CREATIVE WRITING
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." - Oscar Wilde
I looked at her and felt vacant, as though I were an emptied house. The corners in my rooms were dusty, my stairs creaked from their old age, and the windows in the bedrooms could not be looked out of as they were filthy and foggy from a thousand years’ isolation.
When my parents read her form, she was described as intelligent beyond her years, paramountly beautiful to all women in our town, and unconditionally loyal to whomever may be honored to be matched with her. She appeared to be the perfect mate for me, or at least in my parents’ eyes, but I recall feelings of doubt in our pairings. The forms were scary for every adolescent in town; a form essentially determined one’s entire future. It would dictate your job, whom you will be programmed to love, where you will live, your permanent salary, and the number of kids that one will be permitted to have. The forms commence creation the second a child enters the third grade. Once this age is met, school and sociality are graded, as well as appearance and overall character. My form did me a service when it granted me a well-paying job as a systems architect. My starting salary will be double what my father made before he was of retiring age, and nearly quadruple what my mother presently makes. My form supposedly gave me the most desired woman in our town, but for some reason, upon a single glance at her form, I handed it back to my parents, mid-yawn. Of course, I did not get a choice. My parents signed for my chip to be programmed to love this woman. My voice became voiceless in my head and, slowly, I started to find her more interesting. Her parents told me she had hoped to get paired with me; she had been admiring my work ethic and outward appearance for years. She probably knew I would be well-equipped with a hefty salary and, thus, permitted an extravagant house with many children. My retiring age would be earlier and my competence to keep up with the ever-changing society impenetrable. At word of our courtship, devices and animatronic voices were buzzing of what a couple we would make. The two most attractive people in the county, found through not their looks but intelligence. We were promised to be the most adequate and perfect match since the forms were invented fifty-three years ago. What was not promised was for our relationship; our powerful, cogent, exemplar relationship, resulted in the first mistake of the forms. My chip, placed on the far left side of my brain, started to become loose in the middle of my high school years. Unknowingly, it gradually shifted in its designated place, dislodging itself from my brain. I woke up one morning in bed with my new bride to find the chip on my pillow. Before she could see, I tucked it in my bed dresser drawer. I felt something lifted inside of me; I still feel this when I awake today. I turn to my bedside and see the body of the woman I truly love, rising slowly and falling softly. I run a shower and feel the warmth of the shower, taking extra, once considered “wasted” minutes to bask in its steam and heat. Life seemed somehow fuller at the expense of my chip.
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I am thankful for the therapy sessions in January;
The long-awaited return to school in February; In March, a wave of confidence crashed on me; In April, a run to WaWa where my future boyfriend found me; In May, Hershey kisses not in the form of chocolate; And June was the month I discovered I got published; July was full of dates and a trip to Virginia; August, we went on vacation and I never wanted to leave him; September was scary but the coffee got me through; He played me a song for my birthday in October, six months of every dream come true; November, our football team still plays to the Championship; And I know in December, I’ll be thankful for my sister, especially on December 11th. I am excited to feel the night's hands
brush my hair as I speed past the signs on my cycle I play my favorite band I journey and ride with my eyes wide lonely nights dizzy lights nothing in sight Is how I like to live my life my summer August nights creating myself painting my life One day at a time.
Before I was diagnosed with anorexia, I was blind to see what the mirror showed me. My legs and arms were like rotting twigs, ready to snap because I was so cold. My hair fell out constantly, and my skin almost always wore goosebumps, even in the midst of hot July. When I would stand up, I saw galaxies and stars; the blood in my veins rushed to my brain nearly every time. My hands tingled frequently, and my clothes were like parachutes on my shrunken figure. At night, I fell asleep with seven blankets on my back. In the morning, I woke up and ran for miles. In my mind, I knew there was something illogical about what I was doing, but I could not bring myself to admit that I had a problem. The running was every single day. I would get up before school to complete my miles, thinking it was the only way I would be allowed to eat that day. I let anorexia dictate what I wore each day, and I let it ruin countless relationships that mattered to me. However, Ed had the power to terminate my life, my body, and my mentality. I thought I would never get out of my rut; I had figured my lifestyle of incessant running and not eating would be permanent to the end of my life. I was wrong, however, the day I stumbled into Renfrew. After I was discharged from the Renfrew Center for Eating Disorders, a residential campus for individuals who are severely ill and struggling with disordered eating, anxiety, and depression, I felt liberated. My thoughts had shifted from dark to light, and I reshaped myself, literally. I found family in the small community of women at residential who were just as afraid as I was to commence recovery. Nonetheless, the support they provided, as well as the strength from my therapist and nutritionist enabled me to recreate myself. I reflected on gaining weight and realized the weight I was at before was lethal. I discovered new foods I liked and conquered foods that scared me. I found that looking into a mirror was not as scary as it used to be, and I no longer needed IVs or supplement drinks. My body, mind, and soul were healing together, and I was conquering my goals one day at a time. Alter-Ego
Katy Perry wears extravagant wigs and dresses. Her posture and body boast with confidence, and she believes that there is nothing she cannot do. She has multiple tattoos, one of which says Jesus on her left wrist. She is an incredible singer who can claim any stage, make any child’s dreams come true, and befriend anyone who she simply smiles at. Katy Perry is rich, famous, beautiful, empowered, and confident. Almost her entire life has been focused around her career and bettering herself as a musician. A Day in My Life in Katy Perry’s Voice I wake up and look forward to everything that the new day will bring me. The sun warms me and makes me want to wear stilettos and fashionable clothing. I walk downstairs and drink a large cup of caffeinated iced coffee, my pink, sparkly bathrobe clinging to my freshly washed skin. I eat sweets for breakfast, like vanilla yogurt or sticky buns, and I go back upstairs to style myself. On the way to school, I sing along to all of my favorite songs with my mother and continue to sip on my big iced coffee. I walk in and am already laughing as soon as I meet up with my friends. We talk about crazy movies and our busy evenings, and I find jokes in nearly everything. As my classes progress, I will maintain my smile and eat fries at lunch, not caring too much about what work I have in the evening; I know I will get it done. As I leave school for the day and head to football practice, I see my fellow managers running at me with open arms and the jokes start immediately. I drive to WaWa, laughing at something my boyfriend texted me and chatting to my mother about another uneventful day. At WaWa, I glance at all the coffee and feel at home. The workers remember my name and make small talk with me. As day turns to dark, I drive home and collapse on my bed. I strip and put on my pajamas and fuzzy socks with little foxes on them. I giggle at them and start my homework, taking one project one at a time. When I am all done, I read my poetry books and write pages after pages of my own poems. I end the night with Bob’s Burgers and some sweet candy. When I finally lay down, I breathe a pleasant sigh of relief and thank God for his blessings and presence in my life. |
About the author.I love creative writing, especially poetry and short narratives. I hope expand my career as a poet and to always be reading something. Archives
April 2019
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