Inspiration, Devastation

Okay, a story.

I stared at my screen. The slash blinked lazily on the first line of the white blank page. My fingers hovered over the keys, but none dared to launch a letter.

I leaned against the backrest of the cotton sofa. Sinking into the cushion, I felt utterly disappointed by my own creativity. It seemed that I had overestimated it.

I've read many short stories, novels, watched videos about world-building and shaping a good character, I was so motivated that I thought that maybe I would be able to create a world of my own and show it to the world. Unable to retain my enthusiasm I pulled out my phone and tried to squeeze the story juice out of my head. Turned out, I was just a pot of boiling pale water trying to turn into soup. 

But I didn't want to give up.

That's when a thought struck my mind like a bolt. In a split second ideas bursted in front of my eyes like resplendent fireworks. I sat up immediately, trying to grasp them before they faded away into the abyss at the back of my mind.

Darn it! I cursed as they fled. Opening my hand, I only got a smattering of them. I looked into it, it was a scene. There was a girl in a white dress, and there was snow around her as her fringe flowed in the feeble breeze. She looked unhappy.

Who is she? Where is she? Why is she frowning?

I didn't know, I had no idea. This was like telling a blind to guess a colour. My thought was a clogged drain right now and the only plumber to it was myself.

Take a rest, come back to it later. The little voice inside my head told me. The screen on my phone had turned black after minutes of inactivity. I sighed. The little flame of hope of being a good writer started to shrink into the same size as the candle wick. I switched on my phone again and opened Google. Before I finished typing the first word the search history rolled out like a long red mat. 

"How to write a good story?" "How to write science fiction?" "How to write better?" These were the footsteps of mine for the last few days of writing eagerness, I was hoping to forge my skills before starting a tale of my own, yet I still didn't think I was ready. Imagine this, being able to turn your imagination into a big block of book that you could touch and share it with the people on Earth, how great is that? Oddly, when I needed to take a peek at my world in order to bring them out, they all ran away like a mouse saw a cat.

I exited Google out of exasperation of the continuous cycle of trying to write. I decided to rest my mind for a bit, then leashing my thoughts whenever they put down their guard and came out to roam. I tapped open Youtube and scrolled down my recommendation lists, until eventually I got my eyes caught on one of the videos that says 'Top 10 SCP Monsters." 

SCP? Baffled and curious, I leapt into it and discovered something interesting about this made-up foundation. There were multiple monsters and superpowered entities they said were captured in this facility, each of them unique and widely sundry. Another bolt struck my head. The bolt had sent me a piece of the puzzle. The girl, the frown, the snow, and the walls around her.

What if? Inspired, I jumped excitedly like a detective finding the greatest evidence in a crime scene. What if she has powers that is able to warp reality? 

I wavered in the room as if I was a mad scientist near to solving the equation to the mystery of world, brainstorming the picture I managed to grab from my previous fireworks of ideas. My blood boiled and exhiliration gushed through my veins, my brain galloping at full speed.

What if she was frowning because she was trapped? Or even better...CAGED! Just like those in the SCP Foundations! And they did it, out of fear!

This time, I closed my eyes. I dived into my mind, pulling on the thin thread of string that could lead me to the complete story. In order to that, I needed to be there, standing in the perspective of the girl, and the people that imprisoned her too. 

I crawled into the picture which now became clearer than a reflection in the mirror. I stood there as a bystander, on the snow with the girl that looked only ten. I examined my surrounding, the world I had was limited to the room we were in. First I need to know the details of what my character could do. 

I picked up my pen and tore a piece of paper from a notebook I found on the desk. My cold trembling fingers drummed restlessly on the wooden surface. Without a moment of hesitation I jotted down a list of ideas.

The girl became animated, including the snowflakes swirling in the wind around her. The snow weren't cold, because she had never touched snow before, and she had only seen them, this will give her a restriction.

I stood by the guards and scurried through the facility like a thrilled deer arriving to a human-free paradise. I built walls, systems, and what they did to keep the girl at bay. The map had widened.

I did some settings, plotted a backstory and blew determination and an aim into my character to encourage her to break free from this cage that had been tormenting her from being different. Lastly, like a cherry on top, I gave her a name after plenty of research, Aisling.

I opened a new document and started to type in haste before the world drained away like rainwater in a ditch. Finally, when I was done, I stretched my hands into the air triumphantly and decided to take a rest. It may not be the best, but it is a start.

Beaming in satisfaction of my work, I closed the document, took a sip of my already cold tea, and then realized...

I didn't save the file.