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Sunday, September 2, 2012

Portfolio Piece #7: Birthday

Trying a little something new.  Something I’ve wanted to do for a while.  For the next few days, I will be posting the pieces I submitted for my Writing Minor Portfolio.  They are all from classes I took Sophomore to Senior Year at Keene State College.  Most of them are memoir in nature, but a few are slightly different.  These are pieces I love, but know still need work.  If you would like to know more of the stories behind the pieces, let me know and I will be happy to share!  Also, any and all constructive feedback is always welcome – just because these were the final versions to be submitted doesn’t mean that they are perfect.

Oh, and also?  These are mine.  Do not steal them.  Thanks.

A Dream Story, Written for Cooking, Eating and Dreaming, Written Junior Year.

I had been hiding in my room all day, wondering why my head did not fit anymore.  The clock told me it was time to rest.  I prepare to go to bed, brushing my teeth at a row of sinks.  There is a song I can’t quite name in the distance.  My head rises in slow motion to look in the mirror, but the face looking back is a stranger.  I close my eyes. “One… two… three.”  When I open them again, the face is still not my own.  The eyes, nose and mouth are the same, but it is not me.  A cocktail of confusion and fear enters my body, and I turn to exit the bathroom.  Upon opening the ugly dark wooden door, I am met with another door.  This one is prettier, painted white with a window filled with darkness.  I push the door open, and am face to face with the stranger that had frightened me only moments before.
I ask her what is going on.  “Shhh” is her answer.  She points to her right, her eyes never leaving mine.  “Who are you?” I whisper, afraid to hear the answer.  She simply smiles.  I turn my head and look in the direction of her pointed hand.
Suddenly, I am standing in a field, full of sun, blue sky, and yellow daisies.  My twin stranger is standing on top of a hill, her white dress blowing in the wind.  “Who are you?!” I try to yell, but it comes out as a whisper. 
The sky has turns grey as the stones, an eerie blue tint has fallen on the earth.  I find myself on top of the hill, surrounded by graves. There are no names, but each is adorned with the same date: “June 23, 1978.”  I turn to see my unrecognizable doppelganger standing in front of me, holding a birthday cake with a blue candle, decorated with white frosting, pink trim and black roses.  Her face wears a mask of fear and desperation.  Her blue eyes fill with tears as she blows out the candle.
Slowly she fades away, placing the cake in my hands.  “Wait!” I cry out.  “Where did you come from?  Where are you going?”  A hint of a melancholy smile is formed by her pink lips as one tear slides down her face.
A room of mirrors erects itself around me.  I close my eyes, but this time when I open them, I recognize the face in the mirror.  Bringing the platter to my face, I take a bite of the cake, my face covered in butter cream and chocolate.  Her voice rings out with the song I heard in the bathroom: “Happy Birthday to You”.

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