Austin

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hi8gfvdaW4E

 This girl who waits aside her windowpane every night can only see in black and white. She has an eerie beauty about her, with that white hair draping meekly down her spine, and green Doe eyes piercing through life. Flat faced with a nose that perches’ upwards, and blood stained lips that seem to always be frowning, even when smiling. Dark brown high arched eyebrows that contour her ivory colored round face. She lives the upper class life in Britain for her father is something of royalty. She has no mother for she died giving birth to her older sister, Sierra. The girl does not obtain many friends. Scoffing, I have to admit that this is an exaggeration. She does not have any friends. She often feels disconnected to people, as though she doesn’t belong in her own kingdom of species. As though her mind is in a constant attempt to thrash through that physical boundary of existence to become a ravaged animal. Even as a young child her family questioned her abnormal and often primitive behavior, but learned to brush it aside, for child tendencies seem to grow out of people.

It was yet another dewy summer morning. The ivy that enveloped her home awakened as the sun elevated from the Earth, and the roses set outside the front windows glistened from the spotted drops of moisture. Each day at dusk the girl would sneak out of the house to greet nature and it’s members. She would stand in the center of the trees, close her eyes, dig her fragile toes into the plush moss, caress the humid air, and take a staggered breath, losing herself in the serenity of that moment. “Honey!” called her father in an almost worried tone. With a quick jump, there came a deep sigh along with a single tear, for she had no desire to return. She began to run towards her father’s voice and reassured him by her presence. “Oh honey, outside again are we? I honestly don’t understand what’s so fascinating out here”, he exclaimed as he stared down at the world with his squinting eyes and curled up lip. “Anyhow. You need to get ready for school now. Go upstairs and get changed.” She merely nodded, and departed from her father’s misunderstandings, only looking back to see him crushing a cigarette under his boots.

She went to a private school. People were generally kind, and she was the top of her class, receiving praise among her teachers and envy among her peers for her intelligence was, at times, almost questionable. She however, couldn’t care less of her book smart attributes, for life outside of this civilized conformity was far more desirable. She often thought of escaping from everything. From society. From the restrictions and accusations people nailed down upon her. Even from existence. One day, the girl was involved in a quarrel with another student. Her name was Penelope Dragston. She was heavier set, with narrow blue eyes, a petite straight nose, and a full bottom lip. She was an heiress who many people often said had vinegar running through her veins, and serpents for hair. She also never had a taking to the girl and often snared behind her back, making comments of obscene criticisms and using crude, filthy vocabulary. As the girl attempted to sly by Penelope, she, of course, stumbled a bit, and drew all the attention from the very girl she was trying to ignore. Penelope sniggered, “ ‘ave two left feet do you?” She paused, examined the girl from head to toe, opening her wide trap ever so slightly, and whispered, “I guess you’re just tired from being off your feet all night, I wouldn’t be able to walk properly either if I was always on my back”, all the while bearing a grimy smile and satisfied cruelty. The girl’s blood concentrated to her face, her hands clenching, and breathing off beat. Within a second was chaos; her body elevating back to the sky, hand drenched, shirt stained, a feeling of uplifting regret, and a sadistic urge to harm even further. She raised her head. People’s hands were covering their mouths, gasping, and in complete state of confusion. A teacher ran towards, what looked like, an already decaying body and placed her crippled hand upon the soft flesh of the victim. On the verge of tears, in a whimper, “She’s dead.” The woman looked up at her, mouth quivering. The girl began to retreat backwards, and suddenly hearing echoing footsteps approaching, her instinct was to escape, as that was the only means of survival at that point. So she pushed through the crowd, no one stopping her, for you can imagine the fear embedded in their minds.

The Girl finally came to a halt, placing herself in a stingy alleyway, resting her mind and body upon the clammy brick wall. // What am I to do now? // She asked herself. She could not describe her murder, especially one of such unintentional gore. But was it unintentional? Of course she did not plan it, but at that moment, she thought it possible that she had every intention of doing so. She was at once in solitude, and the thought of returning would be like marching to her deathbed. So she decided she would spend her time drafting from place to place, evaporating from people’s memories and devoting her time to nothing. She did however yearn for an adventure of self-finding, for she was completely aware of her compared insanity to the human race. She needed to be far away from where she was standing. She nervously rummaged through her brown satchel purse in hopes to fall upon some loose change for the train station, but could only find a few pennies and a pencil. She was left with no other option but to hop the train, for hitch hiking only brought back the memory of once catching a ride with a man who was deranged, never letting that blurred vision of those piercing blue eyes hovering above her slip away. The girl hops on the train, stays on until the next morning, and decided that she would stay there for a few months to work. She is located in a poverty stricken, grimy city where children were already wastrels and hope was considered a fantasy. She tried looking for work as quickly as possible, but after numerous attempts, she were only to find that a high school dropout could not get much. One night, as she is cutting through the alleyway she meets Lyla, a 14 year old prostitute, and and tells her the failure of the job search. Lyla then gives her a second option for work, telling the girl that there is a way to sell yourself without actual penetration. “You’ll be used as a doll. Something that they can play with, but not expecting anything in return.”

