Valentine's Day 1-2 Second Draft
1-2
The pretty girl sat with her face contorted in a frown. She was sitting on the rim of a circular fountain.
The rim was big enough for her to sit on.
The fountain slowly went up into three consecutively smaller bowls of water. Then there was the last little sprinkler, in the shape of a tear drop, covered with moss from the humid water. Water was shooting out of the ivory stone, leaping for the heavens.
A thin spray of mist would occasionally form in front of her tear drenched face. It would give her a sparkling complexion, that made her seem like soda. When her lips moved you could see pink braces underneath. They too would glitter like soda. She didn't enjoy the braces much... She thought they made her look ugly.
They thought she was pretty anyway.
When she said she was ugly, pretend boy number one was attracted to her.
When she said she was ugly, pretend boy number two would kiss her.
When she said she was ugly, pretend boy number three would rape her, and they got steadily more demanding.
She would cry the world out of her eyelids. It wasn't just her ugliness, it was her understanding. She knew it wouldn't ever fit to her liking. Whether she was a model and made money, or a hooker and made none, she would never live the life she wanted. Her parents never understood her for this reason. Baffled by her mind, they would hand her pills, afraid she was thinking too much.
She knew better though. Her looks had eased her into a contemplative life, and she understood the manic lives of those that popped the devils. They didn't help the pain, they numbed it. Along with all the happiness in the world. 'Or what was left' she reconsidered.
Sylvia had run away from home. She was off and out. Her past was trying to catch up to her like a bullet. It would occasionally hit her in the heart, and she would feel the emotions inside. It was for many reasons. They (her parents) were fake. Absorbed in a reality that was not real. Everyday, they would come home from work. Then, they would make food. They might talk, but they inevitably went to bed a couple hours later. Nothing happened! When she would complain, she was told that if she followed the process intently, she would become a god.
So she did the process. She would wake up in the morning. Brush her teeth and dress. Go to school. Came back. Did the work assigned, and went to bed. Same thing the next morning. Was this life? It was an order! She yelled her thoughts at her mother, and the mother recommended pills. She yelled them at her father, and he slapped her, telling her to take some pills as well.
She decided to fuck 'em. Fuck 'em! She looked for fear. She looked for love. She looked for life! Emotion is what she wanted.
There was a boy who walked across her line of sight. For a fleeting second he was attractive. Then she saw he was wearing the unimaginable. It was fashion he was wearing! He changed his clothes to match the boys at his school, and definitely thought he was smooth. So smooth, that he gave the crying girl a reassuring wink. She scowled, and the confrontation was immediately over.
Her dirty blond hair was slowly absorbing the moisture from the mist, and was toppled wearily over her face. More tears slid down her face, and she broke down further.
In the sky: a SCREAM! There was a whooshing of noise as the Earth rolled around. A dull thud signaled her head knocking against the ground. As she lie face up, there was a fire in the sky. Sylvia thought the flames were licking her. She felt no pain, none. Then she realized the source was not the nothingness around her or in her, but from a building high up. Perk Tower! ...on fire?...
There were screaming noises all around her. She was unable to comprehend the situation with all the disturbances surrounding her. Cacophony here, cacophony there! Mayhem. There was an excruciating crack towards the right of her body. She gazed in a blink and a flattened finger met her eyes. 'Ow!' She started howling in pain. She felt she was fizzing like bubbles.
The world spun around her as the pain moved from her finger, filling into her body like stuffing. And she was hungry... The tower erupted in flames yet again, and this time, in the median of the building, a shock wave of glass reverberated, and: SHATTERED! Brick splinted as wood crumbled, and the looming figure of the building was now half it's glory.
A shuffling of boots signaled shelter. She looked up and heard a pale face. He had glasses. Black, as she listened harder. A trench coat flapped in her body. His face tasted into a smile, and he lifted the feather of a body she was. The feeling was eternal bliss. She would not die. Not yet. She wanted to thank him, but she could not find her voice. She could not find herself. There was smoke everywhere, and all around her, and in her, and out of her, so she slept.
