General Art A Mini Anthology

[Xinnamin]

So I have this creative writing seminar class I'm currently taking where every week we have a short themed writing assignment. I haven't written creatively in a long time, and even back when I did write, I rarely wrote anything that wasn't fanfiction. Given that, on the hopes that I can get some comments/criticisms/pointers or whatever on my work from outside the classroom, I decided that every week I would just post whatever I had here.

Theme: Introduce a character torn between Dream and Reality

Chrysanthemum

The entirely community of Birmingham Valley, to be quite frank and honest, appealed to Lucia about as much as a possum carcass appealed to a kindergarten girl. Like a carcass, the entire town was aged, lifeless, barren hills towering over barren valleys and barren plains even the weeds won’t touch. The people appealed to her even less, all of them cantankerous old schoolmasters, ill-bred delinquent youths, or alcoholic junkies with nowhere else to squat. No one with a future stayed in Birmingham Valley, because Birmingham Valley had no future to grant. At 19 years of age with a promising talent for landscaping, Lucia stood out like a sore, neon thumb.

There was a small crevice in the hillside farthest away from what people called the center of the town, a small cave almost, that led to an isolated valley not far from the town borders. No valley in all of Birmingham had higher walls; no valley in all of Birmingham was better hidden. This was the place where Lucia could leave behind her troubles, where she could just revel in the sunlight and fresh air and not worry about some rogue 8th grade boy picking her pockets while her back was turned. She would come here to garden and landscape, losing herself among the fields of chrysanthemums she tended and arranged. As much as Lucia wanted to get out of Birmingham, as much as she wanted to leave behind the crime infested alleyways and 24-hr bars that made up the little town, she never wanted to leave this valley of dreams. She was always here, even when she wasn’t. She could just close her eyes anywhere and find her mind just making its way back through the crevice into the sunlit garden, as real in her dreams as in reality.

Her mind was still in her garden when her father staggered through the front door. The chill of a 3 AM wind blew away the chrysanthemums.

“Another bar fight?”

“Watch yo’ mouth, an’ go gemme sumthin tuh eat. Dem bar girls dunno how to treat a man right.”

This had become a daily routine, part of the misery that had become ingrained within Birmingham Valley. Nightly cycles of drunkenness and irritability, Lucia just wanted to escape it all, and she would have left already, left long ago, if her drunkard of a father didn’t make it so difficult.

She drew the tattered box of last week’s unfinished pizza out of the old fridge and brought it into the dingy living room, the only source of light being the tiny, oft broken TV her father never turned off, the static buzzing ringing like a persistent fly in her ear. She could feel her father’s bloodshot stare following her movements, fixed like a hungry bulldog on a squirrel, as she set down the pizza and left the room. She never looked her father in the eyes these days, but those eyes followed her everywhere. They could find her anywhere, any time she tried to leave, escape, free herself from this oppressive dingy valley. They would find her, and they would drag her back. She still bore the scars of the last battle.

But they could not follow her into her garden; no one could follow her into her garden. She was safe among the rows and rows and rows of chrysanthemums, hiding in their light and splendor, planning herself a future where Birmingham Valley was but a haze of a memory long disappeared.

She was walking down the narrow limestone corridor towards the golden light at the end. Soft petals waved in the wind, beckoning her closer into their midst. Sunlight wrapping around her shoulders as she stepped into the garden, her garden. The bloodshot glare was gone now; it never dared enter her haven. She could see them, almost feel them, all her plans for the future laid themselves out as perfect, and as intangible, as the golden chrysanthemum rows.

 

[Xinnamin]

For the record, since these are one-a-week assignments, I've just decided I'mma post my work here every Friday afternoon.
Also for the record, I notice I like writing angsty stuff...a lot... :/

Theme: Explore a character as they slip, slide, or leap off the deep end by doing something they know will harm them.

Good Night

He hasn’t seen me yet, hasn’t seen me for weeks and probably never wanted to see me again, but today, of all days, he’s standing right there. Right in the middle of a deserted path, staring off into space. Didn’t even think to bring an umbrella, but he had always been a bit absentminded. After all, he hasn’t seen me yet, though I’m fairly certain rainboots make a lot of noise. I almost want to turn around and take the long way home. He hasn’t seen me yet, so I should just count my luck and leave things be. Avoid confrontation, I told myself, he doesn’t want to see me, just turn around and go another way.

