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Inktober Prompt #1 - Crystal


A few years ago, I started the tradition of using the Inktober prompt list as writing prompts. I'd take the word of the day and write a short fiction work using that word somewhere in the piece. It became a way for me to stay writing consistently and a break from various WIP.


This year I thought it would be fun to share my excerpts with you, and yes, I know we're already five days into October, but better late than never, right?

 

Prompt: Crystal

(This is loosely based on a true story experience in my own life. May it be a reminder that you are never alone in your pain and trauma.)


My fingertips touch the glass window. A multitude of water droplets decorate its crystal clear complexion. The world outside this car is just a smear of color on a painter's palette, much like my shattered mind. I can't remember things as I used to, and that scares me.

I do remember how loud it all was. The accident, I mean. The initial impact, the metal crunching, and my screams. I'm not sure which was louder, my screams or the impact.

I shake myself. Reliving the event will do nothing but cloud my heavy head even more.

I turn back to the window and watch the lone raindrops race down the window, seeing who can be the first to make it to the safety at the bottom. They have no control over how fast or slow they slide. They are just free falling alone—like me.

My eyes close as pain swells in my neck. Head trauma, post-concussive syndrome, headaches, inflammation. These words swirl around in my brain, somehow making me feel vulnerable and frustrated.

But mostly, I feel broken.

Sometimes I wonder if my family understands that. Do they realize what it feels like to have your head tossed back and forth like a ping pong? Do they know what it feels like to live every waking moment in a state of Deja Vu? Do they know how horrible it feels to give a blank stare when they ask if I had done something they asked of me earlier?

Maybe they see the same old me. Perhaps nothing has changed for them.

But I know I'm not the same. I live my life as if I'm the audience watching a story unfolding before her eyes—appointment after appointment, treatment after treatment, days blurring into one another.

Will it never end?

I set my gaze on one raindrop and watch as it falls. Halfway down the window, a larger drop joins it, and together, they race faster. Stronger.

Huh.

You're not alone. I am with you.

The words are a whisper that breaks through my sad thoughts.

All the same, I'm still broken. I whisper back.

You are not broken. This is just part of your beautiful story. Your story with Me. You'll see, because of Me, you will be made strong.

Warmth invades my heart, and I crack a small smile. Strength arises in my soul as I track another raindrop. This one joins more and more until it is one massive drop right before hitting the window seal.

Maybe I'll make it through this after all.

I'll brave this mountain. I'll ride these waves. I'll sail this storm.

Because maybe, I'm not just freefalling.

I'm soaring.

 

What did you think? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

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I'm a storyteller, child of the King, and book enthusiast. I write to bring light, beauty, and truth to this dark world. I'm also a graphic designer with an eye for color and a musician with a love for movie soundtracks. 

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Shining light on the wonder of stories

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