A trifling fantasy [working title]

This is a work in progress. It as not been edited or checked for grammar gremlins/spelling errors/etc.

                          

She always found it complexing, couldn't help but be wrapped up in her own little world. There was some sort of comfort in not having to be concerned with anyone else. It was wrong to discredit their emotions but somehow she just had to do it. It had to be done so she could survive the jungle. Sometimes life seemed overgrown like that jungle, the weeds were going to attack but she knew that she wouldn't face reality even if those exact weeds were wrapping themselves around her thin, opaque ankles.

No one seemed to be able to replace the obsession she had with her imagination. She nurtured her daydreams, she queried the inaccuracies of her thoughts only by layering more elaborate stories on top. Now she speculated if this in itself was going to be the end of her. Would her daydreams become her life? Would this be all she would remember when she was old and gray? She never went to Paris or Prague but does it matter if she fantasied about what it would be like? She never married a rock star? Never had a child, never knew what it felt to receive flowers from an admiring man but she thought about it, she pondered it everyday and it had replaced any of the reality that she had originally had.

She rolled over in bed. Her hair a birds nest, he eyes wide but blurred. She hadn't got out of bed for 4 days and her back was beginning to ache. She held her back and stretched trying to right the wrong so many lazy days had caused but the cramp wouldn't budge. It seemed to be a warning to get out of bed and out of her own head for just a short time, the shortest time. When her feet hit the floor it was with shock and awe. She rose to her feet, they actually supported her and she walked to the bathroom.

When she turned on the taps the pipes groaned awfully. The hot water sprayed out and she began to disrobe. When she jumped into the showered she was shocked by the force of the water. She desperately needed a shower but she had neglected it. It felt wasteful to shower, to care for herself. She didn't want to be like that but it took an excruciating amount of effort to be anything else. The default of her personality, the core of who she was always won out and she felt that she was a waste. It was hard to care. Hard to wash ones hair with loving care, hard to scrub ones body with any regard. She had entered into a new phase. It was much worse.

Her body was conflicted. She never watched what she ate, ate only what she wanted so it was often junk but quite often she would go days at a time between meals. This didn't bother her. The cramps sometimes hurt but she just felt that she defeating her repulsive human nature.

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems please. this is a work in progress.

Reviews

[Imen Yacoubi]

Lovely piece Danielle... Though not much is revealed about the woman's case, you've achieved a succefful characterisation of your character... There's an easy stream of emotions' ; the metaphor of water is good (I hope I am right in speaking about water as metaphor), it conveys well the conflict of body and thoughts... Good work!