Life On Tape

Life On Tape

A Story by Storm K.
"

a short story about the life of a girl

"

The first time we see our girl, she is a baby. The image of her is shaking, occasionally flickering black, and tinged sepia. She’s crying; a woman lifts her into the air, spinning her around. Smiles break out on both of their faces, and the woman suddenly notices that we are there. She carries her baby over to us, kissing the dazed girl’s cheek. They wave, the woman holding the baby’s small and chubby hand up to us and moving it gently from side to side.

            We lose sight of them for a moment, blinded by darkness, until the girl appears in front of us again. She’s older now, by a few years, with locks of golden hair framing her young, cherubic face. She looks at us momentarily, staring blankly with her mouth slightly agape, showing two new teeth. Briskly she turns away from us to concentrate on driving through the garden’s yellow-green grass in her scarlet play car. All of the colours are bright and we know that in the sky, even though we can’t see it, the sun will be shining.

            The image fades before suddenly, in front of us, we see the girl. People surround her and a cake sits on the table in front of her with eleven candles stuck in the icing, burning brightly. The image is dark, because all the other lights are off, but we can see from the cosy yellow glow of the candles that everyone around the girl is smiling. In fact, they continue to smile as they open their mouths in unison and begin to sing.

            The image hangs still for a moment, a black spot appearing momentarily in the middle of it, and then the scene switches again without our permission. It is like we blink, and suddenly we are looking at another fragment of something we are still trying to understand.

            This time, we are travelling towards the girl. Her face appears older as we get closer to it, and her blonde hair now cascades in stretched ringlets down her back. We can tell that she is close to being a woman by the way her body shape has changed since we last saw her. She sees us and a scowl crosses her pretty face; she shouts something we cannot hear and puts up a hand, blocking our view of her. We can tell that she is annoyed by the glare in her eyes. Immediately, the image goes black.            

            But not for long: now we see stairs, and looking up to the floor above, our girl appears before us. She looks beautiful in a long silky blue dress that sways and shines. We see how she has matured as she steps slowly down the stairs towards us, catching our eye in her deep hazel gaze. The smile on her lips is embarrassed and pleased; it flits across her face like she has a secret she doesn’t want us to know. As she turns away, we can no longer see her �" darkness takes hold once more, speckles of white dotting across our vision until a river appears in front of us, bright and shining in the autumn sun.

            She is dancing on its bank by some trees with a boy we don’t know. But our girl seems happy; she laughs, letting her hair fall like liquid gold over her back. Without warning, the image switches and we know that it is different. The girl is still dancing, but now she is in an intricate white dress in a large ballroom. Her hair is up, and the man she is dancing with is not the boy we saw by the river. Around them, friends and family watch them glide along the floor. We see the woman who kissed our girl as a baby wipe a tear from her eye. A ring shines from the forth finger of the girl’s left hand as it rests on the man’s shoulder.

            The image cuts off, replaced almost immediately by another scene of our girl and quickly, we adapt. She is noticeably older, her hair hurriedly tied up as she walks along a pavement, clasping the hand of a young boy who skips beside her. They meet the man we saw our girl dancing with; he kisses her sweetly, and then picks up the boy with a grin. The image fades, dissolving into black before abruptly, our girl is back within our sight. This time she looks angry; we see her walk across our line of vision, and from a door the man follows. He is shouting. Our girl whirls around, gesturing wildly and yelling back at him, though we cannot hear the words �" we notice at a glance that they are in a living room.           

            The girl strides back towards the man, passing by a sofa that we notice is leather and old. They are still screaming at each other, but we are mute to their cries. That is how the image fades, with our girl and her man still angry at each other, and for a moment it distresses us as this time, there is a longer stretch of darkness. We wait impatiently and just when we think our time is over, an image finally appears.

            A Christmas tree. A family together. There is our girl, smiling over at the man; he takes her hand �" they both have grey hair now. They watch as the man, who used to be the boy with our girl’s golden hair, gives a present to a young girl we assume is his daughter. This means, we realise with sudden clarity, that our girl has become a grandmother.

