Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Convicted Imagination
Imagine a cell, barred with bars of the strongest metal to be sure that what it contains does not escape. Within the cell resides creatures and scenery of the most vibrant nature. A river of the deepest aqua slices through a feild containing emerald blades of grass. A tree holding endless amounts of limbs reaches towards a golden sun which bathes each item in a most glorious light. Throughout the scene leaps creatures both known and unknown. An elf jumps from one of the many limbs of the tree and races to a dragon waiting in the water. At the wings of the dragon fly pixies and butterflies whom sparkle a diamond dust which shimmers in the sun's vibrant light. Everything pauses as a door opens in the castle which stands on the edge of the flowing river, the holder of this world (the queen), emerges. She walks with a man who belongs to a world unlike this one. His colour is dull and with each step, drakness seems to fall upon the ground. He stops and gazes at the beautiful queen as he reaches to his sheath. In one swift motion, he pulls a black blade and plunges it into the heart of the queen. She falls to the ground and darkness begins to envelop the land. The man walks to the cell door and draws a ring of keys from his pocket. He leaves, locking the door and this magical world forever. All of this resides in the clouded mind of a child. She sits in a class with dull walls and harsh lights. In front of her stands a teacher in a gloomy, arrogant state. His clothes are that of a dull nature and his temper portrudes darkness upon the class He turns to one side and as he does, he reaches into his black sheath and pulls a piece of chalk. He writes on the board in one dreary motion, and in that motion the girl's imagination is forever locked up, unable to escape it's metal bars.
Stained Part One
My mother constantly asks me why I only wear black. I don't tell her the reason because the reason would surely make me one of the world's greatest oddities. Instead, I shrug and walk away from her quizzing eyes. So now instead of thinking of me as an oddity, she worries about me in a way that a mother worries whether or not her child is doing drugs. I wear black because it's the only "colour" I can see. I was nine when I realized I was the only person who could see what I see. Up until then, I just thought the world was dirty, stained with a liquid that would not wash off. It was everywhere. I would walk down the streets of my city and see it splattered on the cement sidewalk, and dripping down the walls of alleyways. The only problem was, at that time in my life, I did not know what IT was. I didn't ask my mother for I thought it was just something normal because IT was everywhere. Then came that day in fourth grade, I call it my day of discovery, it was also the day of my first fight. My teacher had wandered into the boy's washroom only to find a group of sixth graders circled around my bruised body curled in a ball on the floor. My teacher quickly stopped their kicking and sent them to the principal's office, I was sent to the nurse with a swollen arm and a bloody nose. I was trying to get them to see the stain splattered across the washroom sink but they couldn't see it, instead they called me a liar and pushed me to the floor. The nurse frowned at me as she cleaned up my face. My eyes stayed glued to the ground. I felt a drop of blood drip over my lips and onto my chin, hanging there for just a moment before releasing and falling to the ground. "Whoopsies." The nurse exclaimed, grabbing a cloth and bending down to wipe the droplet from the floor. I watched the cloth wipe lazily over the spot and as she removed it and pushed herself up off the ground, my whole body froze. A stain remained where the drop had been, a stain much like those plastering my city. Those stains were not placed there by something as nonchalant as rain, it was blood. I was seeing not blood that existed now but blood that had been washed in an effort of removal. That was the day I learned I was not like everyone else and also the day I learned I could not talk about it.
Nightmares
There is a young girl who sits at the back of room three hundred and two in Miss Sarah’s grade five class and she does not speak. Whenever Miss Sarah makes the vague, hopeless attempt at appointing the girl to answer a question, the girl does not answer with sound but instead with a sad, helpless frown. To the other children in the class, this poor speechless girl was an oddity. They could not grasp the idea that some girl their own age could not use words as they could. To Miss Sarah, the problem lied in the hands of the girl’s parents. She had only met the strange couple once and it had not been a pleasant encounter. The father, a wiry man with a pointed nose equipped with moustache and wart, only grunted whenever Miss Sarah would bring up the topic of his little girl’s problem. The wife, an over-bloated woman wearing too much makeup, glared and snarled at the teacher. So during class time, Miss Sarah felt it her duty to mother the child and make her as comfortable as possible. Her efforts on the other hand, were no help. The girl still wore the blank frown which cloaked her face each day. The girl was a mystery to Miss Sarah and all those around her.
Miss Sarah closed her folder and looked up at the children quietly reading their books all except for the young girl at the back of the room whose dark, emotionless eyes were glued to the window of the classroom. Suddenly the end of the day bell rang and all at once the children arose from their seats and left the classroom. Except for the girl who slowly left the classroom alone, Miss Sarah’s eyes watching worriedly. The girl walked to the cloakroom, took her long black coat and boots, put them on and slowly walked out of the school. Many giddy, laughing children passed in a hurry as the girl walked down the sidewalk, each of them frowning at the dark gothic looking home situated at the top of a winding cobblestone drive. It was at this drive that the little girl stopped at turned, walking up to her gloomy home. She reached the door of the house just as the sun began to creep behind the hills in the distance. As the girl walked into the house and kicked off her boots, she did not bother to call to her parents to let them know she was home. Instead, she walked up the winding staircase to the very top of the tower which was attached to her home and entered her empty room. Sadly, she crept over to her bed, threw off her coat and slid under the sheets just as her room became engulfed in darkness. She laid her eyes wide and awaited the familiar sound of the key turning in the lock of her bedroom door.
