Art

There was a hiss - the hiss was from the stereo followed by an almost inaudible click.  The hiss became a voice  a male voice, tender, and soft, gentle, sleepy

Today when you purchased this tape you have decided to change your life forever.  No more worries, no more hang-ups, no more messed-up life.  You are the only one who can change your life

Lay back.  Dim the lights.  Adjust the stereo sound so that it is comfortable - like soft, gentle, whispers.  Feel your body slowly relax.  Feel a comfortable warmth move over your toes, your legs, your thighs.  Feel it slowly sliding over your torso, like a warm blanket, moving up to your fingertips, then your arms, then over your shoulders.  Feel this warm blanket of comfort enfold you.  You are relaxed now, you want to close your eyes, your lids have become heavy you want to sleep a deep, comforting, relaxing sleep.  Gently, now, close your eyes, sleep.

You are now asleep alone, safe.  It is dark.  The darkness comforts you.  Look into the darkness.  Gently, slowly, see faces emerge from the darkness - faces of people who have put you down, those who told you that you are worthless, that you are useless, that you are bad and lazy, that you are good for nothing.  Slowly, watch their faces materialize from the darkness. See their taunting eyes, their sneers, hear them.  Hear their insults, how they giggle at you, how they laugh at you, how they call you names.  Hear their voices.  You are safe.  The darkness has enveloped you.  They cannot touch you or come near you.   You are safe.  Watch their faces vanish into puffs of smoke.  Listen to their voices fade into a whisper.  Feel how the darkness swallows them and how the darkness comforts you.

See a light flicker into view.  Watch its warm glow swell out of the darkness.  Feel the air in your room, warm, enfolding.  Feel the gentle, slow caresses of the air on your skin.  Feel it growing warm like the light.  Listen carefully.  Listen to the voices, the whispers.  Listen to what they are saying  You are beautiful, you are good, you are perfect.  Listen to the quiet brushing of the wind against your curtains.  They are telling you to let go of the pain, the worry - let go.   Feel the darkness lifting you.  Feel yourself reaching for the light, the warm comforting light.  Float towards the light, the warm glow, fly free - free of everything.  Float to the beautiful place, the world beyond the light.  Fly into the light.

When I count to three you will feel yourself slowly awaken.  When you wake up, you will feel how it was in the light and you will want to stay in the light...three.  When I finish you will stand and look at yourself in the mirror and you will know what to do, how it felt in the light, and how it really feels to be the real you...two.  You are slowly opening your eyes now, you can now feel your chest growing heavy with pain, with worry, you are now waking up, gently coming back to the real world, slowly, gently...one... 
(Hisssssssssssssss)

He stood and looked at the mirror.  He turned away.

He kicked the stool it cart-wheeled across the floor.  The boom box that was on the stool slammed onto the wooden planks of the room.  The stereo hissed.   
He clawed at the rope that tightened around his neck.  He flailed he reached for the rope that hung from the rafters.  The rope was straining, taut against his weight.  His legs thrashed in mid-air blindly locating the stool that was meters away.  He jerked, quivered, and was limp  he jerked - quivered.
His eyes were open, the whites profuse with fine red blood vessels that had popped at certain places.  Bloody tears formed at the rims and corners of his eyes.    Saliva tinged with blood streamed from the right corner of his mouth, falling to the floor, one viscous drop after the other.  The rafters chuckled.  He jerked.  He was in the beautiful place  beyond the light.


Explanation for choosing this medium

    I chose fiction to express myself creatively because I feel I am more articulate with words.  I am able to convey and express my emotions more creatively using words because I know that with words I can paint images in the minds of my readers.  Unlike the visual arts that limit the viewers imagination to what is shown in a painting or a photograph, I believe words can allow the readers imagination to go wild because of this, the reader is able to identify himselfherself with me, the writer, who, through the creative effort of writing a piece of fiction attempts to convey my emotions to the reader.  I feel that words have a more malleable quality and have a power greater than that of visual arts.  The power of words, for me, lies in the fact that with words I can create worlds, character, and situations, and all these creations come alive in the mind of the reader.