Hallie’s Pendulum

| December 20, 2013 | 0 Comments

Allyson Hoy, BMS Journalism

Tiring is the word. Tiring defines school, logistics, and life itself. Tiring is the sensational term that strikes us when we think of certain things, feel certain things, or imagine certain things. These things that we think, feel, and imagine make us tired; they make us worry, causing us to transform these unaccomplished components into burdens. The things we as humans stress about depend on our environment, schedule, and lifestyle- our worries and troubles come to all of us in many different ways, for many different reasons.

….This is what we tell ourselves, however, in the end we can all conclude that the worry and grief exist in us humans because of one reason: we are fallible.  

-Allyson Hoy

Hallie bolts past the immense structures in the erroneous factory, trying to discover a way out. She gawks at the countless rusted pipes blanketing the ceiling, and dodges the enormous gears that would consume her if her skin was caught.  Steam bounced off of the artless, concrete walls, making it harder to breathe and easier to sweat. This was her fault. She had upset someone, some way, because she had gone too far. Hallie never intended to hurt anybody.  Unknown voices whisper in her ears, “You’re not going to change. You’re not going to become a better person. You’re not smart enough; you’re not strong enough.”  She wanted to be someone else at the moment, someone who would know how to handle such fiasco. Indeed, she beamed at imagining this; escaping and disposing of this person she had created in her complicated mental factory, requiring only one component of her as an individual to feed its ultimate power source: her flaws.

The musty steam begins to clear as she comes upon an enormous door. It is wooden, with the characteristics not that of a building door, but a bedroom door. Hallie is relieved when she sees the two pink crosses to the left of the door. “This is my room,” Hallie tells herself. “I will open this door, and I will be safe.” This was yet another mistake that awaited Hallie. Quickly, she turns the knob, and rushes in her room, sensing deliverance.

The door slams with great resonance. Hallie turns pale.

“Oh, no,” she worries, “I slammed the door.”

He hates it when I slam the door.”

Hallie’s mind begins to consume her more than it already had. Her head spins, and her hands shake with anger, sadness, and hatred- hatred of herself.

She begins to shut down, ignoring all other aspects of her life, wishing she never existed. She glances at her mirror. Her face is covered with tears and columns of black tar from her mascara. Hallie is incredibly used to viewing her face as this- tired, sad, disheartened. She glances away from the mirror, and she encounters a sudden miraculous change in location. Hallie is no longer in her bedroom, but mentally trapped in a pit with a relentless, ticking pendulum; a pendulum in which only sways closer and closer with every situation allowing another flaw to become visible. The most horrible element and sensation of the pendulum is when she thinks it is over and swaying away; suddenly, it creeps closer, then strikes again. The pain this pendulum inflicts is not physical, but features such strong, powerful, emotional discomfort that it becomes a paroxysm for Hallie; causing her to twist and convulse with terror.

Suddenly, Hallie hears a soft, familiar knock on her door.

Category: Creative Writing

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