I walk straight up to him. He doesn’t show any signs of noticing, just staring off into the darkened sky. I offer my umbrella over his head. He still says nothing. At this point I just fidget around awkwardly for a few minutes trying to figure out how in all hell I’m supposed to proceed with this idiotic brashness of mine. Still sort of thinking it’d be better to just walk away, but there was no way I would ever be able to face him again if I did that. Not that he wants to face me now, but hey, I can’t exactly only go halfway with this.

“I know I messed up…” The words came out so cracked and timid I couldn’t believe it was my voice speaking. I can see him visibly cringe out of the corner of my eye. “…but it’s been weeks.”

“Betrayal doesn’t go away that easily.”

“Can’t you find a distraction of some kind? An outlet?”

“You already took away everything that matters.”

“It can’t have been the only thing…”

“Oh REALLY now?”

I think my heart bounced up against my ribcage. In retrospect, bringing up that incident after weeks of no contact whatsoever was probably the worst possible thing I could have done, you know, if you discount the actual “going up and talking to him” part. Walking away without another word is starting to look mighty tempting, but there is still that one part of me that can’t seem to drop this mess of a problem. I really should stop.
“It doesn’t make sense that that could have been your whole world. How was there nothing else?”

“I’m a simple man.”

“I just…can’t wrap my mind around that.”

I could see a flash of movement in the corner of my eye, and out of sheer impulse I flinched back. He had turned to face me now, stepping just out from under where my umbrella used to be. Oh crud I messed up big time this time didn’t I? This is my first glimpse at his face all night, and I can’t tell if it’s the rain what wet his cheeks.

“I don’t know what more I can say,” his voice was shaking so hard I start to shake myself. “It actually really ticks me off, like I’m grinding my teeth. You can’t even wrap your head around how much all of it meant to me. That hurt more than anything you’ve ever done.”

“I’m sorry.” I can’t even hear my own voice anymore past the thundering of the rain. Whatever I had thought I was doing, whatever I thought I was trying to accomplish, everything just broke apart right then and there, and I can’t even hear my own voice anymore.

“Just go.”

I turn and run. Was that me or was that him speaking? Was that me or was that him banishing the other? Was that me or was that him, or was that both? I’ve never felt so humiliated, so ashamed, so far off the deep end that I can’t even tell where the surface is anymore in all this infernal rain.

 

[Xinnamin]

I started running out of synonyms several times while writing this.

Theme: Stuck somewhere facing something unpleasant

Musophobia

Dark corridors smell of something frightening, though it’s almost impossible to say what that something frightening actually is. It wasn’t the musk of the damp, mildewed walls, strong as the stench may be. Nor was it the fumes of the gas or sewage pipes that crisscrossed about from ceiling to floor like warped prison bars. Misa shivered and tried to not dwell on any of these things; she was, after all, not intending to stay down here very much longer, if she could help it. How very embarrassing to be lost in her grandfather’s maze of a basement.

A left turn here, a right turn there, some backtracking every time a dead end intrudes upon her path, it really is impossible to say why any basement should be so convoluted. It was also impossible to believe that such gloomy catacomb could be part of the same elegant Victorian manor that was her grandfather’s world; the dank and gloomy grey walls illuminated by little more than the flashlight Misa always has with her are a far cry from the grandiose velvety hallways upstairs, bathed in the warm glows of chandeliers.

The stench was as strong as ever, impossible to put words to it, other than how incredibly fast it made Misa’s heart beat. It would have been so easy to just backtrack her way out of these corridors had she bothered to keep tabs of her surroundings in her insatiably curious explorations. Of course she hadn’t thought to do so, and by now her sense of direction was shot; but in her defense, the basement didn’t seem nearly so convoluted nor foreboding when she had first entered, but old crawl spaces have a way of deteriorating the farther one crawls in.
Misa must have crawled really far in.

