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Rated: E · Short Story · Paranormal · #2319867
The thoughts of a man trapped in a cave and awaiting rescue.
I've never really understood why people close the eyes of the dead.


Ok, I get that it's disturbing to sit around while what is essentially a decaying doll stares at you with its glassy, boundless gaze. Because white it sounds a bit nauseatingly poetic, it does make sense. But why not just say that, instead of "it's putting them to rest"? Why try to disguise a reasonable, selfish act as a baseless selfless one? What difference does it make, whether their eyes are open or closed, that it prevents their soul from resting? Aren't they dead just the same?

Nevertheless, as I stare at the remains of what used to be a cave entrance, (doubling as the exit, because of course it is) I can't help but wonder if there will be anyone to close mine.

The space was a few inches away from cramped and, naturally, located deep underground.

Very deep.

That's not the worrying bit. I wouldn't even be here if I didn't find a strange comfort in being underground. (Something about being surrounded by the pure, uncorrupted-by-man nature is unbelievably soothing.) No, I'm not worried about that. But the fact that I don't know the extent of damage done to the tunnel by the earthquake that trapped me here? Not exactly comforting. Or encouraging, for that matter. There's a breeze though, which is something. And besides, I'm sure that, sooner or later, someone will find me.


It's been a few days. No sign yet of... really anything.

Nothing besides a rather curious worm.

How do worms find food? Can they sense it, or see it? (but where are their eyes?) I can't believe I've never thought to ask that question, much less to find the answer.

Regardless, the worm appears to be able to sense something at least, seeing as I've been watching it try to dig through a wall for the past couple days. I almost went to try and help it, but that would have simply been an exercise in futility. And regardless, it seems to be making progress on its own.

Do a worm's eyes (if they have them) need to close for it to rest after death?

I try to close my eyes and imagine what that's like.


I don't think anyone's coming.

I think I'm going crazy - it feels like my thoughts are going in circles.

I've been practicing closing my eyes.

I stare at the room. I've memorized every crack, every rock, every shadow- not that there's much light. Just shadows on shadows on shadows on...

The worm made it through the wall. It was shockingly thin. I still see it - can I see through walls? Through walls through walls...

Singing it right makes it blend into a single word: threwalls threwalls...
(what was the original word again? - or was it words...)

The worm's moving across the wall. I watch as it moves painstakingly across. I watch as the wall becomes thicker and thinner, as it moves up and down as if it were truly a valley made up of hills and mountains. It's strangely patchy, as if someone dug out random parts of the original stone and haphazardly shoved a discolored substance in it's place.

I watch as the wall rounds out before becoming jagged like shattered.. shattered...
(what is shatter?)

I watch as the worm di-


I watch as the worm digs into my eye.
(boundless gaze of a doll-)

I watch until I'm fairly certain whatever I was entranced by was gone.
(where am i, again?)
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