Wracking her brain for some profound statements designed to pressure the reader into pushing his mind past the level of standby-citizen to a level that never allows one to cease to question the world around him, the girl became sick. She felt disgusted and overpowered by the idea that when writing a story, a writer must seek to find a universal meaning, and once that quest is accomplished, the author must become a slave to it, using all her talent to incorporate the thought. Universal meaning completely irritated the child. No matter how absurd her stories, the girl's English teacher always managed to find the "deeper meaning." The budding novelist even reached a point where she contaminated her stories with talking fireplaces and breathing fences to throw off her English teacher, but the distractions did not work, and the girl fell back into submission, and capped her creativity to receive a desirable grade.
After becoming weary of the whole English topic, the maiden went to her garage and selected a slightly perspiring grape soda. She snapped the tab and let the liquid trickle down her throat, allowing every molecule to remain on every taste bud until the flavor was imprinted in her brain. This was refreshing to her burnt-out mind and for a quick moment transferred her to a distant place, free of universal meaning, English teachers and rules pertaining to writing.
The aluminum can could have been bottomless but instead ran a few ounces short, and all too soon the girl found herself plopped, once again, in front of the computer. Dust filled the cracks of the keyboard and the screen remained black, waiting for its master to put it to use, but instead another gleaming box stole the girl's attention.
The intriguing box depicted sand flying from all sides to present a trial to very dark silhouettes. Although cameras zoomed in, the sand remained too dense to reveal the mysterious shapes. The child moved closer but the clarity of the figures did not improve. Abruptly, the shots transformed to those of a fallen body. The corpse once stood high as a symbol of authority, but now people dragged it through the streets, decapitated it, tore it from limb to limb; it deserved no respect. After this footage, there were images depicting lives of misery and pain. People with disfigured bodies from blasts displayed confusion. Chaos brought forth anger while lost schools produced sadness.
The multiple pictures overwhelmed the child and she destroyed them with a mere "click." Returning her mind to the neglected Mac, the girl remained solemn for a while. Then dust flew from the keyboard as wildly and rapidly as it does from a rug being beaten. Endless words filled the computer screen as quickly as they entered the young woman's head. She wrote with fury and anger and determination and thankfulness and joy and contentment. She no longer dwelled on the rules and regulations - break them or meet them, she did not care. 1
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.