A lil' bit of writing :) Two years ago in some of the first As level English Literature classes I ever took, my teacher presented us with the assignment to write the opening of a book; no more and less than a page.
I have always fantasised with the idea of writing a novel, and many childish attempts have been mercilessly abandoned half way through. But this was different. I became so engrossed with the characters and the story that began to grow in my head that I couldn't stop myself from continuing. So far i have large bodies of writing that create the rough skeleton of a story that I hope with all my being will one day be read by a stranger why bought it bound in book format from a little shop.
I think it captured me so much because it is semi-autobiographical - in the sense that some of the events happened pretty much exactly as I have written them, while the majority are manifestations of my imagination of what could have happened if I wasn't saved.
Anyway, this is the opening that I wrote all those days ago; the seed which I hope to nurture and nourish.
Don't go-a-stealing it, it's mine :)
I had always hated hospitals. This one was no better, in fact, it was worse. An infinite labyrinth of starkly white corridors, haunted by the smell of lingering bleach. Rows of closed doors, behind which strangers led their exclusively private lives, shunning any contact from the outside world. On and on the nurse led me, the squeaking of her ludicrous plastic clogs being the only soundtrack to my passage. A nameless security guard with empty eyes, but an obviously full holster, reeled off a list of forbidden objects that I was to abandon if I wished to go any further. I hesitantly obliged, wondering, as I removed my shoes, belt, jewellery and any other sturdy items, if I was even inclined to take another step. I knew that I didn’t have to be there; with one swift movement I could simple turn and leave this place, this mess. But I could never do that. For possibly the first time in my life, someone needed me as much as I needed them.
“Are you ready?” It was the nurse who spoke, her kindly voice so out of context with the surroundings that it shocked me. Taking a deep breath and nodding, I took that vital step forwards. Without really noticing, I floated under the menacing metal detector and turned the corner, until suddenly I found myself at the beginning of a suffocating corridor concluding in her locked and guarded door. With each step that I took I seemed to get no nearer to my destination; everything seemed so unreal. The nurse turned to me, her attractive face disfigured with telling lines of stress and worry.
“You may notice a slight … difference about her.” She said as she unlocked the door, the resolute click alerting me to the fact that I still had not released that breath and was beginning to feel dizzy and nauseous. “We’re sorry to have to ask you to do this, we wouldn’t normally ask, but she’s refused to utter a word to anyone since she’s been here. Well, I suppose she has. Just a single word; your name. Over and over again. It’s the only thing she’ll ever say. Odd, really.” She paused. “When you’re ready, go in.”
I nodded again, imitating the cheap plastic dog that perched on my car dashboard as I digested this information. It seemed absurd to me that I could be summoned so easily. The force of one solitary word was enough to drag me from the reality that I had worked so hard to regain.
I could hear the faint metallic chinking of the handcuffs bound about her slender wrists. Ignoring my warped stomach and manic shivering, I approached the open door, behind which, currently cloaked in mystery, lay the padded cell that held her captive. Trying so hard to imagine her as she was; her glossy hair, bubbly smile, those endless eyes without the pain, and smooth, pale skin, devoid of those terrible “cat scratches”, I stepped though the door; through the portal that would lead me into a world I always knew existed, but never dreamed would be entwined so closely to my own.
