My Brilliant Career- creative for school

I could hear the loud clanging of tin and bronze echo through the halls. I could smell the sticky sweet scent of vanilla as it burned through the room, making my stomach churn. The white that spread itself across the walls made me feel nauseous; everything that was designed for my comfort made me feel uneasy. Was this really meant to be the happiest day of my life? All of a sudden, outside the window I caught a glimpse of beauty. A bird hovered, right outside the window. Soon all was quiet, and the gentle fluttering of a bird’s wings flew me back home, where I had given my heart to another. I could now feel the familiar warmth of the sun’s rays surround me, as they beamed through the window, making my heart melt to a resting beat. I closed my eyes and looked up to the sun; the light pierced through, taking me to a dream state of red, an ethereal red that made me feel safe and alive. I was dreaming of Sybylla; all of the simplistic details that drew me to her. I was dreaming of the way her hair fell upon her shoulders, how it curled and bunched together; I was dreaming of the familiar sound of her boisterous laugh and the comfort it brought me. I was totally enraptured in this one moment, nothing could draw me back into reality, except reality itself.

Just as the bells ceased their clatter, a loud knock came from the door. It gave me a shock that sent my legs trembling. I walked over slowly towards the door, with a terrible sickness in my guts. As I turned the brass knob towards me, a big brute of a man barged his way passed. “Ah my boy! Today is the day!” he proudly exclaimed.

“Yes, I suppose it is” I agreed, realising that it was my close business partner Mr. Gannett. His wife had accompanied him into the room, she was dressed richly, showered in the finest silk, with jewels dangling down to her bosom. Her demeanour was repugnant, the way she stood there acting as if the carpet buried beneath her heels was woven especially for her. She glared around the room, delighted as she took the arm of her husband. As I saw the pair of them standing so near, it became clear to me that the age difference was significant. Her cheeks still so perky and smooth; his now beginning to wrinkle and grow rough with grey whiskers. The life had faded from my good friend, I could see it in his expression, and the way his face lines acted against their own will to form a smile. Was this what was to become of me? The thought pounded in my head, bringing everything that he said to a murmur. As my head filled with tumultuous clatter I watched as they left the room, nodding and smiling, doing all I could to restrain my true feelings.

The door slammed behind them, purging my mind of all the white noise. As I went to sit back down, a shadow flickered across the room, drawing me to the window. I turned to see what it was, and there she sat on the windowsill, chirping and flickering. Her beauty captured me, so I slowly made my way over to the window, watching each step I made, as to not disturb the bird. I unlatched the lock and began to delicately press the window upwards, but as soon as the bird sensed movement, she flew off into the distance. I watched her the whole way; how her feathers rustled in the spring air; how her wings would stretch and pull each time she made an effort to fight against the wind. I watched, not once diverting my eyes, until no more, she had faded out of my sight forever. I let the window slam, and I stood back dazed and weak. A cold drop ran down my cheek, a prelude to heavy sobbing and blabbering that could not be contained. Salty, wet tears drenched my shirt sleeve and turned my eyes heavy and red. For a moment I just stood there, choking on my own tears, then I turned back to the window in anger, this time throwing it up out of rage. I now knew what I had to do, I had to find her.

Before I began to climb out of the window, the door was thrown open. Her shadow gloomed down upon me; her eyes fixing themselves in my direction. She spoke “silly boy! Come back inside this instance!” I took to her demand. How could I run from my aunt? Hot and red with embarrassment, I took my seat. She entered the room and calmly closed the door behind her. She walked over as to confront me. I lowered my eyes, as I could not stand to divulge the truth behind my behaviour. I watched her feet as she approached, how weak and feeble they were; how yet they still moved with abrupt swiftness. I felt her cold hands placed upon my cheek, as she lifted my eyes to meet hers. “You wouldn’t disappoint me, would you?” she interrogate me, for quite a while after this; she droned on about the consolidation of five bob downs and the importance of the marriage. I couldn’t bare to listen to her for much longer.

I could hear the constant ticking of the clock. I could feel its irritating presence nibbling at my flesh. I looked over towards the clock. It made me feel as the rest of the room did, languid. “So you look to the clock for answers?” Her cold voice pierced my ears. “I am a sickly, old woman. You can’t expect me to wait for you, or for her.” Her words drew me to attention because I knew that she spoke the truth. My mind was now trapped between two: the thing that I most wanted in the world and the thing that my aunt most wanted. I felt that I was being used as a rope in a game, being pulled one way and then being pulled the other. She stepped forward, slowly finding the ground with each step. Slowly she bent down and her lips came to my ear. Her lips whispered words of guilt and shame; words that acted as a flowing stream of string pulling me towards the altar. I followed her words because I was afraid and at that moment her words were the only thing I could make sense of, everything else was just an erratic blur.

In a matter of moments I had found myself staring down the aisle, which seemed to exceed my eyes’ comprehension of distance. The aisle was formed by many creatures; young and old; tall and short; silent and loud; men and women. These creatures knew not a thing about me, yet somehow they had earned themselves a place at what was supposed to be the most intimate moment of my life. The music that I had attempted to eschew moments ago had finally begun to play and with it came my unwanted future. I watched on as the lady in white approached, but suddenly my eyes had faulted, I did not see my intended but I saw her, my heart’s intended. My eyes faulted, yet I could not have seen more clearly in that moment, she was beautiful. As the picture of Sybylla stirred in my mind, an idea was implanted in the foreground of my consciousness. Why should I need to marry if I am in love? Sybylla is not mine to have, she is herself and that is why I love her. I suddenly began to run down the aisle, which now seemed to be shorter than I had first imagined; all the creatures in the crowd watched on as all the pent up emotion flooded my face and lit up my path. I ran from marriage; I ran from them, all of them. I loved Sybylla and whatever those creatures believed constituted love would not stop me from loving her. So I ran, knowing that my only destination was Sybylla; not marriage; not a life of togetherness; never living happily ever after; simply being with Sybylla for one more moment.