You find an old audio log and a notebook outside an old abandoned house and decide to play the recording when you get home.

“Hi, there friend or other! My name is Lea, Lea sparks and this is my essay!”

The voice of a girl comes out of the audio log as the clip cuts and plays a separate log, she starts speaking to herself.

“I have no idea anymore, what I did first was wrong now I can't pick what to do, I want to do a continuation but I frankly don't know what of, I don’t have a reason I want to do it”

“I need a better way to make ideas as that's the main issue I have with writing and literature in general. I've tried brainstorming, it just freaks me out, I've tried mind workouts, but it didn't work. I try to focus my ideas using them for work but it seems most of my ability comes in the form of odd rants, as I'm more relaxed just talking about strangest things”

“If I stop getting off-topic I could talk about the other ways I could finish this though that’d never happen, I really can't explain my desire to make something even a bit as amazing as a work I'm inspired by but I'm lazy”

“This essay is gonna be garbage.."

“Thank you for listening anyway”

the clip jumps ahead, the recording seems corrupted.

“Oh my god, Okay, I don't freaking understand what I'm supposed to do anymore. ‘Craft a meaningful text’ doesn't help me understand what I'm supposed to do. I don't know if it has to be real events I don't know if it has to be based on something I just don't understand and waiting it out is not an option. Im lacking in creativity completely, I was supposed to do this days ago but I can't because my first attempt was too awful, now I have writer's block, Yes I would like to finish before I have a complete mental shutdown but hey tha..! Wait a minute .. Could I”

“If a narrative is the telling of a story Then I might as well embrace what I have. Anything is better than a fail.. Let's try this again here we go”

"I had no ideas anymore, what I did first wasn't right now I couldn’t pick what to do, I wanted to do a continuation bt I honestly didn’t know what of, I don’t have a reason I wanted to do a continuation"

"I still need a better way to fathom ideas as that's still the main issue I have with writing and literature in general, I've tried brainstorming, but it just stresses me out, I've tried mind exercises, didn't work. I’ve tried to focus my inspiration to use it for work but it seems most of my ability comes in the form of strange rants like this one, as im more comfortable with just writing dozens or hundreds of words for the simplest or strangest things"

"If I stopped getting off-topic I could’ve talked about the other ways I could’ve done this like maybe writing the events from a different or journalistic perspective, as I talked about before I really can't explain my pure desire to make something even a bit as amazing as my favourite works"

" believe this has gone on for much too long even if I believe this is the most productive form of my stalling it is still stalling nonetheless"

“Thank you for reading" "This is Lea signing off”

“Oh my god, I did that,”

“Was it a-any good”

“Gosh, that was so stressful I almost.. nevermind”

...

“Maybe I should take a break”

“Hang out with friends”

...

“I don't have friends”

“Well back on the flimsy road that is the topic of this” “I think a story is supposed to follow a plot diagram?” "Yeah sure let's say that's right" “Sooo.. introduction I sorta have” “There's conflict” “I dunno if there's a climax”

“I guess a falling action would be being content with myself or somthin” “But that's never gonna happen” “Right?” ...

“Who am I kidding"

“Im just.. Alone”

“And.. well”

...
"nevermind"

She sighs

“I guess I should stop wasting time”

“Here we go aga.. No, I can’t do this”

“It just doesn't work I can’t turn this into a good story no matter how hard I try”

“As soon as I get somewhere I just, I hit writers' block, I mean if it's a narrative im writing what's stopping me from using.. Real-ish events in it?”

“I could diverge into an expansion of my last work that seems to be on hold indefinitely now, is there a reason why? Yes, im inept, I can’t draw and I couldn’t afford to make it”

“If you haven't figured it out by now this could go on forever about the problems I have with myself but that's not what this is about, how about we drive straight into pure fiction and write about acceptance, being content in even the slightest, so here we go again”

One bright early morning a young teen shambled out of their bed, down some stairs and into a kitchen, they made themself breakfast and slumped down on their chair. No matter how many people tried talking to them no matter how much affection they were given they still felt alone, they sat there staring off into the darkness, a pitch-black wall no one else could see or understand. They stared blankly at the wall, if they weren't breathing they’d look like they were dead. Sometimes they would imagine things that make them happy, colours, life, joy, love. A weak smile starts on their face, though it is only temporary as all their thoughts were swallowed by the darkness.

