Skip to main content

Day 1 → Take your least favorite character you’ve ever created. Put them in a scene that would drive them mad


From behind the heavy velvet curtain Sarah could hear the murmur of the gathering crowd grow louder and louder. She could feel her chest tighten, and the knot in the pit of her stomach grow heavier with each forced breath. She closed her eyes and started her relaxation exercises. She was glad Dr. Hafen had gone through relaxation exercises with her at their last session. She definitely needed them now.

She focused on the knot in her stomach and visualised it evolving into a sphere. A foam sphere. She smiled to herself. It was actually working, she was actually starting to calm down. A clammy hand on her bare shoulder made her jump. The intrusion into her private world was as unwelcome as the dampness on her skin. 

"Well Sarah, my girl. Are you ready for your moment in the spotlight?"

Sarah nodded. She hated being the centre of attention. She hated when crowds. She hated people if you were going to get to the finer points of her dissatisfaction. And here she was. Standing in front of five hundred people, preparing to welcome them to the nights events. 

'Just take your time. Ignore the audience. I know you can do it. You know you can do it'

Sarah gave a slow smile and turned her attention back to the curtain. She didn't need any distractions now. It was too close to showtime.

The quartet who were providing the music began to play the intro piece.
The moment was here.
Her moment was here.

She gingerly clasped the curtain in her hand and stepped through it onto the stage. 
The brightness of the lights startled her and disrupted her vision. She took a deep breath.
Blinking through her momentary blindness she located the microphone standing at the centre of the stage.
She strode towards it and faced the crowd.
They waited expectantly for her to begin.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to welcome you all to...'

A loud crunch caught her attention. It came from her left. She glanced sideways quickly. It stopped. She took another deep breath and regained her composure.

'I would like to welcome you all to the seventh annual gala...'

She heard it again. Another crunch. It came from her left like the first. She looked towards the noise. She couldn't see who was making it. She started to panic. A  reassuring whisper came from behind the curtain.

'You can do this Sarah. Concentrate'.

She refocused on the microphone. She smiled as much as she could muster and continued.

'to the seventh annual gala of the Summerville Mental  Health Retreat Cent..'

'Crunch'

Sarah spun towards the sound. She saw him this time. She saw the cruncher. 
He was eating. He was making the noise. He was crunching.

Her scream stunned the room.
'You bastard!'
She leapt towards him, microphone raised high above her head.
'I'll teach you a lesson you sunovabitch. I'll teach you bloody manners.'

A siren alarmed behind Sarah. She caught sight of one the white uniforms coming towards her.
 She didn't have long to show him. She didn't have long to punish the cruncher.
She swung her already raised arm. All she needed was one good swing.
A firm fist caught her wrist.

'Drop it Sarah'

She turned towards the voice as the sedative was thrust into her arm.
The microphone fell to the floor.

'But he ruined it Dr. Hafen.  He ruined my show'

'Don't worry Sarah, we'll try again next year'

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ah November. You have returned.

I woke up this morning with a dullness in my heart that I normally don't have in the morning.
On my mornings allocated to sleep in I resemble a sloth blissfully unaware of life in a cocoon, but on a normal morning I wake up with a bit of a bounce. I start my day with a bit of shower time karaoke. I dance around the bedroom as I get dressed for the day. I have a great time. ( Jeez, as I write this I suddenly appreciate Stuart's morning patience a little bit more! Ha!)  Anyway, the point being, despite a very early bed time last night I woke up a wee bit deflated.

Then I remembered  that my old nemesis November has returned.
I did a quick calculation. Marguerite would be 32 next week.
32! Being 32 was one of my favourite times.
Another quick calculation, Marguerite will be gone 15 years this month. 15 years. 2 more years and she will be gone as long as she was with us.
Every November is a little bit easier than the last. Of course it is. Time is a wonderful healer.
But every cal…

2020

I have started this blog post four times now.
I think that is a new record for my procrastination.
I didn't do a New Year blog, and my previous versions of this were a look back on 2019.
I'll be very honest, I don't want to look back on 2019.
I want to put it in a box, and seal it away forever.

There were some fabulous moments. Of course there were! I got engaged to the most wonderful man I have ever known. I witnessed the weddings of some of my best friends. Babies were born. There was an abundance of soft play, cuddles and karaoke.

For me, 2019 will mostly remind me of being ill. It was a huge part of the year. The worry consumed me for the majority of the latter half. I now know more about hypertension, blood pressure, kidney function and kidney failure than I ever thought necessary.

It sucks being ill. It sucks knowing that you have an illness that will never go away. It doesn't feel fair. If I am very honest with myself I went into a little bit of a pity pit for a w…

Missing Marguerite. 14 years later.

On this day, 14 years ago, the world lost a little bit of its magic, when at 11pm, my little sister took her final breath and life changed as we all knew it. She was only 17 years old. 17 years and 19 days to be exact. As I sat here today reading all the lovely messages written about her, my heart soared with pride in the fact that in her short time with us, she managed to have such a big impact on so many people. Marguerite Mary O'Dwyer, an ambassador for mischief, mockery and for having a marvellous time. I miss her so much.

It is funny how every year there is something different that I focus on for the anniversary. I never choose my train of thought, I think the year since the last anniversary chooses it for me. Last night, I got fairly plastered on wine and when my other half went to his bed, I sat and sang along to every sad song I could think of. I had a wee chat with Mags before I went to bed and woke up this morning well rested and ready to seize the day. 
I got quite sad a…