Coming on After The Break

by PetalEmily

Rating: everyone
Tags: Romance, Tragedy, Slice of Life
Length: 1508

Okay sorry a little freaked out by my idea here....

She lived a vacant life in the suburbs, hardly noticing the world change around her. And her life is as dull as the gray crayon in a box full of lively colors, but luckily enough every gray crayon must find their black crayon.

This story is hard to place under romance, or slice of life because it's overall value is quite a tragedy and sad. Yet I put it under romance and slice of life instead to justify the title.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-09 23:40:01 UTC

Life

The stories you hear on tv are just fictions of our imagination that come alive out of dreams.Don't trust your dreams because sometimes believe it or not you don't have a fairytale ending, so if all else fails we'll be back after the break

There I sat, magnified into the television screen, I hardly noticed as a fly landed on my face. I barely moved. Politics changed nothing as I saw how our economy went downhill in elections, all I had to do was flick the channel and I wouldn't have to think about it. After all I was 18, but I didn't vote so why should I even care?  Why would I feel the need to have my voice heard, when I didn't have a voice. It was true, I was only 5 when it had happened. I was an energetic child, and my parents thought I would be that way forever. But then, something happened when I yelled something to my mom, it's like I gagged on my voice and it seemed not to go away, it was like I was choking on something nonexistent. I felt like I would die as my parents rushed me to the hospital. I couldn't speak, though I tried I couldn't talk. I was mute, I had what the doctor had called laryngitis. I was always quite talkative, and without my voice I could focus enough to do anything. My voice would be unheard forever.

The word forever still haunts me. I was forever alone. Forever silent. Forever was so shallow, it meant there was no escaping it. Forever was a cage that I was going to be trapped in forever. I tried to say forever, for some effect or that if I could suddenly talk again and that would be dramatic. Only my breath was heard as I mouthed the word forever. The world was changing, but I didn't dare go look at it I might turn blind at looking at the pure world still young and alive. So I just sat there, waiting for anything to save me from myself, who kept being negative about everything.

I felt like the gray crayon in a box full of colorful crayons, I didn't know the only thing that could safe me, was a kids television show.

I flicked the tv channel with a push of the remote from weather to anything else, and threw down the remote. A highly colored cartoon show came on, their theme song screeched out "MY LITTLE PONY" I couldn't reach the remote so I forced myself to live with it. I began to enjoy the small ponies air and rhythm as they began to seep into my happy place. I smiled, for the first time in years.

And then I saw Applejack. Others see Applejack as tough and wild, but I saw her as sad like she had something to hide like me and my laryngitis. I never thought I would have so much in common with a pony, yet her face haunted me. That's why I was sure that's when I saw her by the end of my bed for a split second, I was going crazy. Yet, I was comforted that I couldn't go out and yell "I'm crazy" to the world.

After all for that you had to speak, which I am incapable of doing.

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

I have a simple philosophy: Fill what's empty. Empty what's full. Scratch where it itches.

Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you're alive, it isn't

THIS CHAPTER OF THIS STORY IS MADE BY PETAL EMILY, YOU MAY NOT RECOPY THIS STORY IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM UNLESS GIVEN PERMISSION

Choice

“We lie best when we lie to ourselves.”

I saw her laying there on her bed at 3:00 in the morning. She just lay, her long black her strangled around her sweaty palms as she tossed and turned. She mouthed several words looking like forever in several different forms, like forever, ever, for. I stood at the end of her bed and gazed at her. I knew she would freak out if she saw me here, she would of thought herself crazy. Not that she could have told any doctor what was wrong. I stood there, my straw like hair began to stand on it's end. I had never been to a place as quite as this. The only noise came from a large grandfather clock that flew back and forth, back and forth in a slowing rhythm. I began to shut my eyes to the slow lullaby rocked me to my sleep. I felt like a boat as I swayed to and forth, to and forth. I looked down at my feet, and with a last awake glance I saw my orange skin as I felt myself blackout on the floor.

When I awoke I saw her there asleep until I looked at her. She got up and waved with her hoof at me, her hair stood up from the static on the floor. I stared at her and silently screamed. Silently. Another haunting word. I would yell silently. I pushed myself against the wall and mouthed "Applejack" She nodded and dissapeared.

Was I going completely bonkers?

I rubbed my eyes and squeaked out a breath filled yawn. I blinked twice to make sure Applejack wouldn't magically reappear before my very eyes. I stayed still for a moment, sure I heard small hoof steps creaking down my hallway but it soon passed as a fiction of my imagination, right? I looked toward the clock which slowly beeped out 3:05. I lay back on my pillow and stared at the soft green ceiling thinking of my fantasy of Applejack. I didn't hardly understand any bloody thing about life now, but I knew I was bloody bonkers.

Then I remembered the T.V. show, Applejack was honest, dependable, no matter what she would help you. She was trying to get me out and about. But for a mute person, me, to be out mingling was like saying that Fort Knox was open and anybody could take gold from it. Just stupid. I huddled together and began to cry. The salty tears drenched my pale skin and finally after hours of debating I decided to go outside when it was morning.

Finally at 11:30, lunchtime, I went out with a pen and small memo pad in my back pocket. I headed toward McDonalds, and opened the glass door. I took a deep breath and wrote what I wanted on a piece of paper and underneath is put Sorry, I am mute. I handed it to a lady behind the counter, she nodded her head with her long orange hair bobbing up and down and went off to give my order to the cooks. I leaned against a wall and stared at the table for my food. Finally I turned around and saw her again. This time she smiled at me and bowed her orange head. Her hat fell off showing all of her straw hair. By doing this I saw her problem. I silently mouthed the word Stroke? She nodded.Then she vanished, leaving me alone.

I took my food and sat at an empty booth in the back. I closed my eyes and ate my first food other than T.V. dinners in 15 years. I smiled, it was so tasty that my taste buds opened up and grabbed it. I smiled, when a boy about my age (17) walked up to me and waved. My heart and stomach dropped about a million miles give or take a few.

Love

I did what I thought I had too. I pulled out a memo note and wrote on it. Hi. He smiled and wrote back to me Are you mute too? My heart surged with full power. too? I almost cried. Yes. How are you? I wrote back to him. Good, you?

I thought again of Applejack, my crazy nightmares that twisted me, my comparison to a gray crayon, my illusions. Good. I wrote back. Because I was in the sun, eating food, and sort of talking to someone. Want to go to the Redburry Amusment Park? he wrote/asked. Sure. I wrote it with full confidence, I had nothing to hide anymore. I wasn't crazy.

I stood up, he wrapped him arm around my shoulder and we walked to the door. I looked back and saw Applejack smiling at me. She mouthed "Goodbye Amy" and vanished, for the last time. I turned my head back and smiled again.

I was real.

THE END.

Authors Note:

I know it stinks, I know it's way to fast, I know that stuff. But this idea loved me. I don't care what you say about this story, because I like it. OH WELL, see ya. ((I need no constructive criticizim...I now I spelled that wrong.))