Before you read this, read Jad's Chapter 3 blogpost first:
throughmyseriouseyes.weebly.com
Enjoy!
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Intertwined hands broke her fall. They were soft and merged together in a shape of a pentagon. She smiled as they tilted her to the side. She planted her naked feet in the soggy soil and took in the smell of fresh flowers. She started walking across the muddy path dividing the field of daisies from the field of black dahlias. As she reached the end of it, she took a swift left and raised the hem of her white dress off the floor as she started to run.
She ran with her arms widespread and her hair flying back. The wind slapped her face with great intensity and she welcomed it like a hug from a loved one. She ran and skipped and leaped and twirled. She was overcome with euphoria; blinded by elation.
In the distance, she saw a train come to a halt. She rushed towards it and climbed aboard. She headed towards the window seat and relaxed her head on the seat, her view fixed out of the window. She exhaled deeply in relief as the sights passed by her. She was alone on the moving vehicle, with only the driver at the very front.
Solitude in a land filled with all the views she wanted to see. For years she had drawn out the plans for this place. Every reflection, corner, curve had been perfectly planned and orchestrated over the course of many tiresome years.
As the train moved along the track, she smelled a peculiar, sharp smell. It was a distinct metallic smell, but she ignored it as the smell of the flowers overshadowed it. However, as the vehicle continued its path it kept coming back to her attention. She walked to the railroad engineer's cabin, knocked twice, then opened the door. While she was opening it, several bodies fell out of the cabin, many more falling behind her. She backed away in shock as the bodies continued to fall at her feet. They were presumably endless in supply.
Scared, she searched to find a way to exit the train, but the entrance she had come in through was blocked by the pile of humans drenched in blood. She then thought of hiding under the chairs, until the bodies stopped flowing out of the engineer's cabin, but she heard a whimper from the direction of the bodies. The one closest to her looked up at her and whispered:
"Tristan, 2015."
Confused, she scratched her head at the mention of the boy's name.
Was he coming to the Land of Huge Eye? Did he know about this land in anyway? Was he already here?
After what seemed like forever, she had managed to push through the sea of bodies to get to the door and jumped off the train with fright. After a while, she had become accustomed to the bodies, but what scared her was their constant supply, the blood they were drenched in, and the mention of Tristan's name.
She walked, with remorse, on the flower fields, since the track was now fully occupied by the train. She strolled along thinking what could have caused such an occurrence. As she thought about it, she saw a blood stain on her dress. She grunted with frustration as she realized more and more of the stains on the white fabric.
Joan turned and started running back to the place she first arrived to. She remembered drawing a stream there, so she could then...A possible answer suddenly came to her along with feelings of vulnerability and blame towards herself. Could she have been so foolish?
She ran faster to her initial spot, where her sketchbook lay on the muddy land. She started sprinting at the instant she saw its faint shape in the ground. She picked it up quickly and flicked through the pages. At first, Joan searched the pages vigorously, but as she viewed more of it, her fingers moved slower, eventually coming to a halt.
She collapsed to the floor; stunned.
This was her chance at being free, but she missed out on that because she left her sketchbook with Tristan. Hours, days, years spent sketching out this magnificent land in invisible ink...wasted because she had instead grabbed her Art sketchbook, instead of her planning one.
As she began to rock herself back and forth, she pieced it all together. Tristan must have found her backpack containing the sketchbook and presumed it was empty. He must have drawn out the gorey, violent scene on the pages already filled with the invisible sketches Joan had drawn before. It was reasonable, especially knowing that his artwork was very dark, very detailed and very bloody.
Joan enjoyed sketching out scary scenes, but this was her world. She wanted to live in a world of tranquility, where she could be one with nature, where everything was black and white and went according to her plans. She meant for no interference from the Universe, but instead, she got the interference of a dark Tristan.
She lay on the floor for several hours after that. The stains had become permanent, now matched with mud splots.
She was dumb, foolish, ignorant and beyond the limits of negligence. She had one thing to do, and she couldn't do it. She had one sketchbook to carry with her, and she couldn't do that. She could have brought both of them, but no; she couldn't do that either.
Apparently, she was incapable of doing anything at the time, but now she had to think of something she could do to bring Tristan's attention to his actions. She had to find a way to communicate with him, and show him his impact on the Land of Huge Eye, and there was one person she knew could help her.
**********
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! This is so long overdue, it's disgusting. I really hope you liked it, the thought finally came to me after many weeks of writer's block, void of inspiration or motivation. However, it seems that today I have found both in such capacity as to write this belated chapter. A lot of new things and updates have happened in my life, and I plan on sharing them with you all very soon in an upcoming blog post. I will not set a specific date, since I don't really stick with those, but I will try my best to have one up by sometime next week.
