Creative Writing Final
Prologue.
"Truth left, write lies."
Welcome any and all
to the story that makes no sense
The chapter is written by winners
Information at their dispense
Solely there to confuse you
If you can't read between lines
Otherwise a sheep
No, a wolf in disguise
As you skim along the sentences
Picking phrases here and there
You will miss the big picture
Don't try it, unless you dare
But our time has run out
for the intro to go on
Good luck and remember
Find ideas you could spawn
Chapter 1.
"Born to Die"
Knowing what others do not know sometimes is the worst kind of knowing there is. They say that knowledge is power, but what is the purpose of knowledge if one cannot exercise it? Occasionally, I wish that I never knew, so I could continue living a perfectly aimless life; like those people on television do. On many restless nights I dream of moving far away from the golden fleece, onto the uncharted valley that rests underneath the crimson sky. Oh that golden fleece, whose golden tail leaves behind a path of golden glitter. If you ever met the fleece your soul would transform. But this is the part of alchemy that I can't comprehend, so instead I'll mend him a feast. Unlike the other cuisines, this one is awake, timid and powerless. Perfect for the pickings; I am afraid what I am going to tell you right now is strictly classified, thus please keep this knowledge to yourself or there will be dire consequences. Scapegoat, quite lovely weather we are having. A nice warm evening with the sun sitting on the distant horizon. While our water is gradually being amalgamated with eradicating pesticides, let's reflect on the past when the days seemed okay. As dust particles drift upward into the sunset past memories clash with my conscience. I thought to myself. I'll never be normal again. Will she ever like me? The sun was extremely bright and my eyes strained red. Snip, snap, crack. Goes head against the gravel while I struggle. While my body drags across the dirt floor like a doll, I notice the storm clouds forming. My fleece shirt has two sides: one cleansed white, and the other black from the dirt. In the distance, I can hear the wolves cry their mighty howls beneath the towering trees that stand under the awaiting dusk. Howling at the clinging clouds, that will one by one fall to the ground to meet their demise. Soon the face of the sun will show no more, as man has had his more-than-fair share of it's warmth. Unappreciated and abused, never to appear again. Then leaves on the trees will wither and eventually fall to the ground, where they are stepped upon by the herd; the chem trails painted in the night sky look like the scribbles I made so long ago. Most people won't know what is occurring, nor do they want to figure out. For my death is not a true statistic, I wasn't crazy nor abuse, but a victim of sabotage. All this time my head was conflicted by ideas and my body torn by secrets that I kept within me all these years. Alas, I'd rather be a fish in the pond than know we were born to die.
Chapter 2.
"Debit Man"
The gift of a hug
is wonderful
but beware of secrets
When the nights get cold
A blanket is your only hope
The gift of a rose
is beautiful
but beware of thorns
As a blind man can see
Actions speak louder than words
The gift of a baby
is precious
but beware of others
Clay can be molded by any
And some take more than they need
The gift of a life
is divine
but beware of money
It can corrupt any soul
No matter how good the deed
The gift of a mind
is powerful
but beware of mistakes
Pandora's box will eventually open
And soon we'll meet the debit man
Chapter 3.
"Big Brother"
The blur comes and goes. And all I see is the surveillance camera on the speckled ceiling of our Los Altos home. John's voice came from the distance, echoing back and forth, slowly and broadly.His eyes approached me with a smile, but I knew this euphoria would end soon so I held onto his palm as we reminiscence all the moments we had together. Even though I couldn't understand his ideas, I felt empathy when he said he was sorry. John apologized for all the times I was abused both emotionally and physically, without him trying to stop it. His rough scaly hands tell me that he worked hard for this. In the back of my mind I thought to myself. He doesn't really care does he? Does he want me to die? John doesn't care enough to call the ambulance? My mind battled against the negativity, but soon, lost the war. Immobilized and unable to defend myself, I lay there on the tile floor with thoughts racing in my mind. Suddenly, I realized what I had done. I allowed John to watch me precisely enough so that I had no way to escape his grip. Part of me thought this was natural all along. We all know that big brother exists to aid us during our final years, months, days, hours, minutes, or even seconds. So I gave in, closed my eyes and caught a breath of air. Briefly, a tear sparked in my eye. I think I am safe in my big brother's arms, so I'll just rest here. He'll still be watching when I wake up, like he always does.
Chapter 4.
"Lambda"
Chapter 5.
"Our Water"
Water has risen up past my neck, forcefully pushing its hydro-body towards my face and into my mouth. My motionless body lays in the pool of my own filth where my brothers and sister have bathed before. Sweet, sweet water. The element we creatures need to survive. Murky or pure, any will do. Actually not just any. Just because my tired eyes are closed doesn't mean that I am asleep. No, I am far from being enslaved by these chemical addictions. As I swallow, feel, and know the water I realize that this water has been tainted. Not only does it smell, but it tastes repulsive. Where has the beautifully pure crystal water that we've come to know and love gone? Where?! So I flail to call for it. My father is a tall, powerful, and wise man that can clean anything from a shoe to a school. He once taught me how dirty water can me cleansed. You just got to follow the correct steps and don't taint it with the sins from the sand. I would rather be sleeping now in the water, but I got to get things done so I can be a survivor.
Although it has always amazed me how we never wake up until it is too late. We dread the deep end of our abysmal fate, but we never try to swim away from it. Probably because we can't, after all look at our pool of dissatisfaction. People fighting for change, freedom, and truth. But do we even have a clue what change, freedom, or truth really are? We have been born into an age were our water is scarce, our villages dismayed, and our spirits perverted by artificial toxins. As you read this sentence, three seconds have passed you. Soon enough, your chance has passed you as well.
Epilogue.
"Night of a Thousand Stars"
I want to go and hide
Underneath the starry night
Where the stars above are bright
And where I can find delight
I wish I could be alone
On the hill by the jagged stone
By the place I call my home
Its pleasure that's all my own
With a blanket in my hand
And a song that I sang
Solely me on this land
Where the time has no end
I want to travel to Mars on this
Night of a Thousand Stars
With this feeling that goes so far
Deep underneath were the secrets are
Written by Daniel Contreras
Labels: Creative Writing