I had to right a story, with leterary elements in it...this was last year, but thought I'd share it anyway. There once was a woman named Pam, who lived in a state of constant fearing—specifically, fear of dirt, germs, and sickness.. She lived in a really nice house—but with the sloppiest family ever. They’re pigs, she thinks to herself, on a daily basis. But what she finds more apalling is the outside world—at least she knows her family is gross, but the other people…do they have some disease? Did that guy wash his hands? Is this really a Pixie Stick…or is it Anthrax, wrapped in pretty paper? “Mother dear, did you wash your hands before you cooked this breakfast? I hope so…and you better have wore a hairnet. How long has this butter been sitting on the table? And this milk?” Pam hesitantly picks at her breakfast, in a neurotic manner. Pam’s mom, Amy, is a portly woman, with black hair, and thick glasses, she has a thick New York accent, and coincidently, has never had a cheese burger. Pam won’t let her, because she has a fear of Ecoli. Amy looks at her, wondering why her daughter has turned out so gemophobic. “Good morning to you, too, Pam. And no, I didn’t wash my hands,” she says, laughing. “Have you had a CAT scan in a while? You might be getting a brain tumor that is pressing against the part of your brain that makes you worry more…because you’ve been havinng so many spells lately, Pam, and I think it’s mostly in your head. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Of course, not that I mention it, you’re probably worried about having a brain tumor.” Pam stops, and looks at her mother. My family, they are all insensitive and piggish beings. Is she serious? Did she really not wash her hands? Pam wonders, pushing the food away. “I see bacteria on this food…I feel sick now.” Pam runs away from the table, and goes into her special room…a room, which is all contained in its self. The bed is always made, the floor always clean. Pam’s therapist suggested she create such a room, then hire someone to create a difference in the air pressure, so air only leaves the room…but outside air that is not purified doesn’t come in. So how does Pam breath? Good question…some people think all her fears about germs come from just a lack of oxygen in her room. To this, Pam replies, in a thick New York accent, “But, you see, it’s not the lack of oxygen that is eroding my brain…it’s the germs in the oxygen that get in my room. I need better filters. Or it’s the rest of the world…it’s all their fault. Maybe it’s nothing to do with my room.” Pam has a high quality filter, that first pulls air into a box, where it’s run threw a grid that is positively charged, and then the negatively charged ions of pollution stick to the grid. Then it’s pulled into the room threw a fan, and filtered once again by that process before Pam breaths it in. “The only reason the whole house isn’t like this,” Pam starts to say, but pauses in a moment of thought, “is because the rest of my family wants to kill me with germs.” “Pammy, dear, you must stop worrying so much, or you’re going to have a stroke…or an aneurysm…or one of those other medical problems that are you constantly worrying about.” Pam comes out of her reminiscent mindset, and looks at her therapist Kevin. Kevin is taking notes, and he suddenly notices Pam is staring at him. “Well, Pam, that’s very sad your family does not listen to you…that flash back…it’s very powerful. Some person is going to use that in a story, which is required to have literary elements. They are going to use the dialogue of your mom talking to you…and they are going to use this whole flash back, and some English teacher is going to be very happy. Well now, I think our time is up. Here’s a free bottle of hand sanitizer.” Pam stares off into space. “Kevin, I think I’m sick…” suddenly she falls onto the floor, gripped by a seizure. So…you tell me…was it really all in Pam’s head? Did the worry finally push her over the edge? Or did the germs really kill her?
haha, that was interesting... I don't like the last 2 paragraphs, though, because theys seem cliche. your descriptions are great, especially of the mother and pam's room. you do keep switching from past tense to present tense, which is distracting. on the whole a good piece except for the end.
LOL, wow you're right they are cliche...I didn't notice that until I just read it again. Thanks for the feedback!