The girl’s mother put the key in the pocket of her house coat and scurried down the stairs to the bottom floor of the home where her husband waited in their queen sized bed wearing the same worried face that his wife did. As his wife slid under the sheets of her bed and her husband flicked off the light, both of the little girl’s parents shut their eyes and put their guilt ridden thoughts aside, welcoming their dreamless sleep.
The little girl lay in her bed and stared at the black ceiling of her room, her eye lids heavy and fighting with her mind to close. But she snapped them back open, her fear over powering her fatigue. Eventually though, as it happens every night, the fatigue would win the battle, the little girl’s eyelids would close. And the girl would give herself to the nightmares which take hold of her body each night. And the screams would begin forever parching her throat and taking away the voice which is never heard.
Miss Sarah closed her folder and looked up at the children quietly reading their books all except for the young girl at the back of the room whose dark, emotionless eyes were glued to the window of the classroom. Suddenly the end of the day bell rang and all at once the children arose from their seats and left the classroom. Except for the girl who slowly left the classroom alone, Miss Sarah’s eyes watching worriedly. The girl walked to the cloakroom, took her long black coat and boots, put them on and slowly walked out of the school. Many giddy, laughing children passed in a hurry as the girl walked down the sidewalk, each of them frowning at the dark gothic looking home situated at the top of a winding cobblestone drive. It was at this drive that the little girl stopped at turned, walking up to her gloomy home. She reached the door of the house just as the sun began to creep behind the hills in the distance. As the girl walked into the house and kicked off her boots, she did not bother to call to her parents to let them know she was home. Instead, she walked up the winding staircase to the very top of the tower which was attached to her home and entered her empty room. Sadly, she crept over to her bed, threw off her coat and slid under the sheets just as her room became engulfed in darkness. She laid her eyes wide and awaited the familiar sound of the key turning in the lock of her bedroom door.
The girl’s mother put the key in the pocket of her house coat and scurried down the stairs to the bottom floor of the home where her husband waited in their queen sized bed wearing the same worried face that his wife did. As his wife slid under the sheets of her bed and her husband flicked off the light, both of the little girl’s parents shut their eyes and put their guilt ridden thoughts aside, welcoming their dreamless sleep.
The little girl lay in her bed and stared at the black ceiling of her room, her eye lids heavy and fighting with her mind to close. But she snapped them back open, her fear over powering her fatigue. Eventually though, as it happens every night, the fatigue would win the battle, the little girl’s eyelids would close. And the girl would give herself to the nightmares which take hold of her body each night. And the screams would begin forever parching her throat and taking away the voice which is never heard.
The Dream Room
I was ten when my parents died and I moved in with Jane. Her parents, John and Diane Young, were my god parents and so over the years of family get-togethers and birthdays, Jane and I came to be slow and bearable friends. Slow, because she lived two hours from my home and only bearable, because she seemed to be more interested in the vanity of life and I was interested in books and school.
I remember in great detail, sitting in the front seat of the Young family van with a sullen look on my face as John drove up to my new home. It was just after the funeral, Diane and Jane had left in a separate car right after the ceremony to prepare for me so it was just John and I in the car. Not one of us spoke a word on out way to the house.
I had been to the Young house only once before but that was when I was four so I didn’t remember the intimidation that the house shadowed on the those standing in its yard or the wonder that crept into your stomach as you were led throughout the house’s twisting hallways and winding stairs. Branching off of the house covered in dark brown stone, were three towers, one of which was taller than the rest and held Jane’s room within its walls.
My mother had often told me of the history of the house and the surprise that she had experienced when she learned that her best friend John had bought such a strange place. It had been built by a very rich astronomer who often told villagers that his tallest tower could reach the stars and soon he would leave the solid ground of Earth. After a while, the villagers deemed him insane and soon he was out of work with a mental label permanently pressed into his life. The house was abandoned after the astronomer was admitted into an institution and it stayed that way for fifty years until John, being a famous, book writing psychologist, purchased the place for less than it was worth in an effort to clean up the town.
When I walked through the doors of the house dressed in my black dress and shoes, Diane greeted me with very large smile that couldn’t possibly have been real given the circumstances.
“Abigail!” She cried giving me a stronger than usual hug, “We’re so glad you’ve come to stay with us! Those nights in the orphanage must have been just awful.”
“Don’t remind her of that Diane.” John said sternly as he carried my suitcase in from the car, “She has enough on her mind already.”
Diane’s hand snapped to her mouth, “Oh right, I was just trying to…” Her voice trailed off for a slight moment, “Oh well, I’ve put you in Jane’s room just for a couple of nights until we can finish decorating your room.”
