A short story that I wrote... :)

Balancing on a Broken Brick Wall

Sitting among the daisies and weeds, overgrown due to the lack of attention, a young girl’s mind wonders. Her hand flickers here and there as if dancing with the daisies. The breeze is blowing gently this way and that, changing directions constantly.

A butterfly flits about tempting Angelica to follow it up into the sky to enjoy the freedom of flight. Angelica wants to; the whole world could tell that she wanted to. She even pretends to get ready for the possibility of flying. She starts limbering up her arms and puffing out her long, flowing dress like wings. She gives herself a running-start and jumps. In that instant the air pulls her upwards, the birds and insects chirp and cheer her on and the world seems to pause. When she pretends, she likes to think absurd things, like the possibility that time has made one second last for five seconds just so she could experience what it was like to feel the exhilaration of being weightless.

(A lot of seconds before this)

A few metres away, a little boy appears with his very new camera. He holds it in his hands poised and ready to capture a moment in a still image so that it lasts forever. He sees Angelica and clicks away; once, twice, three times.

As Angelica’s feet find the ground her happiness falters for a millisecond. She knew it had to end sometime. She spun, still imagining that she could lift off the earth like a helicopter. The world understood her; her parents didn’t. After falling to the ground dizzily, she glances up and sees a shaky figure of a boy. She makes out like she’s about to pounce on him, but then runs away in the direction of her house, still stumbling from the effects of her spin.

The boy tries to follow but realises she is much too fast. She runs like the gingerbread man; with joy at knowing no-one can catch her. He runs like a sloth; not at all. He watches her in awe as her run turns into a dance with leaps and twirls. Clicking his camera once he carefully makes his way through the field back to the wall where he can see everything.

Sitting at the dining table, Angelica reigns in her desire for freedom to fit into her household environment. She looks behind her and notices footprints of mud leading to her seat. Quickly she jumps to another seat without leaving a trace and plonks the household pet dog, Chuckles, onto her recently vacated seat. She then hides her feet beneath her chair in an effort to make her framing more credible.

She hears soft footfalls nearing her position and hurriedly wipes her hands on her grass-stained dress and pulls her fingers through the knotty mess that is her hair. She finds a twig buried within and disentangles it which she speedily throws out of the room just in time. Her mum walks in holding the mail and immediately finds herself staring at the mud. Her look is stern as she gazes upon the scene. She doesn’t see the funny side of this. Angelica remains seated at the table as if she has done nothing wrong still trying to frame Chuckles. “Angelica! What have you done!?” She glances at her mum but quickly regrets it. “Nothing mama.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me! Clean yourself up NOW!”

Angelica sullenly drops off her chair and mopes along to the bathroom. Before she leaves the room her mother runs off to get her a towel. As she approaches the bathroom door her mother hands over a dark coloured towel and watches her until the door closes with a dull thud. Her mother pauses in front of the door before leaving to clean up the mess.

In the neat room that was hers, Angelica spread out on the bed holding her toy bird against her clean chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches a glimmer of movement. She turns her head and notices the boy balancing on an old broken brick wall. She is fascinated by his ability to almost topple over and stares without realising she’s staring. The only thing breaking her stare was the need to blink. Her eyes widen as she catches sight of the shiny camera hanging around his neck, and she remembers her earlier image of him. He was vicariously trying to maintain his balance on one foot when three precise knocks startle her out of her trance, reminding her of the time. She sighs, looks in her mirror to neaten her hair and smooth out the creases in her clean dress. Walking properly, she makes her way to dine with her parents.

The next day the grey morning enters her room almost waking her. Not quite awake though, she falls asleep again only to reawaken to angry knocking. Each knock reminded her of what she was supposed to have done in the time it took for her to oversleep. She slowly got dressed and dreaded the day ahead, her only salvation being her spare time. Smoothing both her hair and dress she walked out of her room, still not prepared for the routine of her day.

As Angelica’s spare time approached, her body gradually became less and less contained. No more piano, learning maths, reading or study. Time for her to be in the world where she could be free. These are the moments she loves. Her feet, half skipping half running, transport her to her favourite spot far, far away from her house. Then she remembers the boy and lets her feet carry her to the broken brick wall. The wind rips back and forth more forcefully at the broken brick wall and she understands why the boy was almost falling over. The wall crumbles as her hands strenuously pull her heavy dress and herself on top of it. She stands ready for the more challenging surroundings and feels a different exhilaration; of almost toppling over and then not. The wind pulls against her hair and pushes against her dress; it being less supportive in this atmosphere. The wall continues to crumble underfoot as her feet adjust to maintain her balance. Even the weeds didn’t survive in this area.

She continues to balance precariously as she notices a figure in the distance growing bigger. The still shadow of its owner covers the weeds as the sun shines down. Her eyes follow the boy as he attempts a run but ends up almost tripping. His camera bounces against his body as he jumps with excitement upon noticing the girl on the wall.

“What are you doing?”

“Balancing on your wall. It is much more difficult to do than watch.”

He shrugs his shoulders in dismissal. His hands, ready on the camera, takes a picture.

“Why do you keep taking pictures of me?”

“You’re so in the moment, I have to.”

“In the moment?”

“Yeah.”

She thinks about this for a little bit then dismisses it in the same manner he dismisses his balancing efforts the other day. She jumps down off the wall (not like Humpty Dumpty) and runs, dances, flies to him. He clicks his camera.

She stops just in front of him and draws in big deep breaths. She closes her eyes and falls backwards into the soft field absorbing the energy of the world. He stares in confusion, then takes a few more photos.

“My mum said I should ask whether or not you mind me taking photos of you.”

“Why?”

“She says it’s polite.”

“Oh... well as long as I get to see them I am quite happy.”

“Thanks.”

He stares at her wonderingly. He wonders at her odd nature and how she manages to find greatness in such little things. He wonders why she is lying at his feet with her eyes closed and wonders what he should do. All he knows to do is take photos; so he does. Click.

“How does it steal my moment?”

“I don’t know.”

He shakes his head. He really doesn’t know he just loves to capture real life. His camera shows him how many photos he has left on the roll, and there aren’t too many. A bee buzzes around him and continues to work through its nectar collecting. His parents love his photos. His left hand rests on his camera as the other covers his eyes; the passing clouds’ reflection of the sun stings his eyes.

Angelica opens her eyes feeling the horrible sensation of creepy crawlies wiggling and walking all over her. Ants and grasshoppers that are confident enough, mind their own business on her body. She finds this feeling uncomfortable and slides her hand near the bugs to coerce them off her.

She thinks that this person her own age is more comforting than her parents, from whom she thought she was supposed to feel love. Her eyes wouldn’t stray from the stranger’s and she found herself understanding more about her family life through his eyes.

“What is it that parents want from you?” she said.

“Who knows? They’re a mystery to me.”

“They’re always disappointed in me.”

“They love you when you are you, I discovered.”

She closes her eyes once again and ponders this thought. Maybe trying to please her parents is not the way to go. Experimenting will only help this investigation. She opens her eyes again and looks seriously at the boy, nodding her inward agreement.

“I will try this discovery out and report back to you.”