D is for Disturbing

[nekosensei]

As I mentioned earlier, I joined two writing communities in order jump start my writing again. When I was in college, I was told a lot by my teachers that I was good at it (one professor actually photocopied my work once and handed it out as an example of what he wanted to see), but in past years, I've felt like I've been stagnating. I just didn't have anything creative to say. I think reading writing prompts periodically was just the kick in the pants I needed to pick it up again.

This one was a response to a writing prompt posted several days ago in staringout. The prompt was: "Write about someone skipping something: a rock, a school day, a medication, work." The resulting story was kind of disturbing. I actually considered not posting it to my personal journal for a while there.



A surprise was waiting for me-- at least, that’s what Jon Stewart told me as I was watching The Daily Show. But first, I had to flush the rest of my pills down the toilet. As I reached for the remote to pause the show, I knocked one of my trashy novels, The Flame and the Flower, off the coffee table. I scooped it up and set it back on the table before heading to my room. It was the coldest night of the year. Outside, a blizzard shrieked and railed at the old farmhouse, begging to be let in. I grabbed the bottle of haldol— the pills that had left me tethered to such a flat world for so long— from my nightstand and inverted it over the porcelain bowl. I flushed and watched satisfied as the tiny, yellow life rafts circled and then disappeared into the whirlpool.

I went back downstairs and pressed play. Jon Stewart cracked a few more jokes before looking at me seriously and saying, “Now…go outside.”

“Wuh-wuh-wuh-win. Ka-rold” I stammered. My words were all a-jumble. I never could get them to come out of my mouth quite right.

“I believe what you were trying to say is that it’s winter and that it’s cold outside. Am I right?” Stewart asked patronizingly. A plastic smirk washed across his face.

“Yeah.”

“Nah,” he said, waving his hands in dismissal, “don’t worry about it! Trust me on this one.”

I paused.

“Come on!” he ejaculated enthusiastically, “it’ll be great!”

This had better be good. I got off the sofa and crossed the living room. When I opened the front door, I had expected to see a dull monochrome of snow and North Dakota night, but instead, I was dazzled by a golden sunset. I felt like Dorothy setting foot on a new world for the first time. I watched in wonder as the trees swayed in the wind and white blossoms brushed across my face. I waded out into a field of grass and stood there for quite some time with my hands out, trying to catch the blossoms as they fell from the sky and laughing mirthfully all the while.

After growing tired of this, I turned and looked east towards the barn, but instead of the barn, I saw a hill. And on that gentle swell stood a handsome man wearing a poet shirt and breeches. His long, brown hair billowed in the breeze and strong muscles bristled under his tunic. Could it be? It was the Captain! He saw me and beckoned for me to come. I ran toward him, arms outstretched, chest heaving. When I reached him, he took me in his embrace and passionately kissed my cold, blue lips…





Yeah...I don't think I'm going to be able to watch The Daily Show again for a couple of weeks. Creepy!

Comments

[g0shawk.livejournal.com]

Strange and confusing, but I like it. :) The part about mixing up the words was really interesting...something about that part that I like...

[nekosensei.livejournal.com]

I did that because I read that some people with schizophrenia have difficulty communicating themselves. They use what's called "word salads." I suppose it might have been more authentic if I had had her say random words instead of trying to say winter and cold.

[g0shawk.livejournal.com]

Huh, interesting. I actually recognize "word salads."

[bkwrrm-tx.livejournal.com]

That was an awesome story. I liked it, but yeah, not so much with the John Stewart right now.