My face frown dropped lower than it already was. Jane and I had become friends, bearable friends but I wasn’t exactly willing to be in the same room as her for an extended period of time. Her vain and naïve ways didn’t mix well with my practicality.
Nevertheless, Diane took my hand and led me up two stairways to Jane’s room who greeted us with a half hearted smile as she lay on her bed reading a magazine.
“Here you are Abigail, you can catch up with Jane while I make our supper.” Diane said giving me a nudge and then she was gone.
Jane had two beds. She had always had two beds and she always told me she had two beds just to rub in the fact that she was rich but in truth, the beds weren’t bought by her wealthy father, they had come with the house. Two iron frames elegantly bent into sweeping, fanatical designs at the head of each of them.
Diane had added the two pink bedspreads. I scowled at the colour. It was Jane’s favourite.
“You can have that bed of course.” Jane said pointing to the bed closest to me, it had only one pillow and Jane’s had five.
I smiled slightly and threw the teddy bear that I had been carrying onto the pillow. It’s scruffy brown fur looked horrible next to the bright pink of the bed. I sighed and sat down on the bed’s edge, it was only for a few days. But it wasn’t.
Two weeks had passed and I was still in Jane’s pink kingdom but somehow I seemed to endure it. I got used to her constant glances at mirrors, her insane obsession with makeup, and her hour long conversations with friends.
One stormy day, we were both sitting on her floor between the two beds reading. I had a novel and Jane, a magazine. Lightning flashed outside filling the room with light and it was soon followed by an incredibly loud thunderclap. I jumped in my spot and hit my head on the side of the iron frame of the bed. Clutching my head, I rolled onto my stomach and winced in pain. It was then that I noticed the flat foot of the bed frame and the rusty bolt that lay directly in the center of it.
“Jane, why is the bed bolted to the floor?” I asked incredibly curious.
Jane shrugged, “I don’t know, daddy says it was like that when we moved in.”
I stared at the foot for a while until another thunderclap sounded and the single light in Jane’s room went black.
The rest of the night each one of us carried a candle with us wherever we went. I found it incredible as it reminded me of the times before electricity when candles were the only source of light. Jane found it depressing and all she did was mope.
When the time for bed came around the corner, the storm still remained in the sky and its thunder and lighting was just as intense but somehow each of us seemed to bend the loud noise into a bearable lullaby and soon we were all fast asleep.
I woke to the loudest sound I had ever heard and the house shaking. A picture that was hung on the wall fell between the back of my bed frame and the wall, its glass shattering all across the floor. I lay stunned until Diane ran in the room with a candle.
“It was just a tree falling dears! No need to be afraid.” she called from the door and then she was gone. There was no notice of the broken picture or the fact that both Jane and I were scared out of our wits in our beds.
I slowly lay my head back on the pillow and Jane did the same. Soon the storm ended and the room was filled with Jane’s soft snores instead of thunder. I gazed up at the ceiling noticing something that wasn’t there before. It hung where the broken picture had been and it looked oddly like a chain on a lamp that you could pull to make the light switch on.
I looked over at Jane to check if she was asleep, and she was so very slowly I reached my hand up and pulled the chain expecting a light in the room to turn on, but nothing did. So concluding that the electricity was still off, I put my head disappointedly back on my pillow. Then a rumble began to fill the room. I quickly raised my head and scanned the room to look for the cause, but couldn’t find anything. My eyes fell on Jane who still remained fast asleep. In panic, I looked up and the ceiling and gasped for I had found the source of the rumble.
Slowly and evenly the ceiling of the tower began to spread apart, splitting in the center to reveal a blanket of stars. My eyes continued to stare at the new sight hypnotized by the beauty of the moon, the stars, and the milky way, until over a period of time my eye lids became heavy and closed leaving me in a deep sleep.
I woke in the morning to the sound of the morning birds chirping outside of Jane’s window and I quickly looked up to the ceiling with its white even plaster. There was no sign of a tear in the centre or along any of the walls and the picture was back on the wall behind my head, there was no chain. It was only a dream, I thought to myself as I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way downstairs.
Months passed and with them came the depression of the loss of my parents and the constant fighting of Diane and John. My room never came and soon I became a sullen zombie remaining only in a world that was within myself. I began to notice changes in Jane as well. Her walls became plastered in bands with anarchist slogans and her cloths started to smell of smoke and her breath of alcohol. She was making her way to the dark side as a result of her parents fighting and she was taking me with her.
We both cut our hair short and cropped then dyed it black. Our nails, eyes, and clothes also sported the same dark colour and soon the pink bedspreads were gone and Jane was coming home with piercing. I could never push myself that far though for I didn’t take pleasure in destroying my body with glittering studs. I took pleasure in destroying my wrists with scars that would remain for decades.
My interest in school and books fell along with my dreams and aspirations. The only thing that remained was my depression which seemed to grow each year.