The stench was getting stronger now, no more identifiable, but at least more definable. It was musky, rather aged-smelling, something like stagnant water gone bad if such a thing exists. Misa decided to turn a different path, get away from the smell, her light shook so hard in her hands, groping for a way out, but she soon found herself entangled in the convulsing darkness. The smell got stronger down every corridor, even when she backtracked it seemed, her footsteps echoing ever faster.

A blur of motion caught her eye, leading to a lump of soft shadow wedged against the wall. The moment the trembling light hit the silhouette, the stench ensnared her. The musk of damp fur rose from swarms of mites feasting on the putrid vapor of decaying fat, a haze of the foulest degree emanated from beady milky orbs that stare but do not see.

Clangs of metal hitting concrete echoed down the corridors, mixing with the ba-bum ba-bum of a racing heart. The smell of Misa’s fear mingled with the smell of the rat’s remains, choking the very breath out of her. The fallen flashlight came to rest facing a crack in the wall, reflecting off several pairs of beady glassy orbs. The smell of death was overpowered by the smell of filth: living filth. Filthy blood rushing through those filthy rodent veins, an aura of rusty heat emanating from those filthy furry bodies, stale earth and rancid waste encrusted about those filthy dusty pelts. Their combined screeches echoed in tangent to Misa’s screams.

The stench, oh God the stench, Misa couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, choking over her own fear and adrenaline, stumbling in a darkness that threatened to engulf her. The screeching rung in her ears, the rusty, musky vapor gagging her senses. Where is the exit? Where is the way out?

She collapsed against the wall with a thud, heartbeat pounding against the concrete walls, bouncing off its own echos like a snare drum, the salty aura of tears and perspiration weaving into the musk of fear and death and vermin filth and waste and mildew and cold concrete and darkness. Where is the exit? Where is the way out?

Please don’t let me be trapped like a rat in a maze…

 

[Xinnamin]

Theme: Force a grouchy or awkward character to do something he/she doesn't want to do

The Qoir

So I had just left the cafeteria with my friends when I saw this flyer up on the wall. There was some kind of party being hosted tonight over at the main fraternity building on the other side of campus. Buddy behind me suggested we should go check it out, and everybody agreed. It had been a while since the last good one. We all agreed to meet up at 10 pm that evening in the common room.

Seeing as how there was no way now I could finish my paper for Intro to Expository in the dead of night tonight, I told everyone I was heading back to my dorm to finish it now. Now, most people wouldn’t stay cooped up inside on a nice Saturday afternoon, but I wasn’t surprised at all to find that my roommate had not moved an inch from his computer desk where I saw him this morning. I’m surprised I still even notice he’s here half the time.

Music is pumping and Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” comes on for the umpteenth time and before I know it the clock is reading 10:15. Paper is finished and I’m halfway out the door when I suddenly realize my roommate is still there at his computer. Never really noticed before just how pale he is.

“Hey Austin!” I call. He doesn’t give any indication of having heard me. It just occurred to me that I’ve never once seen just what it was that has his face always glued to that computer screen. I call again, tapping on the shoulder too for good measure.

“Hey Austin, take off your headphones for a sec.” He jolts a bit when I tap him.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“There’s a huge frat party tonight. Me and a few buddies were gonna go check it out. Was wondering if you wanted to come with.” It only just occurred to me that his head looks kind of funny without his giant stereo headphones.

Austin just kind of gives me this weird look. “Uh, no thanks, I’d have more fun jumping out a window.”

“Come on dude, when was the last time you went out?”

“Yesterday morning for class?”

“I mean go out for fun, you know, with friends?”

“No I’d rather not, thanks.” And he turns back to his computer. I still have no idea what he spends all day looking at on that computer, and frankly, I didn’t really care right now. Decided it was so much easier just to grab his arm and drag him out.

“What in all hell are you doing?!”

“Come on, you’ll have fun!” And I don’t really give him any room to argue. He’s kind of scrawny, well, loads scrawnier than me anyways. He’s glaring daggers at me and that’s about it. Silent treatment all the way down to the common room.

“Hey Stefan, way to be late. Who’s the fishstick you got with ya?” Buddy waves me over, he and the rest of the gang are all there waiting for me.

“Guys, meet my roommate Austin. Austin, meet the gang.”

“Is she drunk?” He asks me, pointing at Sarah, leaning on one of the lamps; she did look a tad greener than usual, though that could have just been the light.

