Tuesday, 31 July 2012

SUBURBIA IS A LIE

Hello there!

So, last post I was talking about the super cool awesome kind of suburbish and pastelish inspiration I had at the moment.

WELL, I have just finished writing a piece, which is for school, but is wicked sick all the same. It took a lot of discipline to actually write because I kept procrastinating and avoiding the fact that it was due TOMORROW, so it might be nice if I had something written down on the page.

I think if I can bring myself to be not lazy, I would like to make a whole story out of it and in that case what I am about to show you would just be the first chapter.

READY?

SUBURBIA IS A LIE

Rags hung off her thin frame and feathers drifted in the wind behind her. Flowers entwined in her hair, their stems knotted in the black jumble that sat haphazardly on her head. Her feet were bare and slapped themselves against the warm pavement. Soaking up the sunshine from every inch of the universe. The sky was straight out of a story book. Almost sickeningly blue. The pastel coloured houses were a Goth's worst nightmare, their colours as pink as babies. The whole town smelled of daisies and rainbows and unicorns. The air tasted of faerie dust and almost every person had a strange quality about them. A quality that could only be described as a sparkling aura. A feeling that engulfed you as soon as you walked past the sign that said "Welcome to Sommerville! Population 999."

So it was an incredibly sweet town, tucked into a haven between forests, hidden from the highway. You half expected munchkins to jump out singing and tap dancing. Sommerville was so sweet, in fact, it was almost certain that it had some dark secret. Something hidden between the neat rows of sunflowers. A little bit of darkness underneath every pastel clad child's angelic exterior.

***

The more days Dahlia spent in high school, the more days she spent not wanting to go. The locker lined walls and the cafeteria and the mystery meat smell that meandered into every corner of the vomit coloured hallways. It was a educational prison, that held her back from everything she wanted to do. The windows were little opportunities of hope, and sometimes when the sun shone in and danced along the desks Dahlia thanked the gods of suburbia that she had landed in Sommerville. But then her Geography teacher called on her, annoyingly, his expectant face and receding hairline staring down at her. And this, she reminded herself, was what life was.

The bell was the sound of freedom. Dahlia ran past immature boys and girls comparing waxing horror stories. Her feet flapped about on the concrete as she ran down the street and into the place she'd rather be. Where the pastel died out and damp, woody odours drifted in and out of the misty trees. Where her friends hung around all day. They didn't go to school. Structured curriculum just didn't fit into their existences. Art and music and poetry fit into their existences and flooded their minds with the sprawling creativity that Dahlia wished could flood hers too. After school Dahlia sat around on tree stumps with them and carved secret things into wood that only the birds and the forest would read. Sometimes they had picnics, and played old records from the good old days.  Tonight someone had brought a Ouija board. They had all seen the horror movies, the stories of sleepover parties involving some supposedly harmless ghost interference , and then the brutal haunting and murder of five innocent girls in their pyjamas. They all knew very well that there was the possibility of haunting and yes perhaps a brutal forest murder, but that was the thrill of life. And the chance to meet spirits was too intriguing to turn away.

The hours that followed were enchanting. Dahlia felt the spirit's presence. The secrets it whispered, about their town and its sweet disguise. Its thoughts coursing through her veins. Like the forest's history merged into her. The forest and Dahlia became the same. Everything it felt, she felt. And after that, nothing in Sommerville would be the same.

As Dahlia walked back through the street,  her vision of Sommerville was suddenly clear. Her whole childhood had been a distorted daydream, she had lived something fake. Something manufactured and tweaked for most perfect outcome. But now, with the whisperings of forest sprites playing around and around in her head like a creaky old carousel, Dahlia saw Sommerville as it truly was. The pastel colours and sweet atmosphere were crumbling down around her. She had to expose to everyone all that she had heard from the forest. There were 998 people who believed in a lie.

She ran back through the forest. The trees whipping past. She heard murmurs of encouragement coming from hiding places no one else knew about. The energy of the trees crackled into her fingertips, power surged within her.  She climbed to the tallest tree of all. Everything could be seen from here. Well, everything that was supposed to be seen anyway. Splinters punctured her skin, and leaves latched onto her. But this was the moment. This is the reason the gods of suburbia had placed her in Sommerville.

From the ground everyone could see her. The popular girls from her high school gossiped loudly into each other's ears.  The chewing of their gum could be heard from a mile away and the tapping of their fingernails clicked through the air as they frantically texted away at what the weird girl was doing. Dahlia began ripping up the sky. She tore and tore away at everything the town had thought to be true. Shards of perfect blue floated to the ground. They landed at the feet of the stunned towns people. For once everyone was speechless.

And then a very curious thing happened. Various signs from around the town started drifting into the sky. Letters from the supermarket shopfront and the school and the stationary store levitating in the midst of the shredded sky. Neon letters and old rusty signs gathered and began spelling out words. Words that, for some reason, everyone knew was the truth. As if a message from the gods of suburbia, who Dahlia now knew didn't exist. Everyone held their breath as the final words were being formed. Nothing else mattered to them than what the words would say. Suddenly Dahlia let out a shrill cry of pain. And everyone looked towards her.

Her heart was pierced. The blood dripping excruciatingly slowly.

And then the words in the sky lit up. And what they said made no sense to the residents of Sommerville. Why would it after all? The meaning of  any words formed in the sky was baffling. But these were extremely puzzling, especially since they said: SUBURBIA IS A LIE.

And no one really knew what to do then. Their whole belief system was ruined.
***

WOW! that was long. i'm sure my English teacher will have fun reading that. Thats what he gets for setting NO WORD LIMIT!!!! which is basically heaven for me. SO what do you people think? I know it's a bit random and might seem all puzzling at the moment, but I really think if I ever finish it it will be full of SUPER AWESOME OWNAGENESS.
Anyway. I will just finish with showing some pictures that make me inspired:




All images I got from google images and pinterest. Except for the last one, which is a picture from my journal. These lyrics is what inspired me for the end of the story.


TA DA!



Please tell me what you think about the story. What do you think will happen next???

LOVE CARLA

2 comments:

  1. I think that you are such great writer and the story was amazing! I love how the suburbs have that creepy essence to them, like clones almost! It's really interesting how you made the town seem so sinister by using personification. Amazing! I really don't know what's going to happen next!

    ReplyDelete
  2. nice pictures!

    xx

    www.aroundlucia.com
    www.aroundlucia.com

    ReplyDelete