On the night of my fifteenth birthday, Diane and John’s arguing filled the bottoms floors of the large house forcing Jane and I to stay in our room. We sat on our beds, she with her many piercing and now black and purple hair, and I with my long choppy black hair and my wrists covered in bracelets to hide my scars.
Jane giggled mischievously for a minute and then jumped to her book bag which carried anything but books. She dug around for a while inside of it until she withdrew a small plastic bag that held a strange substance looking much like oregano. In a separate bag were two long papered thing with resembled cigarettes.
“I bought this for us for your birthday.” she said with a grin.
I looked at the things trying to figure out what it was finally I gave up and just asked. Jane looked at me strangely then laughed,
“I thought you were serious for a minute!” She cried as she lit one of the cigarette looking things with a lighter, took a drag, then handed it to me. “Here.” she said.
I had only smoked once before. It was when Jane’s parents were fighting especially loud one night and she said she needed to relax so she took out a cigarette and I decided I needed to calm down too. But this strange cigarette like thing was nothing like the cigarette. It was different somehow. I laughed for the first time in what seemed like months and even though I knew it was false, I felt happy and calmed. Then slowly the feelings were replaced by empty ones and my depression grew. I found myself yearning for my mothers touch and her face would linger in front of me making me want to hug both her and my dad even more.
Jane who was having the opposite reaction jumped up from her spot on the bed and announced that she was starving so she ran to the door to get some food, one her way she stumbled into the name plate on her door and then ran out of the room.
I was left feeling even more alone than usual and tears soon made their way down my cheeks. I wiped them away and looked to the spot that Jane had hit the door. The name plate had fallen down and the paint beneath it had become warn over the years. I could make out one wispy letter beneath the paint from where I was sitting so I got up and wandered dizzily to the door. It said something underneath the paint and I was deathly curious as to what it was so I scratched off the rest of the paint and stared awestruck at the spot.
“The Dream Room.” I whispered reading the lettering then I heard footsteps running up the stairs so I quickly put the name plate back on the door and ran to my bed.
Jane appeared with a giant bag of chips and an even bigger smile on her face.
“I had a great idea while downstairs!” She said, “We should move your bed together with mine!”
I stared at her for a minute then shook my head, “But what about the bolts?”
“That’s why I brought these!” she said holding up a wide variety of tools.
The next half an hour was spent attempting to remove the bolts from the feet of my bed using every tool imaginable until finally our two beds were side by side and we were sitting on the beds eating chips and smoking.
“Do you ever miss your parents?” Jane asked as she stared up at the ceiling.
I looked at her with shock, she’d never asked a kind of question like this before.
“Every moment of the day.” I answered and then I fell quiet.
“What are you thinking about?” Jane asked as she shut her eyes.
“I was wondering where they were.”
“Who?”
“My parents.”
“I’d say they’re up there,” She said pointing up, “They’ve gone to the stars.”
I smiled and shut my eyes, “You really think so?” I asked but the only sound that filled the room was Jane’s soft snoring. Then soon I too was in a deep sleep.
It was the first night I had dreamt of my parents since their death. My mom was floating in the sky holding hands with my dad and they were beckoning me to join them but I couldn’t because I was being weighted on the Earth and was unable to float. I cried out for them, tears rolling down my cheeks but they just floated away leaving me behind.
I woke in a cold sweat and looked up at the ceiling as my eyes filled with tears, the yearning in my stomach grew stronger and then I noticed it. The picture was gone and the strange chain was back. I smiled and wiped the tears away. I reached my hand over to wear the chain was and pulled it wanting to escape. The rumble returned and once again the ceiling opened to reveal the starlit sky. I smiled and closed my eyes thinking of my parents. Soon my body began to feel weightless and I opened my eyes.
My bed wasn’t on the ground anymore. I was floating up through the opening in the tower and I didn’t’ panic for this is what I wanted. I wanted to escape. I kept my eyes on the stars up above and allowed a new feeling of happiness to take over my body. Two hands took each of my own and looked beside me to find both of my parents sitting on the bed with me. Tears of happiness began to roll uncontrollably down my face and I didn’t wipe them away for I didn’t want to let go of my parents hands. They both kissed my forehead and looked up to the stars. I did the same.
An astronomer once said that his tower could reach the stars and that soon he would leave the earth. Sadly he was deemed insane by the villagers and admitted into an institution. But what the villagers didn’t know, was that he was right.
I remember in great detail, sitting in the front seat of the Young family van with a sullen look on my face as John drove up to my new home. It was just after the funeral, Diane and Jane had left in a separate car right after the ceremony to prepare for me so it was just John and I in the car. Not one of us spoke a word on out way to the house.
I had been to the Young house only once before but that was when I was four so I didn’t remember the intimidation that the house shadowed on the those standing in its yard or the wonder that crept into your stomach as you were led throughout the house’s twisting hallways and winding stairs. Branching off of the house covered in dark brown stone, were three towers, one of which was taller than the rest and held Jane’s room within its walls.
