The Urge | Teen Ink

The Urge

September 1, 2013
By Anonymous

Night after night, same old nightmare; as I walked down a dark passage, each step I took brought me closer to that bright comforting light, but just as I seem to be reaching the end, arms lunge out from the disappearing floor, hands clung onto my leggings. I struggled and screamed as they pulled me down into the dark abyss that was awaiting for me bellow.
I woke up kicking and screaming only to find that I was in a hospital. As I look around me; the hospital ward was deserted, silent and eerie. I tried to move, but my body felt so heavy, so numb. My arms would just drag along my side, hanging there by my waist. All I could manage to do I could only manage to stumble along, steadily staggering at a tedious pace. I proceeded to the reception desk. I felt normal. I couldn’t remember a thing about why and how I had come to be in the hospital.
I tried to ask the receptionist what was going on. But all that came out of my mouth was my mumblings. The receptionist looked up from her phone conversation. The look in her eye was strange, she screamed.
She leaped out of her seat and ran for the door screaming. I lunched forward grabbing her arm and turned her round. The urge was too much. She screamed again, and struggled as she tried to escape from my grasp. The urge was controlling my actions.
Finally she stopped struggling; finally she gave in to the Urge and joined me. The urge had taken over her mind, and now she and I walked down the hallway side by side.
The urge’s control over our minds increased. As we went further and further into the hospital, we made ‘more friends’. And the more ‘friends’ we made, the more control the urge had over us. By the time we exited the hospital, me and my new ‘friends’ now numbered over fifty. We seemed to be growing like a wild fire. But still the urge within us, wanted more and more. The urge wanted to increase its control over this ‘pathetic’, ‘weak’ and ‘vulnerable’ species.
But this species was not as weak or pathetic as the urge had thought it once was. We as human kind are very intelligent and very adaptable to new information and scientific data. I count myself as one, but in reality I had already lost the fight.

When we reached the end of the hospitals boundaries, there was a large mob of people in weird clothes waiting for us. They wore clothing that only a hunter would wear if they were going to stalk their prey.
They began shooting at us. The bullets penetrated our flesh, but in our minds they were only shooting us with paintballs.
A few of us managed to escape, Some managed to make even more ‘friends’ with some of the strange mob, before being killed. The rest were killed before they could do anything.

I was one of the lucky ones. I managed to escape. I managed to get away from the aggressive mob. I stumbled my way onto a high street. People were staring at me as if I was a freak.
I tried to make new ‘friends’, but every time I got close to anyone, they screamed, pushed me away and ran away. They called me harsh words like “Monster”, “Freak” and “Crazy”. Even the lonely hobos ran away from me. I always thought they wanted to make more friends.

I stumbled towards a group of young women who were gossiping and laughing. But their laughter turned to screams as they saw me getting closer. One pulled out something from her handbag a small object of what looked to be a small water pistol. I thought that if the worst was to come, ‘my new friend’ the Urge, would protect me from harm. A flash, a bang, something hit me in the head, and then I was put out of my misery.


The author's comments:
This piece came to mind when a friend and I were discussing a different idea, and

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