Showing posts with label picture writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label picture writing. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Identity: Chapter 3 by Julia Young

Identity: Chapter 3-- Final
One head to the next, I was part of a machine. Stripped of my individuality, my ingenuity; my body was being used as a tool. Their feet mimicked the conveyer belt, while my hands mindlessly manipulated each object that came my way. The assembly line was further down, where another tool dressed them in uniform attire. Thirty minutes passed and I had already gone through six bodies. My mind was tied. I did this all without my own control. This wasn't me... I was inside this body, fighting for a way out. But instead, the walls that bounded me kept going. Body after body after body: buzzed, waxed, bald. At this point I was screaming, hanging on the hopes that I might wake up from this terrible nightmare. All was in vain, however. No matter how loud or long I cried out for, no one was going to save me. Helpless, I stopped. I stopped screaming. I stopped struggling. I stopped thinking. And I was dead again...
The hands below continued to do their job. Fastidiously creating sublime products; eight bodies this time-- a new record. A mindlessly mechanical routine, done with upmost prowess; The Man would be proud. Yes, The Man. You do know who I'm talking about, right? He is the mastermind behind all of this. Whipping us useless human beings into the largest living machinery in the world.  Every girl in Nebraska at the age of seventeen was to be abducted by a group of men in black, escorted to the warehouse. The Man called it his "Biomachinery Project", saying it would be his claim to fame-- Nebraska's claim to fame.  This was a private operation, and word about it never breached our state borders.
Of course upon our withdrawal from our normal lives this project sounded appalling. Although their names have been wiped from my memory, I am almost positive I had a family: a mom, dad, and two brothers. I suspect that they were good to me, for the girls chosen for the operation had to be in optimal conditions. What I do know for sure though is that like every other inhabitant of Nebraska, I knew what this "Biomachinery Project" was... even before I was actually abducted. Although it was preferred to keep it on the down-low, everybody talked about it. There were many rumors: rumors about the girls being starved, raped, drugged. Yet despite the horrible hear say we were told to go on with our lives as if it didn't exist. So, to cope with our inevitable fate, young girls often focused on the more positive rumors. For example, many said to have heard of girls snapping out of their programmed mindsets; regaining consciousness within their lifeless body, able to escape the system. However no one had ever seen a girl walk out alive, and as to my own experience here, I have never experienced one of these episodes of reality.



The end.

Friday, December 2, 2016

Identity: Chapter 2 by Julia Young

Identity: Chapter 2
My body was merely a shell. A shell with my brain in it... or rather just my eyes, as I was yielded no control. I was conscious in sight, but not in mind. My brain said scream, but the muscles in my face just didn't listen. It was as if all my muscles were deaf to my helpless cries, and rather listened to another force that knew sign language. I continued to stare at the reflection in the mirror, as that was all I could do. I stared at my self, refusing to call me 'me' and resorting to using 'it' instead. All it's moves mechanical and monotonous, my body had been transformed into a robot. My head was shaved, my body, stripped down to a white cloth; my skin even had a silver tint to it, my lips, pale purple. All that I could use to identify that this being was me was it's eyes-- my eyes. Their deep warm hazelnut color contrasted with the coldness of their surroundings: a sign of life in an otherwise dead tundra. Yet they were expressionless. You could not see my fear, my anguish, nor my despair. As I helplessly stared into the mirror, my eyes only stared back... empty.

This is a continuation of my last blog post, "Identity: Chapter 1". Although inspired by the same picture as before, I thought that the picture above-- another one from the same collection-- went along with what was happening in this chapter. It not only created a visual for what was going on in the character's head, but also inspired some of my writing.
I hope to continue to write at least one more chapter to this story as I really like how it is developing. Writing these pieces provides me with a chance to relax and enjoy writing in a way that we usually don't write in class.