My mother had often told me of the history of the house and the surprise that she had experienced when she learned that her best friend John had bought such a strange place. It had been built by a very rich astronomer who often told villagers that his tallest tower could reach the stars and soon he would leave the solid ground of Earth. After a while, the villagers deemed him insane and soon he was out of work with a mental label permanently pressed into his life. The house was abandoned after the astronomer was admitted into an institution and it stayed that way for fifty years until John, being a famous, book writing psychologist, purchased the place for less than it was worth in an effort to clean up the town.
When I walked through the doors of the house dressed in my black dress and shoes, Diane greeted me with very large smile that couldn’t possibly have been real given the circumstances.
“Abigail!” She cried giving me a stronger than usual hug, “We’re so glad you’ve come to stay with us! Those nights in the orphanage must have been just awful.”
“Don’t remind her of that Diane.” John said sternly as he carried my suitcase in from the car, “She has enough on her mind already.”
Diane’s hand snapped to her mouth, “Oh right, I was just trying to…” Her voice trailed off for a slight moment, “Oh well, I’ve put you in Jane’s room just for a couple of nights until we can finish decorating your room.”
My face frown dropped lower than it already was. Jane and I had become friends, bearable friends but I wasn’t exactly willing to be in the same room as her for an extended period of time. Her vain and naïve ways didn’t mix well with my practicality.
Nevertheless, Diane took my hand and led me up two stairways to Jane’s room who greeted us with a half hearted smile as she lay on her bed reading a magazine.
“Here you are Abigail, you can catch up with Jane while I make our supper.” Diane said giving me a nudge and then she was gone.
Jane had two beds. She had always had two beds and she always told me she had two beds just to rub in the fact that she was rich but in truth, the beds weren’t bought by her wealthy father, they had come with the house. Two iron frames elegantly bent into sweeping, fanatical designs at the head of each of them.
Diane had added the two pink bedspreads. I scowled at the colour. It was Jane’s favourite.
“You can have that bed of course.” Jane said pointing to the bed closest to me, it had only one pillow and Jane’s had five.
I smiled slightly and threw the teddy bear that I had been carrying onto the pillow. It’s scruffy brown fur looked horrible next to the bright pink of the bed. I sighed and sat down on the bed’s edge, it was only for a few days. But it wasn’t.
Two weeks had passed and I was still in Jane’s pink kingdom but somehow I seemed to endure it. I got used to her constant glances at mirrors, her insane obsession with makeup, and her hour long conversations with friends.
One stormy day, we were both sitting on her floor between the two beds reading. I had a novel and Jane, a magazine. Lightning flashed outside filling the room with light and it was soon followed by an incredibly loud thunderclap. I jumped in my spot and hit my head on the side of the iron frame of the bed. Clutching my head, I rolled onto my stomach and winced in pain. It was then that I noticed the flat foot of the bed frame and the rusty bolt that lay directly in the center of it.
“Jane, why is the bed bolted to the floor?” I asked incredibly curious.
Jane shrugged, “I don’t know, daddy says it was like that when we moved in.”
I stared at the foot for a while until another thunderclap sounded and the single light in Jane’s room went black.
The rest of the night each one of us carried a candle with us wherever we went. I found it incredible as it reminded me of the times before electricity when candles were the only source of light. Jane found it depressing and all she did was mope.
When the time for bed came around the corner, the storm still remained in the sky and its thunder and lighting was just as intense but somehow each of us seemed to bend the loud noise into a bearable lullaby and soon we were all fast asleep.
I woke to the loudest sound I had ever heard and the house shaking. A picture that was hung on the wall fell between the back of my bed frame and the wall, its glass shattering all across the floor. I lay stunned until Diane ran in the room with a candle.
“It was just a tree falling dears! No need to be afraid.” she called from the door and then she was gone. There was no notice of the broken picture or the fact that both Jane and I were scared out of our wits in our beds.
I slowly lay my head back on the pillow and Jane did the same. Soon the storm ended and the room was filled with Jane’s soft snores instead of thunder. I gazed up at the ceiling noticing something that wasn’t there before. It hung where the broken picture had been and it looked oddly like a chain on a lamp that you could pull to make the light switch on.
I looked over at Jane to check if she was asleep, and she was so very slowly I reached my hand up and pulled the chain expecting a light in the room to turn on, but nothing did. So concluding that the electricity was still off, I put my head disappointedly back on my pillow. Then a rumble began to fill the room. I quickly raised my head and scanned the room to look for the cause, but couldn’t find anything. My eyes fell on Jane who still remained fast asleep. In panic, I looked up and the ceiling and gasped for I had found the source of the rumble.
Slowly and evenly the ceiling of the tower began to spread apart, splitting in the center to reveal a blanket of stars. My eyes continued to stare at the new sight hypnotized by the beauty of the moon, the stars, and the milky way, until over a period of time my eye lids became heavy and closed leaving me in a deep sleep.
I woke in the morning to the sound of the morning birds chirping outside of Jane’s window and I quickly looked up to the ceiling with its white even plaster. There was no sign of a tear in the centre or along any of the walls and the picture was back on the wall behind my head, there was no chain. It was only a dream, I thought to myself as I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way downstairs.
