Anyways, a few questions for you. I know the last little true short story I posted was really kinda weird and pointless and nonobjective. So I really don't care what you thought of it. But I'd like a few thoughts on this story. I have theses great ideas in my head and all but I'm not sure if they're really translating to paper well. I'm not sure if you're getting out of them what I'm trying to make you.
This story was really interesting to write. I avoided all logic and any references to time, place or any real description. The picture here was from the dream I had last night. Let me know if it actually makes sense to you. And not as makes sense as in makes logical sense. Cause it does not do that even for me, the author. No, makes sense as in gives you some bit of emotion or something.
Now I'm blithering on like some sore of 'artist'... Erghk. (And title note, the MC, Camden, is female.)
Fly, by Camden Coilyotte
I had always done the things my parents had wanted me to. My life had been perfect. But for some reason I ran away. The person who gave me the idea was my classmate, Markus. He was going to travel to an academy far away. He had a scholarship. I had a free ride.
I don’t remember the journey too much. I soon forgot all my past once I had been at the academy. My room was spacious, shared with my level-headed and quiet roommate Kara Briss. The academy was sort of a free haven for strange people like Markus and Kara and me. It just was there, and once you entered you sort of forgot about the world outside.
And life just went on. That’s how things went. We just lived our lives; all at the academy. Occasionally we would trek out to visit the nearby valleys when there was a rainstorm and we could see the double rainbows. And there one day Markus asked me to marry him. And I said yes. That’s just how it went.
The first conniption in my whole entire life happened soon after. Of course, it was over the wedding dress. In the academy’s matrix of ancient hallways and rooms there were closets filled with ample clothing from all time periods. The teachers told us it just grew there. I found the most perfect wedding dress. It was cream lace with layers of sheer fabric. But my music instructor insisted that I wear her old gown, an equally beautiful red velvet piece. For some reason I resisted. It just seemed wrong.
But the day of the wedding I did end up wearing her velvet dress. It fitted a little awkwardly: too tight in the shoulders and loos in the waist. Kara did my hair up in curls and a bun but right before I decided to take it out. It just seemed wrong.
Kara, naturally, was my maid of honor. She was holding the train of the dress. Markus was waiting with the minister. The few academy students and teachers were seated patiently. My music teacher began pumping away at the old grand piano. But for some reason I couldn’t move, couldn’t walk, couldn’t go. I could not get married. It just seemed wrong.
My teacher abruptly stopped playing. The guests all turned their heads and stared. Kara tugged at me from the train of my dress. The minister cleared his throat.
I couldn’t do it.
I looked up at Markus. He nodded, slowly. He knew.
So there I turned and left. I walked solemnly away at first then broke into a run. I ran out of the academy. I ran through the hills and valleys and their rainbows. I left and ran. Because I couldn’t do it. Something just seemed wrong. Wrong, it all was wrong. And they would all come to understand it someday. But I’d never see them again and never come back. I had to go home.