Have a great day!
-Yara :)
Intertwined hands broke her fall. They were soft and merged together in a shape of a pentagon. She smiled as they tilted her to the side. She planted her naked feet in the soggy soil and took in the smell of fresh flowers. She started walking across the muddy path dividing the field of daisies from the field of black dahlias. As she reached the end of it, she took a swift left and raised the hem of her white dress off the floor as she started to run.
She ran with her arms widespread and her hair flying back. The wind slapped her face with great intensity and she welcomed it like a hug from a loved one. She ran and skipped and leaped and twirled. She was overcome with euphoria; blinded by elation.
In the distance, she saw a train come to a halt. She rushed towards it and climbed aboard. She headed towards the window seat and relaxed her head on the seat, her view fixed out of the window. She exhaled deeply in relief as the sights passed by her. She was alone on the moving vehicle, with only the driver at the very front.
Solitude in a land filled with all the views she wanted to see. For years she had drawn out the plans for this place. Every reflection, corner, curve had been perfectly planned and orchestrated over the course of many tiresome years.
As the train moved along the track, she smelled a peculiar, sharp smell. It was a distinct metallic smell, but she ignored it as the smell of the flowers overshadowed it. However, as the vehicle continued its path it kept coming back to her attention. She walked to the railroad engineer's cabin, knocked twice, then opened the door. While she was opening it, several bodies fell out of the cabin, many more falling behind her. She backed away in shock as the bodies continued to fall at her feet. They were presumably endless in supply.
Scared, she searched to find a way to exit the train, but the entrance she had come in through was blocked by the pile of humans drenched in blood. She then thought of hiding under the chairs, until the bodies stopped flowing out of the engineer's cabin, but she heard a whimper from the direction of the bodies. The one closest to her looked up at her and whispered:
"Tristan, 2015."
Confused, she scratched her head at the mention of the boy's name.
Was he coming to the Land of Huge Eye? Did he know about this land in anyway? Was he already here?
After what seemed like forever, she had managed to push through the sea of bodies to get to the door and jumped off the train with fright. After a while, she had become accustomed to the bodies, but what scared her was their constant supply, the blood they were drenched in, and the mention of Tristan's name.
She walked, with remorse, on the flower fields, since the track was now fully occupied by the train. She strolled along thinking what could have caused such an occurrence. As she thought about it, she saw a blood stain on her dress. She grunted with frustration as she realized more and more of the stains on the white fabric.
Joan turned and started running back to the place she first arrived to. She remembered drawing a stream there, so she could then...A possible answer suddenly came to her along with feelings of vulnerability and blame towards herself. Could she have been so foolish?
She ran faster to her initial spot, where her sketchbook lay on the muddy land. She started sprinting at the instant she saw its faint shape in the ground. She picked it up quickly and flicked through the pages. At first, Joan searched the pages vigorously, but as she viewed more of it, her fingers moved slower, eventually coming to a halt.
She collapsed to the floor; stunned.
This was her chance at being free, but she missed out on that because she left her sketchbook with Tristan. Hours, days, years spent sketching out this magnificent land in invisible ink...wasted because she had instead grabbed her Art sketchbook, instead of her planning one.
As she began to rock herself back and forth, she pieced it all together. Tristan must have found her backpack containing the sketchbook and presumed it was empty. He must have drawn out the gorey, violent scene on the pages already filled with the invisible sketches Joan had drawn before. It was reasonable, especially knowing that his artwork was very dark, very detailed and very bloody.
Joan enjoyed sketching out scary scenes, but this was her world. She wanted to live in a world of tranquility, where she could be one with nature, where everything was black and white and went according to her plans. She meant for no interference from the Universe, but instead, she got the interference of a dark Tristan.
She lay on the floor for several hours after that. The stains had become permanent, now matched with mud splots.
She was dumb, foolish, ignorant and beyond the limits of negligence. She had one thing to do, and she couldn't do it. She had one sketchbook to carry with her, and she couldn't do that. She could have brought both of them, but no; she couldn't do that either.
Apparently, she was incapable of doing anything at the time, but now she had to think of something she could do to bring Tristan's attention to his actions. She had to find a way to communicate with him, and show him his impact on the Land of Huge Eye, and there was one person she knew could help her.
**********
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! This is so long overdue, it's disgusting. I really hope you liked it, the thought finally came to me after many weeks of writer's block, void of inspiration or motivation. However, it seems that today I have found both in such capacity as to write this belated chapter. A lot of new things and updates have happened in my life, and I plan on sharing them with you all very soon in an upcoming blog post. I will not set a specific date, since I don't really stick with those, but I will try my best to have one up by sometime next week.
Have a great day!
-Yara :)