Months passed and with them came the depression of the loss of my parents and the constant fighting of Diane and John. My room never came and soon I became a sullen zombie remaining only in a world that was within myself. I began to notice changes in Jane as well. Her walls became plastered in bands with anarchist slogans and her cloths started to smell of smoke and her breath of alcohol. She was making her way to the dark side as a result of her parents fighting and she was taking me with her.
We both cut our hair short and cropped then dyed it black. Our nails, eyes, and clothes also sported the same dark colour and soon the pink bedspreads were gone and Jane was coming home with piercing. I could never push myself that far though for I didn’t take pleasure in destroying my body with glittering studs. I took pleasure in destroying my wrists with scars that would remain for decades.
My interest in school and books fell along with my dreams and aspirations. The only thing that remained was my depression which seemed to grow each year.
On the night of my fifteenth birthday, Diane and John’s arguing filled the bottoms floors of the large house forcing Jane and I to stay in our room. We sat on our beds, she with her many piercing and now black and purple hair, and I with my long choppy black hair and my wrists covered in bracelets to hide my scars.
Jane giggled mischievously for a minute and then jumped to her book bag which carried anything but books. She dug around for a while inside of it until she withdrew a small plastic bag that held a strange substance looking much like oregano. In a separate bag were two long papered thing with resembled cigarettes.
“I bought this for us for your birthday.” she said with a grin.
I looked at the things trying to figure out what it was finally I gave up and just asked. Jane looked at me strangely then laughed,
“I thought you were serious for a minute!” She cried as she lit one of the cigarette looking things with a lighter, took a drag, then handed it to me. “Here.” she said.
I had only smoked once before. It was when Jane’s parents were fighting especially loud one night and she said she needed to relax so she took out a cigarette and I decided I needed to calm down too. But this strange cigarette like thing was nothing like the cigarette. It was different somehow. I laughed for the first time in what seemed like months and even though I knew it was false, I felt happy and calmed. Then slowly the feelings were replaced by empty ones and my depression grew. I found myself yearning for my mothers touch and her face would linger in front of me making me want to hug both her and my dad even more.
Jane who was having the opposite reaction jumped up from her spot on the bed and announced that she was starving so she ran to the door to get some food, one her way she stumbled into the name plate on her door and then ran out of the room.
I was left feeling even more alone than usual and tears soon made their way down my cheeks. I wiped them away and looked to the spot that Jane had hit the door. The name plate had fallen down and the paint beneath it had become warn over the years. I could make out one wispy letter beneath the paint from where I was sitting so I got up and wandered dizzily to the door. It said something underneath the paint and I was deathly curious as to what it was so I scratched off the rest of the paint and stared awestruck at the spot.
“The Dream Room.” I whispered reading the lettering then I heard footsteps running up the stairs so I quickly put the name plate back on the door and ran to my bed.
Jane appeared with a giant bag of chips and an even bigger smile on her face.
“I had a great idea while downstairs!” She said, “We should move your bed together with mine!”
I stared at her for a minute then shook my head, “But what about the bolts?”
“That’s why I brought these!” she said holding up a wide variety of tools.
The next half an hour was spent attempting to remove the bolts from the feet of my bed using every tool imaginable until finally our two beds were side by side and we were sitting on the beds eating chips and smoking.
“Do you ever miss your parents?” Jane asked as she stared up at the ceiling.
I looked at her with shock, she’d never asked a kind of question like this before.
“Every moment of the day.” I answered and then I fell quiet.
“What are you thinking about?” Jane asked as she shut her eyes.
“I was wondering where they were.”
“Who?”
“My parents.”
“I’d say they’re up there,” She said pointing up, “They’ve gone to the stars.”
I smiled and shut my eyes, “You really think so?” I asked but the only sound that filled the room was Jane’s soft snoring. Then soon I too was in a deep sleep.
It was the first night I had dreamt of my parents since their death. My mom was floating in the sky holding hands with my dad and they were beckoning me to join them but I couldn’t because I was being weighted on the Earth and was unable to float. I cried out for them, tears rolling down my cheeks but they just floated away leaving me behind.
I woke in a cold sweat and looked up at the ceiling as my eyes filled with tears, the yearning in my stomach grew stronger and then I noticed it. The picture was gone and the strange chain was back. I smiled and wiped the tears away. I reached my hand over to wear the chain was and pulled it wanting to escape. The rumble returned and once again the ceiling opened to reveal the starlit sky. I smiled and closed my eyes thinking of my parents. Soon my body began to feel weightless and I opened my eyes.
My bed wasn’t on the ground anymore. I was floating up through the opening in the tower and I didn’t’ panic for this is what I wanted. I wanted to escape. I kept my eyes on the stars up above and allowed a new feeling of happiness to take over my body. Two hands took each of my own and looked beside me to find both of my parents sitting on the bed with me. Tears of happiness began to roll uncontrollably down my face and I didn’t wipe them away for I didn’t want to let go of my parents hands. They both kissed my forehead and looked up to the stars. I did the same.
