Creative Piece

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.

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            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…

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            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.