This is a narrative that I had to write for my English class. The story is supposed to be a first person account of a scene that evokes a singular emotion in the reader. This event is fictional, but open for interpretation. The answer to what it depicts is up to the readers to determine for themselves as there's no one answer. Anyways, tell me what you think:
As I descend down the dirty, green carpeted stairs, a dim yellow light cast from a lone light bulb overhead manifests a moving shadow that accompanies my otherwise solitary journey. I halt when I reach a tall, vacant, white door; funny how I just now perceive the door to be an infinite void of emptiness even though I have known it for years. Reaching for the doorknob, an unfamiliar coldness greets my bare hand and an icy shiver runs down my spine that seemingly extinguishes what warmth I had left. The ominous door trudges open with a long, drawn out breath—presumably unwilling to continue its meager existence.
Entering the overly illuminated room, I am welcomed by an otherworldly tide of despair. Mountains of luscious food occupy all of the available tables and counters, yet the hungry faces surrounding the succulent aromas appear fit to feast on the atmosphere’s dense sorrow. The strong, tough, rugged men that I once idealized as a boy were now reduced to shells of their former selves—faces buried in hands while uncontrollably weeping.
At my sight, oddly friendly, tear-soaked faces, apparently fooling themselves more than me, force halfhearted smiles. Deliberately, I swiftly sidestep these unwanted, possible interactions and continue to weave through the unending array of human statues. Careful not to make eye contact with one of these emotional vacuums, I solemnly make my way to the corner of the room and seat myself in a large, dark wooden chair. The stiffness of the chair creates an uneasy feeling in my neck and I turn to blankly peer out the grayed window. Outside, defeated raindrops fall through the sky and silently cease to be without anyone to mourn their untimely demise.
On the far end of the room, indiscriminate outlines of adult figures huddle around a television as if the television was a singular island of sense and reason in this turbulent, surrounding sea of confusion. Abandoning my previously introverted attitude, I curiously saunter over to the television hoping to also find some precious stability among such chaos. A peculiar stillness befalls the group when the monotone droning of a female newscaster commandingly directs everyone’s attention to a dreamlike scene. Flashes of disbelief consume the earlier indifferent expressions. Uncomprehendingly watching the clip for the fifth time, these people still resist its undeniable truth and seek to prolong their, now lifeless, ignorant bliss. Although nobody else seems ready to accept the truth, I know. Realizing that what was happening today was genuine, I understand that nothing will ever be the same again.
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