I sit at my kitchen table, with my journal and a pen the urge to write has been building. It really has turned from just an urge to almost a need to survive, like drawing a breath. I can’t confide in any one in my current life, so I write. Once the journal is full of the things I can not tell, I burn it in a small fire pit that is in my backyard.

I love the way the spine on the journal creaks as I open it. The sound of turning pages brings a small fleeting smile to my lips. The pen is cool as I pick it up from the table; it’s heavy in my hand but feels like it belongs. I take a deep breath and begin to write:

I was at the store the other day picking out some apples for a pie, I have not made one in sometime it sounded like a good idea. I heard a pleasant voice ask “what do you want?” I didn’t see who asked the question or to whom it was directed, but it was one of those moments that you can not shake, as if the voice has asked “Lea, what do you want?”. It invaded my every thought. I looked around but didn’t see the source of the voice, it gives me the chills, still. Was it them again? What did they want this time? Why won’t they just let me live out my years, they banished me.

“What do you want?” is all I could think of on the walk home from the store. That is a really good question. Before the question was asked I wanted apple pie. What if the question was deeper than just wanting pie? What do I want? My past to be just that past, that would be nice but some how it keeps popping up in my current. While I don’t think we are ever truly free of our past, it would be nice if the wounds that where suffered there would be allowed to heal, even if it leaves scares at least they are not as painful I would hope.

I want to be able to tell the story, I don’t even dare write it down. What if they found out that it was documented? Ours, well I guess it is theirs now, is of legend and lore, there is no written history of any of us nor there shall ever be. That with the fact that I am the only one to ever be banished, others where executed. Maybe that makes me lucky. But it also makes my current life a place that I will never fit. I guess that makes me want to belong, but I can not belong to my past or my current. Mistakes where made consequences where rendered for those mistakes.

I hear people say “if they could go back…”, this makes me smile because at one point I could do that, there are moments that I find myself longing for that ability, to right a wrong in the past, but my wrong can not be righted and there is no going back for me any longer.

While I am sitting here wanting, I guess I could toss love in to the pool too. I had it once and honestly I think that is what leads this mess that I am finding myself in now.

I scan the page, close the journal. The need has quieted for the moment, live can continue for now.

TUESDAY, MAY 31, 2011

Red Writing Hood
This week’s prompt is all about character development.

We’d like you to write about what your character wants most.

Which reminds me of the scene in Good Will Hunting when Robin Williams’ character asks Matt Damon’s character, Will, what he wants. And Will can’t answer. Because he doesn’t really know.

Do you know what you want most? Does your character? Write a piece of 600 words or less and come back to link up here Friday.

This prompt was inspired by a prompt from Writing Forward.