An astronomer once said that his tower could reach the stars and that soon he would leave the earth. Sadly he was deemed insane by the villagers and admitted into an institution. But what the villagers didn’t know, was that he was right.
Fourth Period English
The classroom echoes with the voices of lost children. None of them captured by his words, his stories, his lessons. It doesn’t seem odd though for they were never interested in what he has to say, only bored.
Slowly a few heads fall to their desks as he commences talking once again. A muffled snore could be heard at the back of the room and scattered groups begin to whisper once again. The teacher drones on.
Five more minutes to go until the students break from their chains and run free to the outer limits of the school where they remain free till 2:05 the next day.
Each student watches intently as the minute hand draws nearer to it’s target. Slowly, slowly. Each second, a second of hell as more useless information is being forced into their aching brains.
Will it end? One thinks to himself as the clock hand appears to slow in it’s last few seconds. Everything stops, silence in his mind, until a high pitched ring fills the ears of every eager student and a tidal wave of relief can be felt through the entire space of the cell-like room as it washes out the teacher’s lessons and opinions. English ends.
Slowly a few heads fall to their desks as he commences talking once again. A muffled snore could be heard at the back of the room and scattered groups begin to whisper once again. The teacher drones on.
Five more minutes to go until the students break from their chains and run free to the outer limits of the school where they remain free till 2:05 the next day.
Each student watches intently as the minute hand draws nearer to it’s target. Slowly, slowly. Each second, a second of hell as more useless information is being forced into their aching brains.
Will it end? One thinks to himself as the clock hand appears to slow in it’s last few seconds. Everything stops, silence in his mind, until a high pitched ring fills the ears of every eager student and a tidal wave of relief can be felt through the entire space of the cell-like room as it washes out the teacher’s lessons and opinions. English ends.
A Sad Realization
Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me. I remember you sharing this with me one day after school. You had seen a little girl recite this to a bully and the monster had backed off, but your monster hadn’t backed off. I tried to tell you that it isn’t true but you didn’t listen. You gathered your courage and recited it to your monster. There were screams and then you stumbled back into your room, damaged by the sticks, the stones, and the words. You laid your head against my chest and I comforted you until you eventually cried yourself asleep. Your father cannot be scared away with a simple school yard chant, my darling. He’s not a bully, he’s a drunk. You used to have such a great mind when we were happy, when alcohol was not a part of our family. In the beginning, you would tell me stories, seeds of your imagination to chase away the pain and depression. Slowly the amount of stories would decrease until eventually there was only silence as you sat there, tears streaming down your cheeks. Just like that, your light was gone. Your eyes grew dark like the bruises which plastered your skin. He kicks me too you know. When I’m in his way, or when he needs to take his anger out on something and you’re at school. I screamed at him, telling him to stop but he doesn’t listen. I can remember most vividly, the day you had the worst. I was outside trying to get away until I heard the shouts and screams from within the house. And then, suddenly, they stopped altogether. I ran into your room trembling with fear and there you were, lying on the floor. Your nose and lip bleeding and your tears mixing with the blood. I cried out! I wanted to help so desperately! I want to stop all this pain! But what can I do? I’m only a dog…
Eternal Friendship
The little child sat in the sand just beyond the shoreline playing contently with her toys. She was building a castle, one for the many creatures of her imagination to live in and play just as contently as she was now.
Her father Joseph, a tired man, sat just beyond his child glancing sadly at the divorce papers in which his once beloved wife had placed in his hands not hours ago. It was to be a quick separation but it would affect their only child greatly. She had only ever seen her parents happy and endearing towards one another, now everything would change.
Joseph looked up from the papers and sighed as he witnessed his child talking quietly to an invisible face. She had enough flaws to herself already and soon he and his wife would likely be adding another.The small child smiled at her friend then glanced to her father who remained in his seat, his head buried in papers.
“Most likely papers for work.” she told her friend.
When her friend had come to her approximately one year ago, she was without a name so the girl called her friend Water because of Water’s distinct exactness to the colour of the sea. Her hair shimmered dark blue and her skin shone a brilliant aqua. Because the girl much loved the sea, she was overjoyed to have some water of her own.Water frowned when the girl mentioned her father’s work.
“He’s always working” Water said and pushed her finger into the castle to create a window.
Water liked her new friend Luna partly because her name was associated with the moon and water liked the moon but it was also because Water loved her untamed self to be bossed around and Luna was just the person to do so.
“More windows.” Luna demanded and Water did as she was told.
Luna didn’t want to be so demanding but somehow it helped to heal the constant ache of neglect within her. Each weekend, her father would bring her to the very same beach but never once had he asked to play with her or to swim with her. Today it did not matter though for she had Water to play with and the weather was overcast so she did not feel the need to swim amongst the sea creatures today. But the ache remained in her heart and whenever she looked up from her castle to her father, it would grow larger and more painful until it engulfed her entire chest.