The pretty girl sat with her face contorted in a frown. She was sitting on the rim of a circular fountain.
The rim was big enough for her to sit on.
The fountain slowly went up into three consecutively smaller bowls of water. Then there was the last little sprinkler, in the shape of a tear drop, covered with moss from the humid water. Water was shooting out of the ivory stone, leaping for the heavens.
A thin spray of mist would occasionally form in front of her tear drenched face. It would give her a sparkling complexion, that made her seem like soda. When her lips moved you could see pink braces underneath. They too would glitter like soda. She didn't enjoy the braces much... She thought they made her look ugly.
They thought she was pretty anyway.
When she said she was ugly, pretend boy number one was attracted to her.
When she said she was ugly, pretend boy number two would kiss her.
When she said she was ugly, pretend boy number three would rape her, and they got steadily more demanding.
She would cry the world out of her eyelids. It wasn't just her ugliness, it was her understanding. She knew it wouldn't ever fit to her liking. Whether she was a model and made money, or a hooker and made none, she would never live the life she wanted. Her parents never understood her for this reason. Baffled by her mind, they would hand her pills, afraid she was thinking too much.
She knew better though. Her looks had eased her into a contemplative life, and she understood the manic lives of those that popped the devils. They didn't help the pain, they numbed it. Along with all the happiness in the world. 'Or what was left' she reconsidered.
Sylvia had run away from home. She was off and out. Her past was trying to catch up to her like a bullet. It would occasionally hit her in the heart, and she would feel the emotions inside. It was for many reasons. They (her parents) were fake. Absorbed in a reality that was not real. Everyday, they would come home from work. Then, they would make food. They might talk, but they inevitably went to bed a couple hours later. Nothing happened! When she would complain, she was told that if she followed the process intently, she would become a god.
So she did the process. She would wake up in the morning. Brush her teeth and dress. Go to school. Came back. Did the work assigned, and went to bed. Same thing the next morning. Was this life? It was an order! She yelled her thoughts at her mother, and the mother recommended pills. She yelled them at her father, and he slapped her, telling her to take some pills as well.
She decided to fuck 'em. Fuck 'em! She looked for fear. She looked for love. She looked for life! Emotion is what she wanted.
There was a boy who walked across her line of sight. For a fleeting second he was attractive. Then she saw he was wearing the unimaginable. It was fashion he was wearing! He changed his clothes to match the boys at his school, and definitely thought he was smooth. So smooth, that he gave the crying girl a reassuring wink. She scowled, and the confrontation was immediately over.
Her dirty blond hair was slowly absorbing the moisture from the mist, and was toppled wearily over her face. More tears slid down her face, and she broke down further.
In the sky: a SCREAM! There was a whooshing of noise as the Earth rolled around. A dull thud signaled her head knocking against the ground. As she lie face up, there was a fire in the sky. Sylvia thought the flames were licking her. She felt no pain, none. Then she realized the source was not the nothingness around her or in her, but from a building high up. Perk Tower! ...on fire?...
There were screaming noises all around her. She was unable to comprehend the situation with all the disturbances surrounding her. Cacophony here, cacophony there! Mayhem. There was an excruciating crack towards the right of her body. She gazed in a blink and a flattened finger met her eyes. 'Ow!' She started howling in pain. She felt she was fizzing like bubbles.
The world spun around her as the pain moved from her finger, filling into her body like stuffing. And she was hungry... The tower erupted in flames yet again, and this time, in the median of the building, a shock wave of glass reverberated, and: SHATTERED! Brick splinted as wood crumbled, and the looming figure of the building was now half it's glory.
A shuffling of boots signaled shelter. She looked up and heard a pale face. He had glasses. Black, as she listened harder. A trench coat flapped in her body. His face tasted into a smile, and he lifted the feather of a body she was. The feeling was eternal bliss. She would not die. Not yet. She wanted to thank him, but she could not find her voice. She could not find herself. There was smoke everywhere, and all around her, and in her, and out of her, so she slept.
posted by Oliver | 6:34 PM
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1 comments
