[Theatrical Muse] Response
Aug. 18th, 2007 12:01 am Write about a recurring dream you’ve had.
Dear Diary,
I don’t really want to discuss this. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t discuss it at all. But the dream hasn’t gone away and Aunt Lavinia said it might help if I wrote it down. So that’s what I’m going to do. I do like writing anyhow. And I do very much hope this will help. It makes me want to cry even now to think about the dream. I despise it.
Well, I should start at the beginning. It’s a pretty day and everything seems rather lovely. School just finished and I’m playing tag with Julie and Billy while we wait for our mums to pick us up. But she doesn’t come, and Mrs Jones brings me home. There’s no one there and then I’m not even there. I’m in a car with Mum and Daddy and we’re driving home from Daddy’s newest business deal.
I’m happy.
And then I’m not. Because then there’s another car coming in the opposite direction and it’s driving in the wrong lane. And Daddy swerves the car to try to avoid hitting it and there are trees and there are screams and then it’s all black.
It’s all black and they’re dead and I wake up crying. That’s it. It’s short and dreadful and I don’t think writing this helped. I’ve written all these other things and I’ve really liked that. But this just hurts. I want it to go away.
Why won’t it go away?
-Sarah Jane, Age 13
February 19, 1969
Dear Diary,
I don’t really want to discuss this. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t discuss it at all. But the dream hasn’t gone away and Aunt Lavinia said it might help if I wrote it down. So that’s what I’m going to do. I do like writing anyhow. And I do very much hope this will help. It makes me want to cry even now to think about the dream. I despise it.
Well, I should start at the beginning. It’s a pretty day and everything seems rather lovely. School just finished and I’m playing tag with Julie and Billy while we wait for our mums to pick us up. But she doesn’t come, and Mrs Jones brings me home. There’s no one there and then I’m not even there. I’m in a car with Mum and Daddy and we’re driving home from Daddy’s newest business deal.
I’m happy.
And then I’m not. Because then there’s another car coming in the opposite direction and it’s driving in the wrong lane. And Daddy swerves the car to try to avoid hitting it and there are trees and there are screams and then it’s all black.
It’s all black and they’re dead and I wake up crying. That’s it. It’s short and dreadful and I don’t think writing this helped. I’ve written all these other things and I’ve really liked that. But this just hurts. I want it to go away.
Why won’t it go away?
-Sarah Jane, Age 13