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Going Insane Through Writing

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I sit down with the paper in front of me. I see the white shade laying there. I write my first line, “Once upon a time...” it’s a very cheesy first line. Its been used over and over throughout history, but I believe I can make something of it.

Give it another meaning.

Make it appeal to the readers of todays society.

As I see the ink spill onto the page, I get more into my character. I can feel myself in his shoes.

I run through the forests of Alderan, fighting of Gliboglobber’s and Schnokintopper’s.

I ally myself with the Zomper’s.

I stop.

I look around. Paper. Pen. Coffee cup. Motrin.

No forests of Alderan. No Gliboglobber’s, Schnokintopper’s, or Zompers.

Where am I?

Oh yeah. I got so lost up in my fantasy world that I actually thought I was non-human.

I stop writing. I run my hand over the leather book as I close it. The leather has a touch like none other.

All this writing could take a man to insanity.

I look towards the clock. I see the second hand ticking away. Staring at it for only a few seconds I realize I was checking the time.

Both the minute and hour hand are on the 12.

It was of course 12 pm because I had started to write at 12 am.

No wonder my hand was throbbing. I had written through the second half of my day, and now it was over.

I get lost in this book.

It’s the first I’ve written. The first to start of my career.

I think to keep writing but my hand still throbs with intense pain.

I pop the top off the Motrin and pour two of the orange pills into my hand. The I throw the pills to the back of my mouth. I swig down some coffee. Its gone cold. I feel the liquid stream down my throat.

I get up and out of the chair and walk down the hall. I enter my bathroom and begin to brush my teeth.

Something laughs.

I recognize the sound.

A quick step out of the bathroom and a Schnokintopper runs by.

I rub my eyes. Its to late. The pain is in them.

My eyes open all to fast.

Nothing.

A good nights rest will get rid of these illusions I see.

I lay in my bed. I can feel the fluffed pillow underneath it.

My eyes are heavy.

They close.

I wake to a buzzing in my ears. It’s my alarm. I forgot to unset it after my year of graduating college with a majors degree in English. I’m unemployed. Nothing to do. No reason for an alarm. Why do I leave it set? I’m an author. Authors need sleep.

I’m an author. My book. My sleep must have rested it from my mind.

I hit the alarm and the buzzing ceases in my ears.

My eyes heave shut.

Darkness.

I wake. It’s already three in the afternoon. My eyes are no longer heavy.

I go to my desk.

The leather book still sits. I open it and continue to write.

Once again my mind is lost in this beautiful world.

I’m fighting a dragon with my sword. It breathes fire towards me, the heat is there. I dodge it. I take out a smoke bomb. It’s thrown to the ground. The smoke clouds my vision. Its mustiness cloud my nostrils.

I hear the dragon thumping towards me as the smoke clears. I cut its throat. I falls and dies.

I leave the dragons cave, cleaning its blood from my sword. Its put away. A screeching sound comes to my ears, then I'm hefted into the air by my shoulders.

I go to retrieve my sword, but I can’t. This cursid monster has somehow bound my arms to my chest. I struggle to get out of it, I can’t.

Its like a straight jacket.

As this creature continues to fly I see a kingdom come to view.

As it lowers me I can see a man who I know I will come to hate. He force feed me some sort of sedative.

I am thrown into a room of mushrooms. They are soft. It’s like padding.

I struggle to get out of this binding which the flying monster has put me in. It loosens. It comes undone, but it has gone from a soft green goo to a soft white cloth.

The mushrooms, they’ve gone from mushrooms to pillowish padding.

That was no gooey substance, it was a straight jacket.

That wasn't a flying monster, it was two men picking me up.

I have gone from a sane writer to an insane person.

I’m in an insane asylum!

No worry, my thoughts will comfort me.

I’m back in the lost forests of Alderan.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

mjwied92 said...
Jul. 1, 2009 at 11:21 pm
ok guys. first of all its a MAN. alos this is a class assignment and its very believable.
 
gkegrace This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 28, 2009 at 11:33 pm
Creative, but not realy believable. I think you need to try being more honest about what you're writing about, you know what I mean? And (I know, it's been hammered itnto your head thousands of times by various people) write about what you know. The graduate school woman (or man, I'm not sure it says) isn't really believable. So maybe a teen having all these troubles. I don't know, but experiment with transitions and with not being afraid of what you want to say.
 
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