Today's promt for fiction is this: Take the first line of your favorite song and write a story using it as the first line.
Right now I'm really loving Love The Way You Lie by Eminem. It's not technically the first line of the song, but I'm going with the line "As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight" It's an intersting line.
As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight. As long as this still works I can't care who it hurts. There's always that part that cares I guess but it's so easily over taken by the way you touch my face. I never imagined I'd be so caught up. It's like a tornado, and I start to think I'm crazy then you call my phone and it all starts to make sense. The lines between real and fake begin to blur, the lines between wrong and right so tangled. How can loving you so much be wrong? How can hurting her be so right? Then we fight and it's like the clouds clear. We've both thrown away the world for something so trite. How did this happen? Where am I? Who am I? I guess I don't know anymore. Maybe it's time I try to figure that out. Because in the end all I've got is me. And all she's got is you.
I use to hang out on the roof. A lot. The roof of my house, the roof my shed, the roof of the play equitment at school. I don't know what it is about being up that high but it's like the world looks new. Everything makes more sense from a distance. I use to be able to see for miles and miles from the top of my house. Out into fields, over the grain bins, up the hill leading out of town and to the graveyard where Katie is. I use to go to my roof to write and to read. It was like being up that high, away from everything, made it easier to imagine that the worlds I was reading about were true. Sure, there could be aliens on the Earth, I mean, look how different everything looks from here. I miss the days when a simple get away like that could refresh away the day. I miss the days when I could still climb trees. When as the last time you climbed a tree? When do we stop thinking it's normal to clime a tree each day? When did I grow up?
Friday, February 18, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Day two...delayed a bit...oops
So this is day two. It's also a number of months later. Sorry guys. Fell out of habit. I'll have to make more of an effort. Maybe if I can get a constant supply of prompts.
The fiction prompt for today was this: "A flight attendant drinking champagne in first class"
My fact prompt today is from when I was 12 years old and believed that vampires could be real.
Fiction:
Understanding settled over her. Resignation. She knew now that there was nothing left to hope for. As others around her made their hurried last phone calls to loved ones, she sat sipping at glass of the best champagne on the plane. They were going down. Down into the ocean. She had always wondered what it would be like to drown. She imagined it was peaceful, but that might have just been the alcohol talking. In her last moments she couldn't even muster the regret for having no one waiting at home. Today was the justification for holding everyone at arms length. Tonight, no one would cry for her.
Fact:
When I was 12 years old I began to realize that I was not straight. It didn't start out sexual at all. I realized that young as I was I was beginning to love. I was giving pieces of myself to someone, longing to understand what that meant. I fell asleep many nights afraid of what that love meant. That it meant I was broken in some way. Forever lost. In my fear I began to cling to any semblance of hope I had to survive the things I couldn't control. One of the conclusions I came to was that I could become a vampire. Vampires lived forever, I believed, having given up their souls for immortality. If I could become a vampire then I would never have to explain to God that I could never be good enough. He would be mad for sure, but since I could never die, I would never have to see the disappointment on his face. So I went in search of vampires with the only tool I had, the Internet. Needless to say I found some odd people. One of them though, he realized at some point that I was just a young girl who was very afraid. He kept encouraging me to walk way from the idea of dying so that I could live, and toward the idea of loving myself for who I am. I will never know his real name, and I can't even find him online anymore. But I will always be grateful that he cared enough about a random girl on the Internet to help me learn to love myself.
The fiction prompt for today was this: "A flight attendant drinking champagne in first class"
My fact prompt today is from when I was 12 years old and believed that vampires could be real.
Fiction:
Understanding settled over her. Resignation. She knew now that there was nothing left to hope for. As others around her made their hurried last phone calls to loved ones, she sat sipping at glass of the best champagne on the plane. They were going down. Down into the ocean. She had always wondered what it would be like to drown. She imagined it was peaceful, but that might have just been the alcohol talking. In her last moments she couldn't even muster the regret for having no one waiting at home. Today was the justification for holding everyone at arms length. Tonight, no one would cry for her.
Fact:
When I was 12 years old I began to realize that I was not straight. It didn't start out sexual at all. I realized that young as I was I was beginning to love. I was giving pieces of myself to someone, longing to understand what that meant. I fell asleep many nights afraid of what that love meant. That it meant I was broken in some way. Forever lost. In my fear I began to cling to any semblance of hope I had to survive the things I couldn't control. One of the conclusions I came to was that I could become a vampire. Vampires lived forever, I believed, having given up their souls for immortality. If I could become a vampire then I would never have to explain to God that I could never be good enough. He would be mad for sure, but since I could never die, I would never have to see the disappointment on his face. So I went in search of vampires with the only tool I had, the Internet. Needless to say I found some odd people. One of them though, he realized at some point that I was just a young girl who was very afraid. He kept encouraging me to walk way from the idea of dying so that I could live, and toward the idea of loving myself for who I am. I will never know his real name, and I can't even find him online anymore. But I will always be grateful that he cared enough about a random girl on the Internet to help me learn to love myself.
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