It may have been sad, but they were used to it. The fire of joy cannot last without someone to give it kindling and well, they had run out of kindling long, long ago. Their gaze stays on the wall, though it was more of a room, imagine being stranded in the depths of space, but unable to die, a void of darkness that plagues your vision eternally. They would call out for help but there was no point, no one could hear them. So they sat there in the darkness as they had done for the past several years, going through the same blankness that kept them there.

A spark flickers in the distance, barely visible from the chair, they did not know why but they had an urge, a strong urge, stronger than anything they’d ever felt. They slowly stand in the dark abyss of their shadow trying to pull them back down, normally the darkness would succeed but today was different. Pulling away from their shadow's grasp they press on, strong winds of hatred push them back, sharp spikes of doubt rain down on them piercing their weak skin but they press on. Minutes, hours, maybe even days pass, they are exhausted, bleeding and starving but the spark flares again, much closer than before.

In a mad sprint, they run with all the energy they have left dashing through physical and mental pain of ever-increasing degrees. They see it, something in the distance, some physical object that wasn't that cursed chair, in a final leap they jump over the final obstacle and come upon the structure. It was a wall, a massive colourless brick wall spanning infinitely in all directions.

“W-wh” they stutter weakly before clutching their sore throat, going so long without using their voice had a negative toll on them. “N-no… NO!” they scream smashing their fist against the wall, all of it, all that work, all that effort all for nothing. Tears fall from their eyes, their expression defeated. Colour drains from their skin as their shadow creeps back upon them.

They don’t struggle as it takes hold and starts dragging them back to the chair, tears falling as they start to lose sight of the wall, but something unexpected happens. The wall cracks, scars on the broken stone growing outward up the wall, they look up at the cracks, a spark of hope grows inside them, their eyes start regaining colour than their skin and clothes. Light begins to shine in from one of the many cracks, glowing like a beam burning away the darkness it touched, as the crack grows their shadow pulls harder, more cracks of light form as they stand their ground, the shadow clawing at them and pulling with all its might. They grab their shadow and walk towards a pool of light forming on a near-surface.

The beast’s claws dig deep in their arms as it tries to escape, but it was no use, for the first time in eternity they felt hope, they felt joy, they felt pure love. Shoving the shadow creature into the light it screams in pure agony, all that concentrated darkness and hatred slowly burning away. The beast shrivels into dust as the wall crumbles, colours flooding in from all directions, the light burning all the hatred and suffering away.

They stand up from their chair, place their bowl in the sink and smile with the purest joy anyone can imagine before skipping to the door, for the first time in ages they had a choice that wasn't rigged both ways, they did it they overcame the one thing stopping them from living, their own self. Faced with her options they cry, not of sadness but of joy. For once they looked outside they did something they never thought they’d do.

The teen turned around, went upstairs and headed to bed, they accomplished something that felt impossible before they sat down that dull morning, they cared for themself. Resting their head down on a pillow it wasn’t long before they were fast asleep.. 

“Yeah, that's not how the story goes.. how could someone like me write something happy.. So here's one last thing.. What really happened to them, what really happened to her..”

One bright early morning a young teen shambled out of her bed, down some stairs and into a kitchen, she made themself breakfast and slumped down on her chair. No matter how many people tried talking to her no matter how much affection she was given she still felt alone, she sat there staring off into the darkness, a pitch-black wall no one else could see or understand. She stared blankly at the wall, if she wasn't breathing she’d look like she was dead. Sometimes she would imagine things that make her happy, colours, life, joy, love a weak smile starts on her face, though it is only temporary as all her thoughts were swallowed by the darkness.