“Pah, you call THIS drunk?” She calls back.

Austin gave me that weird look again. “Be right back, window.”

“Oh no you don’t Mr. Grouchy-pants. You look like a lightweight, betcha I can drink ya under the table for all you’re worth.”

“Won’t know unless we go. C’mon, we’re burning moonlight!” Buddy leads the way out the main door with everyone in tow. I’m still having to drag Austin with us for the most part, but under that horribly distorted face he keeps making at me, I think I can see a sliver of curiosity.




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Story totes does not allude to anyone we know on ZD, what, you think I'm insane? >_>

 

[Xinnamin]

Took the last story and expanded it, because that was the assignment this week: expand one of the previous stories. Rated PG-13 for slight inappropriate content


The Qoir

So I had just left the cafeteria with my friends when I saw this flyer up on the wall. There was some kind of party being hosted tonight over at this club place just off campus. Buddy, standing behind me, suggested we should go check it out, and everybody agreed. It had been a while since the last good one. We all agreed to meet up at 10 pm that evening in the common room.

Seeing as how there was no way now I could finish my paper for Intro to Expository in the dead of night tonight, I told everyone I was heading back to my dorm to finish it. Now, most people wouldn’t stay cooped up inside on a nice Saturday afternoon, what with the perfectly clear skies and bright sunlight and all, but I wasn’t surprised in the slightest to find that my roommate had not moved an inch from his computer desk where I saw him this morning. I’m surprised I still even notice he’s here half the time.

Pumping my music and Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” comes on for the umpteenth time and before I know it the clock is reading 10:15. Paper is finished and I’m halfway out the door when I suddenly realize my roommate is still there at his computer. Never really noticed before just how pale he is.

“Hey Austin!” I call. He doesn’t give any indication of having heard me. It just occurred to me that I’ve never once seen just what it was that always has his face always glued to that computer screen. I call again, tapping on the shoulder too for good measure.

“Hey Austin, take off your headphones for a sec.” He jolts a bit when I tap him.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“There’s a huge frat party tonight. Me and a few buddies were gonna go check it out. Was wondering if you wanted to come with.” I only just realized that his head looks kind of funny without his giant stereo headphones.

Austin just gives me this weird look, like some bullfrog choking on his own croak. “Uh, no thanks, I’d have more fun jumping out a window.”

“Come on dude, when was the last time you went out?”

“Yesterday morning for class?”

“I mean go out for fun, you know, with friends?”

“No I’d rather not, thanks.” And he turns back to his computer. I still have no idea what he spends all day looking at on that computer, and frankly, I didn’t really care right now. Decided it was so much easier just to grab his arm and drag him out.

“What in all hell are you doing?!” I feel like I’m restraining a flailing fish or something.

“Come on, you’ll have fun!” And I don’t really give him any room to argue. He’s kind of scrawny, well, loads scrawnier than me anyways. He gave up struggling and just glared daggers at me. Silent treatment all the way down to the common room.

“Hey Stefan, way to be late. Who’s the fishstick you got with ya?” Buddy waves me over, he and the rest of the gang are all there waiting for me.

“Guys, meet my roommate Austin. Austin, meet the gang.”

“Is she drunk?” He asks me, pointing at Sarah, leaning on one of the lamps; she did look a tad greener than usual, though that could have just been the light.

“Pah, ya call THIS drunk?” She calls back.

Austin gave me that weird look again. “Be right back, window.”

“Ah no ya don’t Mr. Grouchy-pants. Ya look like a lightweight, betcha I can drink ya under the table for all you’re worth.” Sarah’s slurring a bit.

“Won’t know unless we go. C’mon, we’re burning moonlight!” Buddy leads the way out the main door with everyone in tow. I’m still having to drag Austin with us for the most part, but under that horribly distorted face he keeps making at me, I think I can see a sliver of curiosity.

The party is being held at this club with the most unusual name imaginable: The Qoir. Rumor has it the name was inspired by the club owner’s hyperactive daughter misspelling the word “choir” on her spelling test. Apparently she made some quirky friends cus people found it funny. It’s supposed to be a really fun club to hang at, and a lot of people go there just because the name is so odd. I’ve never been there before, so I was pretty excited. Sarah apparently frequents it a lot and was telling us stories about parties she’s been to there, though she wasn’t making much sense, something about strippers. Austin just kept making that face at her.

