Authors Note
Writing this creative short story was by far the greatest assignment I feel I've been given, personally. Being able to deeply explain my emotions and attempt to incorporate some of the writing techniques we have learned so far, I felt I could write a very personal story (from my past, of course), while fully and truly expressing everything I have had built up inside.
My body sprawled out onto my
stomach; my wilted limbs crashed against the ice cold bathroom floor in the
basement of a boy whose last name I could not recall. The stench of the air
within that jail cell that I could not escape did not compare to that of on my
shirt, my hair, and my hands that were covered in a color I could not make out;
red maybe? Though my body found difficulty obeying the commands my brain had
sent, my thoughts had stayed in the same place that had begun that night;
unable to move a single muscle, in a helpless state of desperation, my
conscious attacked my essentially innocent mind until the room stopped spinning
and the blurred colors turned black.
---
My home resembles a prison. A number
of statues stroll from room to room, blank expressions drawn across their
mouths; their presence not only undesirable, but unnoticeable at times. A
shiver trickles down my spine and shoots back chills throughout my body. Nothing
is missing but something is not where it needs to be. A slam of my door allots
for me hours of silence- enunciating not that I have anyplace better to be, but
that I would rather be any place but here. My fingers click-clack across the
keyboard until they bleed. My ears bizz-buzz, ringing from music I do not like
to listen to- but everyone else does, so I listen. My eyes zig-zag, scanning
the computer screen, faster and faster; then slower and slower, until the
figures start to morph; then blur; then fade.
Five of us are together- Friday
night, just waiting, waiting for
something to happen. One hum of a cell phone and we felt our lives start down a
new path, toward somewhere none of us knew. All hell broke loose. Flashes of
different colors flew past my eyes; the clink and clatter of brushes and
hairspray bottles irritated my ears- still exulting in a sense of excitement.
Hot tears welled in my eyes as the assortment of scents emanated their fumes
into my system, initiating a head ache that I so desperately attempted to
ignore. My head was already spinning in circles imagining where it is we were
going, what it was going to be like, what was going to happen…
Gravel stones bolted at the tires
like darts under my feet in slow motion for what felt like hours but with the
blink of an eye the car door crashed like a grenade in the desert. People were
everywhere: singing, screaming, shoving. The older kids made jokes toward us,
doubting us. Before I could remember putting even a single cup toward my lips I
opened my eyes face down on the floor; my head spinning and my body shaking. My
stomach made a curdling noise so unsettling there was no way it came come from
a human being. My face absorbed water like a sponge, as my head lifted from the
floor- I could only picture my body, dead as one could be while still alive, searching
for breaths through the pool of my own tears. My heart and my head were back
wherever I could feel safe- in that moment my thoughts were back in my home. My
home of solitude and silence, with the strolling statues- their oblivion toward
me provided still more comfort than the level of acceptance I felt here. Cold,
queasy feelings of disappointment flush my insides with a poison that will make
me feel worse than I did in this moment; my mind was lost.
My head may have been in the clouds,
or glued to the ground, but my mind slowly floated back into place. While I
myself knew in this moment of clarity what must be done, my still somewhat
twisted mind could not wrap it’s conscious around the concept that people could
live lives like these and not feel this sickness, this guilt, this pain,
everyday. Something snapped in me this night and it was not the toxic inside causing
damage, but a snap back to actuality and where my capabilities truly lie. My stomach
squeezes again. But I am feeling a sensation of guilt- and want not to live yet
a life like this. In one night living my life, I lived it all. My mind, with no
exceptions, had modified itself. Never again will I feel knives slicing at my
spleen like the slash of a tire. Never again will I suffer again the way I am
right now: squirming, uneasy, vulnerable- like a fish out of water. Never again
will I ever lie helplessly on the floor watching my life and opportunities be
flushed in front of my eyes. My stomach seemed hollow as a log, for everything
once inside pooled in a bowl inches before my face. This is not the person I came
to this earth to be; there has to be a more something more. I am better than this; I am stronger than this…
---
A shudder of comfort and discomfort
quivered through my stomach. Tossing and turning, spinning and swaying- it made
me dizzy. It was dark again. The battle unreeling my eyelids from one another
revealed a haze of figures that puzzled me. A cocoon of blankets held me tight,
sending my senses a rush of protection- yet some level of helplessness. The
beaming rays of sun peek through the curtains, burning my eyes. Voices chirped
like birds at the crack of dawn- squeaking loudly of our experiences and
reliving the night. No matter how tight my eyes shut closed and no matter how
fast my brain ran in circles, searching my files, looking for answers, the only
conclusion resolved ended with the prescription of an Advil. The previous night
appeared in my vision as a cloudy blur; not even one story told sparked a flame
of remembrance. All I could do at this point would be to take their word; I guess
I had a good time.