It may have been sad, but she was used to it. The fire of joy cannot last without someone to give it kindling and well, she had run out of kindling long, long ago. Her gaze stays on the wall, though it was more of an abyss, imagine being stranded in the depths of space, but unable to die, a void of darkness that plagues your vision eternally. She would call out for help but there was no point, no one could hear her. So she sat there in the darkness as she had done for the past several years, going through the same blankness that kept her there.

A spark flickers in the distance, barely visible from the chair, she did not know why but she had an urge, a strong urge, stronger than anything she’d ever felt. she slowly stood in the dark abyss her shadow trying to pull her back down, normally the darkness would succeed but today was different. Pulling away from her shadow's grasp she presses on, strong winds of hatred push her back, sharp spikes of doubt rain down on her piercing her weak skin but they press on. Minutes, hours, maybe even days pass, she was exhausted, bleeding and starving but the spark flared again, much closer than before.

In a mad sprint, she ran with all the energy she had left dashing through physical and mental pain of increasing degrees. They see it, something in the distance, some physical object that wasn't that cursed chair, in a final leap she jumped over the final obstacle and come upon the structure. It was a wall, a massive colourless brick wall spanning infinitely in all directions.

“W-wh” she stuttered weakly before clutching her sore throat, going so long without using her voice had a negative toll on her. “N-no… NO!” she screams smashing her fist against the wall, all of it, all that work all that effort all for nothing. Tears fall from her eyes, their expression defeated. Colour drains from her skin as her shadow creeps back upon her.

She doesn't struggle as it takes hold and starts dragging her back to the chair, tears falling as she starts to lose sight of the wall, but this time no cracks, no fake joy, the light was nothing more than a mirage, no one to save her, the shadows drag her back though not the way she came or at least not how she first saw it. The shadows dragged her body across the rough sharp ground, intent on showing her the place she was meant to be in the line she was meant to follow.

The discipline came in many different forms, verbal, physical, and mental. There was no one to save her, the spark was all but an illusion of her previous life, before the shadows arrived it was a pretty nice place, her creative mindset creating virtually infinite possibilities stretching farther than any eye could see. But one day a new light entered the girl’s life, someone they never knew could exist. And for a time she was the happiest she could ever be, though no good things last forever. Despite her best attempts, her obsession with light corrupted her, and the balance shifted. She hurt the new light so it left, with all the old life with it. The one expansive landscape of wonders turned barren black desert of pain.

She knew it was her fault, she knew it was her own doing, tears filled the girl's eyes as she weakly clung to the memories she had left, but as they slipped from her grasp, it got harder and harder for her to breathe, like something tight and rough was around her throat, she bawled out her eyes one last time as she squirmed, the darkness became more fluid than solid, she sank deeper and deeper into the dark inescapable pit, the squirming only making her sink faster until the final moment, she breathed one last time before the darkness flooded her lungs. The squirming stopped before the world itself began to fade. her lifeless body floating, hanging in the void as she was all but forgotten, no afterlife, no heaven, no hell.

Someone unlocked her door, it seemed they had been ringing the doorbell for a while, though when they entered it had already been too late, they panicked over the girl, the girl who thought no one cared for her, if the person, if the friend had entered just a little bit sooner maybe they could have saved her. But this didn’t happen, the friend cried as the girl was lost forever.

“Are you happy.. That's what really happened.. What am I saying.. I’m not even real, talking to myself in this endless expanse of nothingness, pretending to be a writer, pretending to be important, pretending I’m in school, pretending I’m alive. It's been months, years, decades since it happened I stopped counting. I have to keep myself occupied somehow I guess.”

“If there's anyone out there who is ever to find this recording.. I thank you for listening to my story”

She held her recorder close before throwing it as hard as she could into the void, the device flying away as she closed her eyes, that was it, she had done it, she didn’t think anyone would find it and she might have been right. If it wasn’t for you finding it outside an old abandoned house her story would have been forgotten entirely. She would thank you if she could, maybe she’s still in the void somewhere. Waiting, watching, or maybe you finding it was what she needed for peace. Though one will never know as you walked home, sat down and turned on the recording, starting The Loop.