Reconstruction of Memory- Winfield
Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick.
System failure! System failure! Someone, please help! I’m begging you! I’m not ready for my life to be over. Please help!
Black clouds, time lost.
Keep flying the plane! Get the power plant back up, make sure the rudder is straight, do something! It can’t be over, it barely started.
Void fills, sound barrier breached.
Screams lost in tears. One heartbeat fills the plane. Lost, damaged, frightened. How are we going to secure it?
Downward spiral, fiery inferno.
Engine failure. Reconnect, rewire, redirect. Please do something. Help me, please! I’m scared. Don’t let it be over! Can you get it back running? Please, say you can. Please! I’m begging you.
Beaten, weak, suffering.
First officer is down. The rudder is tilted far left we’re all going down
Light streams, numbness engulfs.
Save the passengers! Save them, please I’m begging you! The world freezes no sound to be heard. We’re going down. I’m afraid it’s ending, and my worlds falling apart.
The landing gear has failed, please help!
System failure! System failure!
The powers out for only a few seconds, light begins to flicker through the room as if it’s lost its the strength to turn on. Somethings wrong, a wisp of tears leans against my face. I know this isn’t a dream, it’s a nightmare. The flickering light becomes a tunnel. The slow ticking immerses, a face appears. Dr. Davis looks at me lost and says “I’m sorry sir, your wife body wasn’t strong enough, her system failed. She’s dead and so is your child. I’m sorry. I did everything I could to help.”
I've lost my life, I’ve lost my wife. My child is gone. I’m alone. I sit on the side of bed replaying the daily nightmare. The world doesn’t seem real. Her spot is precisely how she left it. Bed unkempt, lavender slippers adjacent the closet still with the little dust-bunny she never picked off. It’s been months but I lose her again every night. Every time I creep over to kiss her good-night I slip into her non-existent presences once more. Every use of the restroom when I run out of paper and call her with no answer in return. She’s promised to always be there. And she isn’t here now.
Audio / Visual companion -
Song:
Cheetah Girls- It’s Over
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLsO5TdKtJQ
Four voices perfectly blendingRight from the start
Ooh, I'm afraid that's ending
And my world is fallin' apart
It's over and I feel so alone
This is a sadness I've never known
How did I let the sweetest of dreams slip away?
And I'm afraid the hurt is here to stay
Promises made, not meant to be broken
From a long time ago
Ooh, so many words still unspoken
Tell me how was I to know?
It's over, never thought it would be
Why in the world did this happen to me
How could I let the sweetest of dreams slip away?
And I'm afraid the hurt is here to stay
I go round and round and round in my head
Wanting to take back whatever I said
No one was right, we all made mistakes
I'm ready to do whatever it takes, please
Don't let it be over
No, this is not how it ends
I need my sisters, my family, my friends
Don't wanna let the sweetest of dreams slip away
'Cause if it's over then the hurt is here to stay
Don't let it be over
Please, don't let it be over
Please, don't let it be over
So I chose to do Kesey’s formatting of writing to impact the way I wrote the piece Kesey’s writing of memories Bromden In “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” was sometimes vague and lacking detailed descriptions of the smaller stuff. Sometimes Cheif memories seem to come fast and happened to be a bit confusing and needed to be pieced together. I took a bit of a left in his style of writing by making my story seem to be a bit more faster and confusing. I didn't want the story to flow like Ken Kesley, I wanted the rhythm to be hard to keep up with until it slowed to a point. Stylistically I also choose to veer left making the beginning a dream sequence.
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