Genre 2
Flash Fiction Narrative: A Life That Could Have Been
Life is a ribbon of moments in our lives that are captured by each string of memories. Each memory is recalled in our minds, weaving and twirling to form our life. Memories of bright days shining moments of laughter and joy. Others fogging our thoughts with recollections of hardships and agony. Every memory recorded was born from a time that happened. The underside of the ribbon can expose the world that could have been. For every moment in our life stringed along, the polar choice lingers in the underside of the ribbon, lurking in utter disgust of the path we chose.
The dust twinkled in the fresh morning glow throughout the abandoned attic, piercing through the moth-bitten curtains laced in cobwebs. Beneath the thirteenth cracked floor board, I knew that's where she hid it. It whispered my name and carried it through the thick air. I clutched the brittle paper with her last words delicately dancing around the page. Glimpsing at it for the seventh time, the words flickered throughout my conflicting thoughts once more.
"Through the mirrored wall, a world is upside down, blindly gaze into what could have been. Stepping right, it captured my left. Leaning in further, it hushed my head. For my thoughts were bright, soaked in innocent laughter. Staring into darkness as it lurked and hissed against my reflection. Something sparkled, through the mirror it died. As I took a breath, it punctured a lung. Take a look, have a taste for yourself. She paralyzes the running of your thoughts. Her thoughts of escape itch at her chains. She craves of inverse, she's craving you. The mirrored wall can never be opened. As you step forward, she feeds on the path you could have chosen," my voice drifted off into the creaking room.
Moments of contradicting thoughts pass as each thought tangles my head and rushes through my veins, leaving me muddled. I was nothing but a clueless, spoiled child holding a dangerous letter from her dead grandmother that held clear warnings of danger. Deceiving thoughts filled my head until the point where I had to surrender. My body was relentless, rapidly reaching for the floor board. Throwing myself onto the splintered floor, I ripped at the corners of the board, grasping with intense force in order to set the board free. At last the board released, flinging me back to the floor where I peered at the wide area bare without the wood. Beneath the darkness lay a large object resting under a scratched tarp. The fine layer of dust awoke as I reached for the tarp, whipping it away and revealing a glimmering article. My fingers delicately traced the thin metal frame as I gazed into the lustrous mirror. My mind and body were hushed at the sight of the mirror. I knew of the power it possessed, the ability to show my inverted world. It held the potential to show me a life without a family. A life without bliss. A life of no color, except shades of sorrow and despair. A life where I didn't have my wings to help me soar through my life of elation.
Staring intently into the glass, an image of my inversed life was reflected back. I looked down into the mirror face-to-face with the me that could have been. There she was. Surrounded in agonizing pain, staring back from the other side of the glass. Standing frozen in place, I glared at an image that twisted my heart and left it throbbing with an aching pulse. Wanting nothing more than to look away from her tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes, I continued to watch. She lifted up her head and attempted to stand. Only to have the weight of unused decisions shove her back onto the cold, lonely floor. She tried again, this time falling straight down, leaving her body limp and weak throughout. She just wanted to fly... fly away from the chains strangling her down to the life I didn't choose. But I glance once more into the mirror to find the answer. Torn and ripped, jagged and ruined... broken wings attached to her back. Now I know that she will be laying there forever, to die and rot in the puddle of despair... because everyone knows, broken wings can't fly.
An eternity of staring into the mirror drifted away, while I was abandoned inside with only the image reflected in the mirror burning deep within my soul. A flood of memories came pouring into my thoughts, but they weren't mine. They were the opposite of each memory, they were her memories. Now with each step I take forward, she lives my steps back. With each moment of light, she is consumed in absolute darkness. For she can never escape my rejected path. Every moment in my life is stringed along and my polar choices linger in the underside of the ribbon, lurking in utter disgust of the path I chose.
Reflection
Creating my Flash Fiction Narrative: "A Life That Could Have Been," was a really enjoyable experience for me. My inspiration for the plot and overall idea of the story was my poem, "The Inversed Mirror." I took the same storyline and played around with it a bit in order to create an interesting and well written narrative piece. I really enjoyed writing this piece because it was a calming way for me to express my ideas about my MGRP topic of opposites. The general concept of my story wasn't difficult to produce. The part that was challenging about writing this piece was trying to make the story events flow in a fluent way, refraining from having a choppy story plot. I had to start by writing out the basic words for my rough draft. Then when I went back to revise my piece, I changed the structure of some sentences to create a more fluent read. I am really proud of this narrative because I think that I captured all the aspects that make a great narrative. My inspiration from researching poems about opposites helped me spark an idea of writing about this concept of an "inversed life" that we each have in the parallel dimension in our lives. Specific goals that I tried to achieve in this flash fiction narrative piece was staying on topic by conveying the idea of opposites and having a good plot line and hook to keep the reader engaged throughout the piece. I achieved this by using techniques such as focusing the story on one main character and leaving the readers thinking by ending with a conclusion that isn't really the end (leaves the reader in suspense and thought of their own lives). I reviewed my final piece multiple times against the narrative checklist used previously in our narrative unit to make sure that my piece matched each aspect and criteria needed to create a great narrative story.