The girl accepts the offer and works for a few months, for she did not want to be indebted to a job since she was planning to not stay long. Along the way she was privileged by meeting interesting people, and even falling in love. His name was Raphael. He was one of her customers but the relationship led to something more than just two people in the acts of desperation. She asked if he would like to join her for she would be leaving soon, but he could even let a word, he was murdered in a petty afternoon drug dealing brawl. After his unfortunate death, she needed to leave. Her life was becoming depressing and she was not doing what she was set out to do. She was still in the city and wanted to go to the country side. Although she felt more at home with people’s poverty and savagely like ways of living, she needed clean air for her contaminated lungs were ready to collapse. She doesn’t say Goodbye to anyone except Lyla, which she left her a note by her bedside. She spent her superfluous amount of money on canned foods, transportation, and warm clothing for the frosty air foreshadowed a bitter winter. She set on her way and walked to the train station, She climbed aboard, and hoped to be on her way to something other than poverty and filth. As she closed her eyes the thought of her father and sister tingled underneath her skin, wondering if they were even looking for her, having doubt that they were. The girl knew they would eventually forget, although they would be distraught for some time, the memories of having a daughter, of a sister, would seep out of their recollections and evaporate into the very air they take for granted. Her mind was becoming at ease as flash of light fell upon her face as her head lay restlessly on the foggy windowpane. She opened her eyes like heavy drapes to see an auburn colored sky and tall grass swaying in the wind. Her heart quickly sank as quickly as it lifted once again. As if innately, she sprang from her seat with shaking limbs and ordered the conductor to stop the train. “Miss-You need to take your seat. The next stop won’t be for another hour.” “Please, let me go. I-just-I need to get away”, she cried as her sleeve mopped her face and concerned eyes belittled her words. “Ma’am we will get you help if you need it when we stop, but we can not stop this train.” With a stern glare, mouth closed, and controlled breathing. “Fine. I’ll just do it myself.” Although one might think she would actually stop the train, she simply strutted towards the back of the train, exited through the door, maintained balance upon the links between the two train compartments, stood there for a brief second, eyes closed, and leapt into the field, only hearing a slight thump. Her chest elevated and lowered in deep heaves as the cool grass eased the warmth of the sun. Her eyelids opened only to a squint, body rising like a zombie from it’s grave, head swiveling on a stilt. She got to her feet and began walking, running her fingers through the wispy plants, the sun beginning to change colors as creatures began to erupt from every direction, greeting her, welcoming her. She sat down under of a reborn oak tree, legs crossed, hand on knees, finally content with her life…It was nearing nightfall. The cutting air became dismal, and there were sounds that were new to her ears. She added more layers to her body, and curled up like the small child she was, and tried to sleep for she yearned for the light that would allow her to feast upon the beauty around her. In the last moments of nearing dead sleep, she felt steamy, uneven breaths enveloping her face, and something straw like began tickling her lips. She barely opened her eyes to see glowing ones, staring right back into hers. She stopped breathing in hopes that the creature would no longer smell the rich flowing blood within her vein…Then A hallowed growl, for it was then that she knew the creature was becoming more hungry with each breath she took. The girl was naive. She felt as that just because she believed herself to belong in the wild, that somehow, when spoken to, she could persuade the creature to not harm her. In a whimper of desperation. .”Please…Don’t.” As quickly as those words slipped, no poof her body was left behind. She crawled as silently as she could to find some form of weapon to ward off the creature, finally managing to feel with her fingertips to find a hefty broken branch. As she grasped it, four distinct claws struck into her spine, dragging her partially mangled body closer to it’s body turning her over so as to give her the opportunity to strike the animal across it’s face, and escape. As she did so the sun began changing colors once again, making her murderer more visible, she found it to be a fully grown tiger with a wounded, splintered face. She was feet away from the beast. It lunged towards her, its stomach being a bull’s eye for her next strike. She thrust the weapon forward, a excruciating scream echoed throughout, and her body being forced down upon her back. As soon as hit the ground, a shooting pain struck her stomach. Silence. Slow air surrounding her face, tiny drops of blood fell upon her pale cheek. The animal’s heartbeat and hers were in synchronization in slowing rhythmic vibrations, and as they glowered in each other’s eyes, she began to feel weaker…weaker...Objects were meshing together, her memories slipping her away...The more her identity seemed to disappear, a new source of life erupted through her, knowing nothing more than a primal instinct of protection and survival. The animal began to wake, somewhat confused about what just happened for it knew that there was a battle with a human. There, mangled, and dead, was a fair young girl sprawled upon the Earth, with a stake protruding from it’s abdomen. It lurked towards the figure, whiffed its primitive scent, and took a bite out of the milky flesh, for in the wild, satisfying one’s hunger, is instinct.

It was the animal in her that created the insanity. For an untamed animal cannot live in such conformity. They are to fend for themselves. Protect their young. They are in every one of us, waiting to be set free.