walkwithheroes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
walkwithheroes) wrote2009-03-02 04:31 pm
walkwithheroes) wrote2009-03-02 04:31 pm
Entry tags:
[wonderlife] Wall of Words
Author: Nichole
Challenge: Licorice - 20. the cheese stands alone
Extra: none
Word Count:
Story: Wonderlife
Summary: She has a Wall of Words that remains her of how she should feel.
Author's Note: This is my first piece with Taka. Taka was interesting and even a little sad to write. If Ling'er needs looking after, Taka needs a doctor. It's possible she has some form of autism, but Chan-wook isn't exactly the time that takes people to the doctor.
She rented a room just two streets away from the university that she attended. It was rather small (but, she liked small places) with just a place to sleep, kitchenette, and a bathroom without a bath. She kept the place bare of personal objects: no photos, no books, no. . . . anything; just a futon to sleep on and a table to eat and study at. However, there was one thing that gave away who she was: the entire right wall of the room was covered in paper.
Each piece of paper had writing on it, things like: ‘Ahjuhssi’ and ‘Forger’ and ‘Love’ and ‘Family’ and even ‘Hanged’. The words were written in bright blue marker, something which made them stand out against the white of the paper and walls. Each piece of paper was connected to others by pieces of red string; almost like a chart. In the corner, just to the left of the wall – a noose hung down from the ceiling.
Every morning, just after dressing, she would stand in front of her wall and stare at all her words. Slowly, her eyes would drift to the noose and she would find herself feeling an odd mix of anger and sadness. Sometimes, she would quietly take the noose down and put it in the trash bin – but, she always put it back up later.
There were times when her gaze would drift down to her long sleeves - even in terrible heat, she wore long sleeves. Whenever that happened, she found herself searching out a single word on her wall: ‘Burn’.
Carefully, without even thinking, she’d pull up her right sleeve and look closely at her arm – covered in burns that spread up and up, going over the right shoulder and down the back, spreading to part of the upper chest – a whole side of a body covered in burns.
You’re disgusting.
At least it didn’t get your neck.
He did that to you . . . on purpose?
Would you like a new name? The others want to call you Taka . . . it’s really only half a name, though. Is it still alright?
She –Masaki Taka - never spoke, never smiled, and never acknowledged others. But . . . every day, like clockwork, she’d stare at her Wall of Words, then at her noose, and finally at her scars. And then, for no reason at all, she’d feel a single tear fall down her cheek.
Challenge: Licorice - 20. the cheese stands alone
Extra: none
Word Count:
Story: Wonderlife
Summary: She has a Wall of Words that remains her of how she should feel.
Author's Note: This is my first piece with Taka. Taka was interesting and even a little sad to write. If Ling'er needs looking after, Taka needs a doctor. It's possible she has some form of autism, but Chan-wook isn't exactly the time that takes people to the doctor.
She rented a room just two streets away from the university that she attended. It was rather small (but, she liked small places) with just a place to sleep, kitchenette, and a bathroom without a bath. She kept the place bare of personal objects: no photos, no books, no. . . . anything; just a futon to sleep on and a table to eat and study at. However, there was one thing that gave away who she was: the entire right wall of the room was covered in paper.
Each piece of paper had writing on it, things like: ‘Ahjuhssi’ and ‘Forger’ and ‘Love’ and ‘Family’ and even ‘Hanged’. The words were written in bright blue marker, something which made them stand out against the white of the paper and walls. Each piece of paper was connected to others by pieces of red string; almost like a chart. In the corner, just to the left of the wall – a noose hung down from the ceiling.
Every morning, just after dressing, she would stand in front of her wall and stare at all her words. Slowly, her eyes would drift to the noose and she would find herself feeling an odd mix of anger and sadness. Sometimes, she would quietly take the noose down and put it in the trash bin – but, she always put it back up later.
There were times when her gaze would drift down to her long sleeves - even in terrible heat, she wore long sleeves. Whenever that happened, she found herself searching out a single word on her wall: ‘Burn’.
Carefully, without even thinking, she’d pull up her right sleeve and look closely at her arm – covered in burns that spread up and up, going over the right shoulder and down the back, spreading to part of the upper chest – a whole side of a body covered in burns.
You’re disgusting.
At least it didn’t get your neck.
He did that to you . . . on purpose?
Would you like a new name? The others want to call you Taka . . . it’s really only half a name, though. Is it still alright?
She –Masaki Taka - never spoke, never smiled, and never acknowledged others. But . . . every day, like clockwork, she’d stare at her Wall of Words, then at her noose, and finally at her scars. And then, for no reason at all, she’d feel a single tear fall down her cheek.