aerialmelodies: (Writing)
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Prompt provided by [community profile] dailyprompt of dreamwidth (Daily Prompt for those of you on LJ in case the tag doesn't work).

A tiny yelp escaped from my lips as briars tore into my skin. I couldn’t stop running, though. My life depended on it. The crisp, cool air smelled of burning leaves and cinnamon, but to stop and enjoy it would be a deadly mistake. This isn’t the world my mother had gifted unto me; it was a terrible place full of constant danger and dreary black skies. Thick clouds billowed up above the horizon, looming overhead like a tidal wave waiting to crash down to earth and thrust us all into total darkness. That is, if anyone else was alive.

The gnarled tree branches began to look familiar. I knew this space and all it’s secrets. There would be a safe space to hide in under a rotting tree that had long since given up on life in this horrible place. I quickly clamoured deep within, grateful that it had given up its life so that I could continue mine yet sad that neither of us really had a life at all. Is there another world I’m not aware of? I thought. Surely there had to be. I could remember days filled with the golden light of the sun, igniting fields of red poppies that stood out against a rich blue sky. The sounds of birds flying through the fluffy white clouds and the scent of freshly cut grass filled my heart with joy. Surely this place still existed or why would I have these memories?

A blessing and yet a curse, those memories. I pulled my journal from beneath a pile of damp leaves and thumbed through entries. Stories of my mother, a caring soul who was taken by this cruel world in a way too horrific for me to even describe. My little sister who had long, blonde curls with a pink bow on top - always - and who may still be struggling to survive in this place just as I was. At least I had not heard of her death. Our family pet, Samson, a small mixed-breed dog with adorable floppy ears and a curly tail was always at her side to protect her. He was brave, and so I felt confident assuming she was alive and as well as well could be in this world of the dead. Then there was my father, a man I had grown to fear as a child and who was, in my eyes, one of the many who had turned this place against itself, demanding that the sun stop shining and plunging us all into darkness. Other more recent stories described grisly scenes in once former glorious cities: skyscrapers were reduced to twisted metal tearing upward to the sky as though it was the only way out of here; parks had grown brown and overgrown with decaying limbs and mangled vines; sidewalks and roads long since crumbled making them nearly impossible to follow.

There must be another world. There must be a place where my sister and I could reunite. Perhaps Samson had guided her there long ago and she was waiting for me. I have to get out of here and find that place where the warmth of the sun lights up the land and the sweet, salty sea air permeates the breeze. I clutched my small labradorite pendant tightly, the only thing I had left from our home out on the water, and cried.

Not all prompts conjure up darker imagery for me, but I will warn that I do love dark, twisted stories that rock the main character(s) to the core. There's something interesting about human nature when in need to survive away from the comforts we know today and that interest often comes out in my writing. It's also why I admittedly fell in love with Walking Dead (besides the fact it was filmed in Atlanta, hehe). I may or may not pick these stories back up again to indulge more, but I love using these prompts as a way to spark my creativity in my other artistic endeavors. So enjoy... I hope! 


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November 2011

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