Updated: May 10
Hello Raga-Rootlings, it has been some time since I have posted anything. So today, I decided to do a writing prompt, one I posted on reddit for fun.
The prompt is: You are a spirit trapped inside a blank book, you have been living in a blank void for many years, that is until someone began drawing on your book.
This is not my original prompt since I got it from r/writingprompts, however, I thought it would be enjoyable to share with you all. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.
The world was bleak. Nothing but weightlessness and nothingness had plagued my world for only how many years now. I wish I could end it, to finally put a stop to the spiraling emptiness that enveloped me. Yet, I could not. It was a prison in which I could never escape—no reprieve for the eternity that seemed to slip by endlessly. I cried, yelled, screamed, and still, there was no solace until the fateful day when the world snapped into a bright light. I trembled, unsure of what had suddenly eclipsed the world I rule. I was frozen, unable to speak or move as the glow warmed my face. What is this magic?
Suddenly without warning, a black line crossed the surface of the light. It twisted and turned in the sky, taking form into shape. I stared in awe at the creation appearing before me. The outline of a tiger, or at least what I could remember one to look like, spread out across the world. It was marvelous. The god in the sky had blessed me with something otherworldly. I felt a tear slip down my cheek.
Just when I thought it was all I would be blessed with since the linework had halted, blotches of color dripped into the spaces. It was like watching water drops hit a glass window before crawling outwards into larger spheres. Without delay for the paint to dry, it was brushed across the canvas sky. The thin black lines were smudged away by the water-like colors as they softened into the color. Oranges, yellows, red hues blended and mixed like a melodic melody. The soft, warm colors whispered soft tenor as the dark, cold colors sharpened the beat like bass. Every moment I was mesmerized until the sky had been completely filled. Moments passed as I stared with slack jaw at the wondrous art before me. It was benevolent.
When I thought the show had stopped, a slight breeze took hold, blowing against my face as it dried the watercolors. I smiled, closing my eyes to soak it all in. After centuries, I had come alive again, had a purpose. Felt desire. I wanted to know who this god was. I stood up from the floor, reaching towards the heavens, whispering, “This is amazing. Who are you?”
I waited for a reply as the breeze stopped short. With a lurch, the tiger-filled sky snapped, turning black with a thunderous bang. I fell to the ground with a yelp, unprepared by the drastic change in light. Rubbing my bottom with a sigh, I realized how startling it might have seemed to the god. It was not often they possessed a book with a spirit like me. Doubt crept deep within my soul. Will they ever open the pages again? Had I just scared away the only escape from my loneliness? Preparing to numb myself once more to the dark and terrible void once more, the page opened only slightly as the white showed through a cracked open door. I looked up with wonder, hopeful once more.
“Hello, little god. Don’t be frightened. I just want to meet you, is all.”
The page opened brightly once more as I stared up at the blank sky. Warmly I smiled with a chuckle. “We will do great things together.”