Posted by Mrs. Emery
From Natalie: Start your piece with “You are what you _____”
Write for 10 minutes. Post your piece to comments.
Posted on December 20, 2016, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.
“You are what you think,” I say to the girl standing in front of me. “You’re funny, always making me laugh as soon as you open your mouth. You’re beautiful, your long wavy brown hair and your lovely green eyes. You’re amazing and smart. You plan on getting a scholarship to your dream college and you’re going to get a good job that pays a lot of money.” She smirks at me and gives a small nod.
“You got that right.”
“The thing is, you’re also a jerk. You’re snobby, stuck-up, prideful, and you think everyone should bow down before you and say how amazing you are. You also think I should put you first.” That gets me a slap in the face.
“You should put me first Johnny,” she whines in a high-pitched voice.
“That’s wrong. God comes first, then my family, then maybe my friends. Maybe after that, I would put my writing next. Then you come after that.” She gives a frustrated shout and walks away, her hair hitting me in the face from the quick turn. I slowly shake my head and walk away. I needed to catch up on some writing. Being with her was a huge mistake and a very big distraction.
“You are what you make of yourself. Life is hard but with hard-work and dedication you can make life a little better.”
That was my family’s maxim. Hard-work and dedication can overcome any obstacle, but after the Red Bone War of 3098, no aggregate of hard work or dedication could make life better for anyone. The skies were eternally blotched in grey and black. The roads covered in grime and extremely friable. Life could never be better for anyone. Were all consigned to the mere oblivion of bane and trepidation as soon as we come into Earth. There is no better life. It went extinct the day we were on the losing side of the war.
“You are what you aren’t.” Those words were many things. Painful, yet beautiful at the same time. It just depends what mask you put on when you look at the words. He looked at me with a emotion that held many things. Perhaps, a sense of accomplishment for discovering who I was. Or, maybe he had sympathy for uncovering the battle I was fighting against myself. That moment was different that anything I have ever felt. I’m always changing. I thought I was fooling everybody. Maybe I was only fooling myself. His eyes, they were demanding every time I spoke to him but if possible there was a look of relief in them. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rolling his eyes with irritation. “Really? What it is supposed to mean? Well, maybe the fact that every time you want to give up on who you are trying to be you somehow shed another personality.” I was wrong, his emotion wasn’t accomplishment or sympathy but anger. ” I am just trying to figure out who I am, that’s all.” Frustration clearly written across his face. ” Oh, you already have.” I was done with that conversation and I was done with him and everything he was putting me through. “I think its time for me to go. Its not like you need to talk to me anymore. You’ve clearly figured me out.” I already figured out who I was. A long time ago. I wasn’t a person, personality, or anything else.
I was a state of change. And I always will be.
“You are what you’ve done,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “This is you now. We finally have something in common, you and I.”
My eyes burned with the frustration of my burdens, and corruption weighed upon my chest. I knew his game. He was trying the draw me in like a snake surrounding its prey. Every inhale and exhale brought about a new kind of pain. “You’re wrong,” I said more to convince myself above anything else.
“Sean is the name, isn’t it? The boy who would do anything to protect his friends, yet he let them slip from his fingers almost instantly? That’s you. You’re responsible.”
I strained to block out his venomous words. It’s was an accident, wasn’t it? I clenched my fists, the feeling of dried blood against my fingernails that brought memories of a whole different story. I couldn’t find any response. The right words refused to form.
“Say something, kid. Tell me that it wasn’t your fault. Tell me that it wasn’t on purpose. Fight for the lies that you’ve been telling yourself. Or perhaps you’ve accepted my words. Better late than never, I suppose.”
A lump formed in the back of my throat. My heart pounded against my rib cage, trying to escape the dark vessel that it had been assigned to. Something wasn’t right, and I struggled to put two and two together. Uneasiness made itself a home in my gut.
“You aren’t real,” I muttered before I could even think up the words.
“Pardon?” he asked, dazed by my sudden statement.
“You aren’t real,” I repeated, this time with truth. This was all a set up. His bone chilling voice was a figment of my imagination.
This was all just a distraction.
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