[30-DAY WRITING CHALLENGE] PROMPT #1: THE SELF

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Prompt #1: The Self

“Post-it notes, black sharpies and a wall full of lies”

Trudy closes the door with a small click.

The daffodil papers flutter from their places on the wall.

She slides down to the floor, hiding her face on her knees.

Black, bold sharpies line the pale, smooth slips.

She takes her first breath after eight long, torturous hours.

They are words. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them.  
Beautiful, encouraging words that people give to her.

Trudy shucks off her coat, an elegant burgundy capelet coat that hugs her form and accentuates her slim body.

She picks up the sharpie and starts to scribble.
Nimble fingers caressing fragile paper.
 “Glowing”.

Her bare feet sink into the flush carpet and she let out a contented sign. Her stilettos lie forgotten on the wooden tiles.  

Another word, another space on the wall.
Another compliment from a fellow dancer.
Another reminder of how she should be…

Her hair tie comes next, thrown carelessly over the coffee table. Tight ponytail replaced by loose hair that flops, flat and messy, down her neck.

Graceful. Alluring. Gorgeous.
Talented. Beautiful. Sensational.   
She is everything a prima ballerina can and should be.

Piece by piece, she removes the layers. The stylish clothes. The glittery make-ups. The expensive jewelries.

Her body is light. Her skin stops pricking. Her face is less taunt and her eyes no longer feels like blinking back tears.

She climbs into bed and wraps the blanket around her thin form.  

She is tired. Practice has been extra gruesome today, with the new show coming round the corner. Harsher demands from Lady Evelyn, who seems to try to push Trudy pass her limits. It is stressful, and by the end of the session, the ballerina’s whole body burns with fatigue.

She snuggles more onto the fluffy pillow.

She doesn’t mind the pain, nor does she the tiredness. She isn’t offended by the reprimands or the unsatisfied glares.

Diligent. Ambitious. Determined.
Stubborn. Proud. Competitive.
Trudy is used to striving for perfection.

She pushes, and pushes. And when Lady Evelyn says stop, she pushes a little more.

At least that way, when her heart is beating too fast and her blood roars in her ears, the voices of the audience is drown out. When her eyes are blurry with the bright light and droplets of sweat roll down her forehead, the faces judging her is almost invisible.

And when her colleagues compliment her, Trudy can pretend they aren’t all lies.

Because perfection is a goal she can never reach.
Because no matter what people say, she know she is never good enough.

She closes her eyes and lets the silence lull her to sleep.

Behind those yellow notes, are an ugly, broken wall where paint is chipping off.
Sad. And pathetic.

Trudy is called many things.
Applauded by many people.
But in the darkness of her room, there is only one word she use…

She turns off her smile….

That word, is…

WEAK.






Comments

  1. Unknown9 April 2017 at 16:14

    The dual-writing style beckons me to follow till end. A good use of implications adds spice to the story. My reading pace seemed to have matched with the thoughts of the main character.
    Also got reminded of myself too.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Huong Nguyen10 April 2017 at 04:02

      Thank you for your kind and thoughtful words. It is sad to know Trudy reminds you of yourself, i never want anyone to feel the way she feels. Send you all the love <3

      Delete

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