Friday 16 October 2009

This Story

This girl can pick more than thirty things wrong with her. This boy can’t find a single fault. This girl thinks very little about herself. This boy thinks she’s perfect. This girl wishes she was someone else everyday. This boy wishes he was with her. This girl believes no one will ever love her for herself. This boy can only imagine loving her.

Scarlet looked into the mirror desperately trying to push her stomach out and hide the ribs and concaved shape of her purposely starved figure. She looked deeply into her sombre eyes that shone against the dull tone and dehydrated skin that were her face. Her crinkled, chapped lips stood expressionless in the middle of her slim and underfed face. The skin on her arms hugged close to her bones which created the frail image of which she is.

With a confused expression she stepped away from the mirror and worked her way towards her plain and personality lacking room in which a single bed and a cupboard of clothes sat. On the right of her bed was a small table with a lamp and a bottle of water on it and two shelves that contained books that looked as though they had never been touched. Scarlet lifted her school bag off her bed and walked out the front door without giving breakfast a thought.

As she walked through the school gates and joined a crowd of pretty, confident girls, Scarlet ignored her hunger and happily kicked away the pathetic worries of the world with her eager conversation and sparkling personality.

As lunch came about the crowd of tall, beautiful girls migrated to the lunch room where they were joined by a crowd of tall, gorgeous guys that were built on muscle. Scarlet walked right past the food counters and straight to the table where she sat on one of the guys lap, Luke. Luke wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close to him.

“I can feel your bones Scar.” He whispered into her ear and her expression dropped. He lifted a chip from his plate and fed it to the reluctant girl who felt ashamed and humiliated. Luke could feel the tension of the mood change and fell quiet as he dropped the subject and left the food alone.

When school finally ended Luke walked out of the building and across the jungle of people to a bench he knew Scarlet would wander past. When Scarlet finally passed him he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to sit on the wooden bench beside him.

“Why?” he asked her delicately.

“Why what?” she irritably spat out at him.

“I don’t understand… you’re perfect… Do you want to die? Don’t you care about yourself?”

“I’m not perfect. No one’s perfect.”

“You never answered the question Scar. Don’t you care about yourself?” he questioned.

“No one’s perfect.” she repeated. She stood up and walked out of school without a glace back at the blond, grief-stricken boy.

Scarlet crossed the road slowly, wishing a car would hit her. Scarlet walked down each and every side street, yearning for someone to attack her. Scarlet ran across the park, hoping to drop from food deprivation.

Scarlet returned home disappointed. Scarlet passed the kitchen with depression painted on her face. Scarlet walked up to her room thinking there was nothing left for her. Scarlet reached behind her bed thinking there was no escape. Scarlet took out a plastic bag of white dusty pills knowing what she wanted. Scarlet took the water from the table by her bed and peacefully cleared her mind. Scarlet whispered, Scarlet slept, Scarlet left the world.

This girl could pick more than thirty things wrong with her. This boy couldn’t find a single fault. This girl thought very little about herself. This boy thought she was perfect. This girl wished she was someone else everyday. This boy wished he was with her. This girl believed no one would ever love her for herself. This boy could only imagine loving her. This girl passed away, unhappy, unloved, unappreciated. This boy still wishes he’d had the chance to tell her.


-Eggy Mayers, wanna be writer.

Sunday 27 September 2009

Random Thoughts

If I close one eye and leave one open, I see a universe. If I close the eye I had open and now open the one I closed first, would it be the same universe in a different view? Or a new universe altogether?

There's a thought, what if we were only made yesterday and God had put very explicit memories in our mind, but it was all a lie?
Stephen William Hawking wrote a book called 'A Brief History of Time.'
It is said that out of the 100% of people who buy it, 90% put it down after the first 10 pages and only 10% finish the book. It's said to be too intellectually challenging and boring for some minds to cope with.
But he actually touched up on a topic I'm really interested in: time travel.
Hawking said that time isn't linear as we believe it is. That time doesn't travel in a straight line from past to present and then to the future, but that time is parallel. Therefore every second of every day is in parallel lines right next to each other and to travel across time you'd have to jump from line to line. Not traveling straight down a line as it is thought.
How can we prove this? Well, at the moment we can't. At least I can't.
I don't really know whether I believe him or not. Whether we can really jump from time to time at all. But time travel is possible.
If you go into a space ship and orbit the earth then for you, by the time you're 70 year old and have been orbiting the earth, you would have lost a year on earth. And if you had spent your time on earth, you would have been 71.
So is that our key to time travel?

-Eggy Mayers, wanna be writer.

 
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