, but despite a click, there was no light. Her phone read 3:11 PM, but the sky outside looked closer to 4 AM. Fear began to overtake her. Perhaps this was a dream, or maybe she was going crazy.

Rachel ran outside and she was immediately gripped by fear. The first thing that she noticed was that the air felt cool and damp, and that there was a complete lack of sound - like that experienced only in the early hours of a Christmas morning. There was not enough ambient light to see even an inch ahead of her - and she could only see what she illuminated with her phone.

Rachel felt like reality had ceased - as one feels drifting off in a deep sleep. She was paralyzed. She was afraid to go back into her home, and also afraid to venture out. Everything was dark and uncertain. She looked again at her phone to see what the battery was at "43%".

"What should I do?" She thought
"Should I try to see if Steven is home next door? Everyone else must be afraid. Maybe someone has a generator and I can charge my phone." She made up her mind to find Steven. She thought
"If something is wrong I will be safer with a friend."

She used her phone's light to see a few feet ahead of herself and carefully stepped her way to Steven's front porch. There was no light on in his home. Rachel knocked on Steven's door, and waited for a reply.
"Where could he be? God please let someone answer the door". She waited a few moments and knocked again. Still there was no answer. She started to despair and began banging on the door. The sound of her assault on the wooden behemoth seemed to dampen as it flew away from her fists. The quality of the air was like that which dampens sound on a snowy night.

She turned about face to the door and let her weight fall on it. She slid down its face until her whole body landed on the concrete porch. She began to sob and her thoughts became muddled.
"What's happened to Steven?! Why is it so cold and damp out here?!"

Rachel sat crying and sniffling for several minutes. She regained her composure and raised herself back to her feet. She turned to face the door and this time she placed her hand on the door handle. She tried the nob, and to her surprise it was not locked. She felt wrong entering Steven's home, but the strange nature of the day weakened her moral resolve - and like in a dream - she as felt as though no action was impermissible.

She slowly opened the door and walked into the home. Rachel closed and locked the door behind herself, and she called out
"Steven? Are you home". There was no reply. She thought
"Where could he be? I hope he's okay. I need someone to convince me I'm not going insane."

She glanced again at her phone's battery, and saw that the flashlight was diminishing its power quickly. Again the phone read
"no signal". Rachel quickly searched around the apartment and found that Steven was not in any of its rooms. She began to feel hopeless again and a feeling of despair began to overtake her.

Just then she heard a voice from behind her.
"Why-" at that she quickly turned about and screamed in a high pitch, and her feet slipped from underneath her. She was on the ground pointing the flashlight into the air, and then all around.
"Where did that voice come from?" She thought.
"Who was that? What's going on?!"

Again the voice spoke
"Why do you-?"
At this she shouted,
"Where are you? Where's Steven?!" and a feeling of complete dread overtook her. She felt mortal fear.
Again the voice spoke out, now angrily.
"Why do you bring light into the world of darkness!"
Rachel quickly shined her phone's light in every direction, but she could not spot any source for this voice. She crawled backwards haphazardly with the awkward speed of a wounded animal. She backed herself into a corner and hit her head against a wall in her hurry. Again the voice rang out.
"You cannot see with that light, there is another way here."
Rachel became bewildered as looked about and tried to find a place to run. She rose to her feet and said aloud,
"Where's Steven?"
The voice replied, annoyed.
"Turn off your light, and I'll tell you whatever you want to know.
Rachel thought "If I turn this off I won't see if he rushes me."
*to be continued*
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Comments

Dude! Now I want to know more!

You built up the suspense, and left us on a cliffhanger.

Your writing style is on point, in my opinion. Certainly you could expand the story to something really deep.

In fact, the situation Rachel was undergoing felt exactly like how I see my dreams, a lot of times. So many times I wanted to expand them to a story, while I was writing my blogs, although I didn't want to add or change informations. Those were written exactly how I felt them, sometimes with very slight differences, due to memory holes.
 
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Minor criticism, but it's generally considered bad form to repetitively use the same word at the beginning of sentences. You use She and Rachel a ton.
 
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Thanks. I was writing stream of consciousness so it is not polished at all. I never even reread anything before I posted it.
 
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I think the oppressing feel of being alone in the dark and left out from friends would be a better description.
 
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