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Creative Writing Narrative Essay

Congratulations. Five syllables. One word. A million sparks of energy surge through my body sending my every nerve into a hypnotic awe. It was as though you were falling in a dream and being kicked out of it. A moment of realisation this must be just a dream, and for that reason alone I refuse to let it sink into my conscience. The world will remain a tone, a sound wave having happened to penetrate through my very existence, bouncing off the walls of my ears.

Those alike to me filled their faces with confusion; a hidden envy for all that has been given to me. Each of their pupils reflects my own face. A face holding a balance of gratitude and respect, and the other an anticipation of disappointment. My role in my future has been just to wait, but after countless years of just waiting, the future grows dark and sneering, ugly and terrifying. Its laughter reverberating off the walls I have faced each and every day.

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The unknown becomes a scary place, when all you know becomes all you had – my own defence is the reason to my hopelessness. I cling to familiarity only to find myself alone in my own confinement. My ‘personal space’ lost its liberty many years ago. When you are handed the gateway, to an exit, the very though will literally make your stomach convulse. With every knot untied, the memories spill forward. I remember many things about life outside. I cannot let them slip. I spent my day is everything but thinking.

Desperately, I attempted to keep busy. Perhaps all I needed was to remain detached and secluded. My friends began to distance themselves, readying for the very moment of finally saying goodbye. I nod as l walk through our gathering place; they nod back, dismissing my presences as a distraction from their own battles. I allow them that and feel nothing; to them I am now just like a mosquito that stings until you itch a testament to an unhomely invasion. I slept little and dreamt a lot. These were the symptoms of a troubled heart.

If its disease could be captured by man and poured into a bowl of water, it will become a deep, inky blue resembling nothing but poison. Today was the day. Subconsciously, I combed my hair and made sure to stretch, preparing for the final exit. At the precise time it was planned, my name was called. I rose ever so slowly, my steps short and measured, I was concise in my movement, engulfed in so much fear of the unknown. The doors open, the slight arch of my lips and the goose bumps that penetrated my every paw, a dead give-away of the tension I felt.

The screech of the cage door, at its monotonous pace, opened. My feet failed from under me, struggling to make the slightest movement – my mind responded, angry, threatening one more second trapped here and it would combust, sending me into nothingness. The aroma of grass, wet rain and worms took over my senses, and before I could control it, my body took a hold of me and I leaped, spreading my wings as wide as they could go, and finally I was soaring. Everything became a blur, a mirage intertwining as I urged to go higher.

The blue skies engulfed me, and the clean crisp air of the morning brushed against my blue and green feathers – the warmth of the sun aided in illuminating the heaven-like trance I was in. Naturally, my wings flapped against the air and for a second I lose my surroundings, I come to terms with the feeling that’s pounding against my heart, the feeling of peace, of home, of freedom. I cry out, and the familiar noise of calling my friends rings true and I find myself a midst the highest branch of a tree, chatting and pushing I was finally back home amongst my kind, amongst what humans like to call us as canaries.

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Creative Writing Narrative Essay
Artscolumbia
Artscolumbia
Congratulations. Five syllables. One word. A million sparks of energy surge through my body sending my every nerve into a hypnotic awe. It was as though you were falling in a dream and being kicked out of it. A moment of realisation this must be just a dream, and for that reason alone I refuse to let it sink into my conscience. The world will remain a tone, a sound wave having happened to penetrate through my very existence, bouncing off the walls of my ears. Those alike to me filled their fa
2018-08-02 16:33:48
Creative Writing Narrative Essay
$ 13.900 2018-12-31
artscolumbia.org
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