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Figment
In the comfort of her bedroom, Claire found herself standing face to face with a girl. With her long, untidy, ash brown locks of hair and light, tan skin glimmering a brilliant, warm hue of gold from the sunlight pouring in from the window behind them, the stranger stood in a way a puppet would when its master had not yet pulled its strings. But despite the stranger’s seemingly pleasant façade, Claire could not help but observe how the stranger’s robust, athletic physique lay in stark contrast with her dark, sullen grey eyes. Looking at the stranger’s eyes more intently, Claire could have sworn that she could see a vast chasm of what seemed to be a truly deep melancholy and distress beneath her eyes’ elegant exterior.
Even if she wanted to demand the stranger to leave her room, Claire was in such shock by the revolting act of intrusion committed by the stranger that she had forgotten how to speak with force. The crime also simultaneously repulsed Claire into desperately, yet silently, demanding answers to her questions. What is she doing here? What does she want? But upon opening her mouth, Claire realized she had rather lost the ability to speak, albeit temporarily. There was just something about the stranger’s presence that caused here a sense of distress but in an almost tangible conviction. If Claire was thinking clearly, and she’s sure that she was, it seemed as if the stranger actually carried an air of entitlement to be standing in her room. Claire was overtaken by a special sense of wonder and curiosity. Who was she?
As Claire observed her surroundings, she noticed that the mysterious girl was standing directly beside an old cupboard. Smack in the middle of the large cupboard, turning slightly yellowish with age, was a glaring little piece of paper with the words, “This is reality” scribbled on it. The ominous piece of parchment instantly grabbed Claire’s attention. What could be the meaning of this note? Something didn’t feel right, Claire thought.
Of course, a more pressing matter remained at hand. The stranger still stood, as silently and as mysteriously as ever, in her room, staring back at her with blank eyes. Claire could still not make any sense of this unwelcomed presence, nor could she find any proof or other oddity that told her this was all a dream. Her surroundings, her atmosphere, the air and the low hum and vibration of the world around her beat down on her senses constantly, reminding that this was indeed reality. This girl was an intruder inside Claire’s own house, and yet she had the audacity to look at Claire directly into her eyes, as if she had committed absolutely nothing wrong. To make matters all the more conflicting in Claire’s mind, whenever she moved, or even made a slight gesture, the girl would match these gestures in exactly the same way. The mocking mimicry heightened Claire’s curiosity so intensely, and rather, replaced it with a more aggressive infuriation. Claire had to do something, anything, to find answers. The stranger still stood motionless, with no obvious intention of thieving or other criminal act. This gave Claire time to think-- think about what she could do without having to worry about an all out assault.
After several moments of heavy, silent contemplation, Claire made up her mind. She grabbed the portentous note from the cupboard in the attempt to ask the stranger if she had placed it, and eventually asked why she was there in the first place. From the corner of Claire’s eye, she could see that the girl again imitated this movement. Claire’s breathing quickened and her pulse raced as the anger inside her brought by this irritating mockery from someone who is no less than an intruder now swelled like a balloon about to pop. But to Claire’s shock, the girl had her own exact replica of the note in her hands as well in the same fashion of some sort of sick, dark magic trick. It was an impossible feat since there was only one note stuck on the cupboard.
Even if she wanted to demand the stranger to leave her room, Claire was in such shock by the revolting act of intrusion committed by the stranger that she had forgotten how to speak with force. The crime also simultaneously repulsed Claire into desperately, yet silently, demanding answers to her questions. What is she doing here? What does she want? But upon opening her mouth, Claire realized she had rather lost the ability to speak, albeit temporarily. There was just something about the stranger’s presence that caused here a sense of distress but in an almost tangible conviction. If Claire was thinking clearly, and she’s sure that she was, it seemed as if the stranger actually carried an air of entitlement to be standing in her room. Claire was overtaken by a special sense of wonder and curiosity. Who was she?
As Claire observed her surroundings, she noticed that the mysterious girl was standing directly beside an old cupboard. Smack in the middle of the large cupboard, turning slightly yellowish with age, was a glaring little piece of paper with the words, “This is reality” scribbled on it. The ominous piece of parchment instantly grabbed Claire’s attention. What could be the meaning of this note? Something didn’t feel right, Claire thought.
Of course, a more pressing matter remained at hand. The stranger still stood, as silently and as mysteriously as ever, in her room, staring back at her with blank eyes. Claire could still not make any sense of this unwelcomed presence, nor could she find any proof or other oddity that told her this was all a dream. Her surroundings, her atmosphere, the air and the low hum and vibration of the world around her beat down on her senses constantly, reminding that this was indeed reality. This girl was an intruder inside Claire’s own house, and yet she had the audacity to look at Claire directly into her eyes, as if she had committed absolutely nothing wrong. To make matters all the more conflicting in Claire’s mind, whenever she moved, or even made a slight gesture, the girl would match these gestures in exactly the same way. The mocking mimicry heightened Claire’s curiosity so intensely, and rather, replaced it with a more aggressive infuriation. Claire had to do something, anything, to find answers. The stranger still stood motionless, with no obvious intention of thieving or other criminal act. This gave Claire time to think-- think about what she could do without having to worry about an all out assault.
After several moments of heavy, silent contemplation, Claire made up her mind. She grabbed the portentous note from the cupboard in the attempt to ask the stranger if she had placed it, and eventually asked why she was there in the first place. From the corner of Claire’s eye, she could see that the girl again imitated this movement. Claire’s breathing quickened and her pulse raced as the anger inside her brought by this irritating mockery from someone who is no less than an intruder now swelled like a balloon about to pop. But to Claire’s shock, the girl had her own exact replica of the note in her hands as well in the same fashion of some sort of sick, dark magic trick. It was an impossible feat since there was only one note stuck on the cupboard.
23 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 8, 2015
12 people want to read
About the author
Michael Morgan
141 books4 followersLibrarian note:
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There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name
This profile may contain books from multiple authors of this name
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
March 31, 2017
Choppy
I wish I could have read others reviews before purchasing this book. The story is very choppy. One minute the main character is standing outside a house the next they jump off a roof. I had to go back and reread the paragraph I just read to make sure I didn't miss something. I found myself doing that a lot.
I wish I could have read others reviews before purchasing this book. The story is very choppy. One minute the main character is standing outside a house the next they jump off a roof. I had to go back and reread the paragraph I just read to make sure I didn't miss something. I found myself doing that a lot.
Displaying 1 of 1 review