Saturday, May 19, 2012

Journal Entry 6:

April 12

             "Please don't go," I whispered. I was looking down at a daisy, its petals a blinding white beneath the scorching heat, blending in with the white heat of the day. It hadn't wilted.
                My life was spinning. I did not want the daisy to die. I felt as though it was all that was left in this world that I could hold onto. No one mattered. There was nobody else who cared.
                I reached down and I picked the up daisy. Now, for certain it would die. I couldn't help it, though. I cradled the daisy close to me, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. A large, brown rabbit hopped across the yard. After loping in an arc it reached me at the end of its route. Positioned right in front of me. Its eyes were large and brown like its body. It sat looking at me for a moment, so long that it seemed nearly wistful.
                "Hi, rabbit," I whispered. I reached out a hand to pet it. That's when I realized the creature was only an illusion. Rabbits do not behave in this way. My illusion hopped away from me swiftly, although, I was right, it had been real for a moment.
                It wasn't easy. Nothing was easy, I realized. The rabbit symbolized that miracles, well, things that are at least strange, can occur, although they probably won't last. However, when you do receive the hint of a miracle, even if its just a slight part of one, you should not discard it. You should not throw what you have received away. The rabbit, when he came to stand before me and paid me so much attention, was in a way, a sign.
                I looked at the daisy hidden in my breast. Swiftly, I threw it away from me. It landed pitifully, sideways on the ground. I allowed a small cry to escape me. I pulled at my hair in frustration. As irritation coursed through my veins, I left my spot on the stoop. Wrenching the front door open, I entered the house.
                I saw nothing but death inside the house. Irreversible, useless waste. I began chucking everything into the trash. The blinds, the pictures on the wall, the plates, and knives . . . they all had to go.
                "Gone! Gone!"
                I wasn't in the mood to save anything. It all had to go. Suddenly there was a knock on my front door. I wrenched it open once again.
                "What?" I screamed at the intruder. Austin looked at me with his eyebrows raised.
                "Truly there is no reason for that."
                "I- I'm sorry," I sputtered. Truly, I want to kill you. "What are you doing here?" Austin stuck his hand out. I looked down at it.
                "What's that?" A shiny piece of silver glinted from out of his palm at me.
                "Your locket."
                "What?" Austin studied me for a moment. After a stretch of quiet, for I controlled the fires of my emotions in a curious instant, searching I suppose my tangled mind for a connection, Austin said,
                "I perhaps should have called you first. This obviously doesn't have any significance for you."
                "I'm sorry," I gasped. "I can't seem to make it out." I racked my brains treacherously. The boat of my mind was shifting through the tangled waters. My brains were composed of mud. My boat shifted through shallow mud-lands and pushed aside dead things in the way, but still I couldn't connect to the locket. Silently I turned away from him, without taking the locket. The thing had no significance for me, and I didn't want him here. "Go now. I don't want the locket." He looked down at the object in his hands, his brow creased very slightly. After a moment I exclaimed, vexed,
                "Oh, honestly!"
                I snatched the locket out of his hands and chucked it into the yard.
                "Now leave!" I screamed at him. His eyes were boring into me in a way that I couldn't stand. A faint mix of sadness and concern that he had hidden from me up till now. Shaking, I shut the door in his face. Slowly I meandered back to the couch.

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