The place was bigger than I expected. Loads bigger. The acoustics of the room was simply amazing. I also realized Sarah wasn’t making up the strippers. I could feel Austin starting to struggle against my grip on his arm again.

“Stefan, are you crazy? Dragging me out to a strip club? I thought you said this was a frat party!” He hissed at me.

“I guess the frats decided to go all out.” He glares daggers at me again, but it’s hard to take him seriously with all the strobe lights painting rainbows on his near-vampiric skin. I excuse the two of us from the rest of the gang and drag Austin over to a couch near the drinks table.

“Austin good sir, lighten up!” I all but shove him down into the seat and grab two cups from the table, thrusting one under his nose and waving it madly until he’s forced to take it. “You need to learn to have some fun once in a while.”

He puts the cup back on the table, crosses his arms and legs and gives me that choking bullfrog face again. “Getting drunk off my *** at a strip club isn’t my idea of fun, thanks.”

“And staying cooped up on your computer all day is?”

“Yes, actually, it is.”

My face scrunches a bit. “Just what is it that you’re always doing on your computer anyways? What in all hell is so interesting on there?”

“Anime.”

“Anime?”

“It’s pronounced AH-nee-meh, not AN-nee-may. And before you say anything, no they are not kiddy shows, and no I am not a weeaboo. The stuff I watch is a ****ton better than any of the brain-melting animations they show on American TV stations.”

Austin starts staring silently into space, like he has to make up for talking so animatedly by being quiet now. His lips are slightly snarled, bridge of the nose wrinkled ever so much, eyebrows heavy set, I feel like I’ve seen that face before. I suddenly hear my older brother’s voice in my head. Just what is it that you’re always doing up in that treehouse? Don’t you ever hang out with friends? Then another voice, mousy and timid. They’re action figures! Action figures! I’m not playing with dolls so stop saying that!

Come on Stefan, put down those dolls and go out and hang with other people.

They’re NOT DOLLS!

“Hey boys, you two look like you could use some entertainment~”

I snap back to attention to find this stripper girl leaning over the table, winking at us. The name Destiny was embroidered in fancy pink on her lace garments, perfectly curving around her hips save for a few bulges of green bills. She saunters around the table towards Austin, whose face looks a mix between horror, intrigue, and barely contained hysteria.

“What’s with the sour lemon face, big boy? You look like you could do with some TCL. What do you say?” She was practically on top of Austin at this point, double D cups right at his eye level. From a distance, I would have mistaken his head for a tomato. You’re how old now and still never kissed a girl?

“Sorry ma’am, my friend and I are going to pass this round. Here’s something for your trouble.” I slip a bill into the cleavage of her bra and pull Austin out from under her. The poor boy is only barely able to stand, completely averting the stripper’s highly annoyed glare. I pull him over to one of the more relatively quiet corners of the club.

“Hey man, you alright?” I give him a bit of a shake, and he seems to get his bearings back in order.

“Yeah, I just…that was…I don’t…”

“Dude, chill, you’re fine.” I smile what I hope is a reassuring smile. “You know, that face you were making right before she came up to us, it reminded me of something. It made me think of how my older brother used to drag me to parties I didn’t want to go to, and I would make faces at him, and he would take pictures to embarrass me.”

“I thought you loved parties.”

“Didn’t use to, not until my brother introduced me to some good friends at one. I used to just stay holed up by myself all day until I found out how much fun going out was. Just have to learn to loosen up, you know?”

Austin looks at me incredulously, but there’s a strange wonder in his expression. He almost starts to say something when Sarah comes bounding over with two red plastic cups.

“There ya are, fishstick! Didn I tell ya I would drink ya under the table?” She thrusts one of the cups right up to Austin’s face, smirking. “Well now’s time ta prove it.”

“You don’t have to, you know.” I hold my hand up and back off. “I won’t make you, and Sarah’s WAY too drunk to try anything.”

Austin cracks a smile at that. I don’t know what he plans to do now, but at least he’s not making that choking bullfrog face anymore, and that’s good enough for me.