Babel
(Clyrnin)
I went to go bash out another chapter for I don't want you to go when I realised- I have NO idea how to write creatively anymore. After three months of doing nothing, it's pretty hard to get back into the groove. But now that I've got my GCSE results and my place for college, it's time to get going. This is just where I'm going to dump any one-shots that I write over the next few weeks.
I taste the words forming at the base of my throat before I realise I want to say them. Imagine them as babies, all vowels and syllables and too long limbs. The sound would fold and contract until it reached my mouth, rolling over my teeth and leaving a taste on my tongue as it was released into the big, bad world, where it would be lost, except for the two people stood in the laboratory- and one of those was me.
Just three words.
Eight syllables.
It would be so easy, if they weren't so grave.
Their weight is hard to bear, and the words die in my throat. They scream, clawing at me from the inside. Only one sound escapes, desperate and strong-willed and heard by Claire before I can stop it.
"I-"
"What was that, Myrnin?"
Claire looks up from her book, eyebrow rising after that one, insignificant letter. (Honestly, how ridiculous, having single-lettered words. They aren't worth the air it takes to produce them.)
"Nothing. Doesn't matter."
She shakes her head, exasperated, a lock of dyed hair falling in front of her eyes as she does. The urge to talk pulls at me once more, but words are heavy and I don't want to burden her anymore than I have already by simply remaining in her presence.
So I talk, but I don't say anything.
Ay yo, and for anyone interested, I got an A* in English Literature GCSE and will be studying it at college, so hopefully my shitty writing will start to improve!
Chloe x