            The image slips, and we see our girl wearing black, an umbrella sheltering her from the grey sky and gloomy drizzle. She is outside with others around her, also dressed in black. She is crying as she looks down, and we notice that her man is no longer by her side. There is no time to dwell on this thought as the image blurs and shakes into a new one; the girl is making a cake with her grandchildren. They are laughing and she is smiling �" it is only a quick scene.

            The next one seems to last for a long time; all we can see is our girl in a bed. Her face is lined with old age, her golden hair changed to a snowy white halo about her wrinkled face. She looks like she is sleeping, with her light smile we know so well playing about her lips. This moment hovers and we watch her sigh, and then she breathes no more. We are plunged into darkness; from behind us we hear a whirring sound and a steady tapping follows it. The film reel has finished, and it spins around and around in its projector.

© 2012 Storm K.


My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Reviews

There are just so many places to go with this piece, this story. Although, to me, it's not so much a story as perhaps a form of Tibetan prayer that has been inserted into an Anglicized context; the spinning prayer reel invoking a litany of supplications for the life of "our girl." They are, perhaps, playing out in the mind of one who has seen it unfold or, perhaps, has yet to see it unfold. A contract of sorts, made with the off-camera omniscient film maker or director of life. It is a beautiful telling of bellwether moments with just a touch of abstraction. A thoroughly enjoyable writing that causes a duality of translated reflection for those with similar experiences or aspirations. Again, the old Buddhist blessing comes to mind, "Grandparents die, parents die, child dies." Perhaps a startling comparison at first glance but less so when we understand, as with this wonderful piece, it is simply the natural order of things.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Storm K.

11 Years Ago

Thanks! :) I hadn't actually thought of off the film maker as the 'director of life', it's an intrig.. read more
I REALLY like the concept here. I feel that there are a few redundancies. For example you use the phrase "our girl" so often that it becomes a monotonous click before a life change.
I feel that you have great potential with this one, but it needs to be fleshed out a little better. I noticed that you seem to change the venue at the last possible moment. At first it appears to be a person's personal recollections (memories) and then at the very end, it is to be a reel. It is as interesting as it is confusing. Perhaps a bit more clarity?

As I said before, it has a lot of solid potential and an excellent concept structure. Good job!

Posted 11 Years Ago


Storm K.

11 Years Ago

Thanks! Both for the review and the feedback. I know what you mean about the phrase "our girl" being.. read more
i really enjoyed that! You took me through all the stages like watching a silent film. i especially liked the candle bit. i felt really sad at the end to see her fading and leaving so i must have become quite attached along the way. It leaves the reader filling in the unanswered with their own ideas...like when the hubby aint there no more, and when she is annoyed at being filmed. Great work Storm.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Storm K.

11 Years Ago

Thank you! :)
That was an amazing descriptive and visual piece of ink! The idea of the projector real is wonderful and the way you carry emotion throughout, really gives the idea that we are indeed walking along side this woman as time flashes by.
I really like how you've captured the life and times of a person in such technicolor strength, within just a page. Awesome ink!

Aaron =)

Posted 11 Years Ago


This was very good. The details were amazing, and the words just seemed to flow together smoothly. Very nice job. I can't wait to see what you write next. :)

Posted 11 Years Ago


Storm K.

11 Years Ago

Thanks! :)
Dark Rider

11 Years Ago

You're welcome.^^

Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

302 Views
5 Reviews
Rating
Added on December 26, 2012
Last Updated on December 26, 2012
Tags: girl, tape, life

Author

Storm K.
Storm K.

Wales, United Kingdom



About
"the irony is that I can't express my love for writing in words." I'm Storm. Eighteen years old, going to college in a castle by the sea. I am an escapist, a lover, a fighter, a reader, but most of.. more..

Writing
15 Minutes 15 Minutes

A Poem by Storm K.


Chapter One Chapter One

A Chapter by Storm K.


Chapter Two Chapter Two

A Chapter by Storm K.



Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


Fox Fox

A Story by rabbit