“I want to leave this place.” she had often muttered to Water and each time she would receive an impish look from her friend as if to say, just wait.But Luna always dismissed this indication for she did not expect Water to be the type to take matters into her own hands.
Luna scrunched her nose tight as she felt a raindrop prickle it’s tip. A wave crashed just at the tip of her toe and she smiled at the cool, wet feeling. Luna leaned back onto the wet sand and looked at the gloomy sky. More raindrops fell onto her face. Another wave crashed on the shore line, this time crawling to the base of Luna’s knee. Luna frowned. The sky had shed itself of it’s grey and was now the colour of an unnatural cerulean blue. Luna turned her head to ask Water if she noticed the colour but her question was pushed away by the familiar impish look dangling off of Water’s lips.
“Are you ready to leave this place?” Water asked, her grin widening.Luna attempted to push herself up from the ground but found that her body would not move.
“Let’s go swimming.” Water said as she got up from the ground and after smiling at her new eternal friend, she dove into the waves and disappeared leaving Luna laying in the sand.
Joseph sat still in his chair holding his cell phone and arguing constantly with his lawyer about the divorce. His fists were clenching in and out as his lawyer carried on with the list of items his wife was claiming.
A sigh escaped from his lips as he listened, his eyes fixed on his signature placed on the line of the divorce papers. Some things never live happily ever after, he thought to himself but as he did, a sound enveloped his body, a sound that tore his heart apart. It was the scream of his daughter.
Joseph looked up from his papers just in time to witness the foaming fingers of the ocean grabbing his daughter and pulling her out to join it. The scream stopped.All that remained on the shoreline was a bucket and a ruined kingdom. Luna was now able to demand her friend Water’s attention day and night as she called her tide in and out to play.
An eternal friendship.
Her father Joseph, a tired man, sat just beyond his child glancing sadly at the divorce papers in which his once beloved wife had placed in his hands not hours ago. It was to be a quick separation but it would affect their only child greatly. She had only ever seen her parents happy and endearing towards one another, now everything would change.
Joseph looked up from the papers and sighed as he witnessed his child talking quietly to an invisible face. She had enough flaws to herself already and soon he and his wife would likely be adding another.The small child smiled at her friend then glanced to her father who remained in his seat, his head buried in papers.
“Most likely papers for work.” she told her friend.
When her friend had come to her approximately one year ago, she was without a name so the girl called her friend Water because of Water’s distinct exactness to the colour of the sea. Her hair shimmered dark blue and her skin shone a brilliant aqua. Because the girl much loved the sea, she was overjoyed to have some water of her own.Water frowned when the girl mentioned her father’s work.
“He’s always working” Water said and pushed her finger into the castle to create a window.
Water liked her new friend Luna partly because her name was associated with the moon and water liked the moon but it was also because Water loved her untamed self to be bossed around and Luna was just the person to do so.
“More windows.” Luna demanded and Water did as she was told.
Luna didn’t want to be so demanding but somehow it helped to heal the constant ache of neglect within her. Each weekend, her father would bring her to the very same beach but never once had he asked to play with her or to swim with her. Today it did not matter though for she had Water to play with and the weather was overcast so she did not feel the need to swim amongst the sea creatures today. But the ache remained in her heart and whenever she looked up from her castle to her father, it would grow larger and more painful until it engulfed her entire chest.
“I want to leave this place.” she had often muttered to Water and each time she would receive an impish look from her friend as if to say, just wait.But Luna always dismissed this indication for she did not expect Water to be the type to take matters into her own hands.
Luna scrunched her nose tight as she felt a raindrop prickle it’s tip. A wave crashed just at the tip of her toe and she smiled at the cool, wet feeling. Luna leaned back onto the wet sand and looked at the gloomy sky. More raindrops fell onto her face. Another wave crashed on the shore line, this time crawling to the base of Luna’s knee. Luna frowned. The sky had shed itself of it’s grey and was now the colour of an unnatural cerulean blue. Luna turned her head to ask Water if she noticed the colour but her question was pushed away by the familiar impish look dangling off of Water’s lips.
“Are you ready to leave this place?” Water asked, her grin widening.Luna attempted to push herself up from the ground but found that her body would not move.
“Let’s go swimming.” Water said as she got up from the ground and after smiling at her new eternal friend, she dove into the waves and disappeared leaving Luna laying in the sand.
Joseph sat still in his chair holding his cell phone and arguing constantly with his lawyer about the divorce. His fists were clenching in and out as his lawyer carried on with the list of items his wife was claiming.
A sigh escaped from his lips as he listened, his eyes fixed on his signature placed on the line of the divorce papers. Some things never live happily ever after, he thought to himself but as he did, a sound enveloped his body, a sound that tore his heart apart. It was the scream of his daughter.
Joseph looked up from his papers just in time to witness the foaming fingers of the ocean grabbing his daughter and pulling her out to join it. The scream stopped.All that remained on the shoreline was a bucket and a ruined kingdom. Luna was now able to demand her friend Water’s attention day and night as she called her tide in and out to play.
An eternal friendship.
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