Creative Writing from 30,000 Feet

On my flight back from Oregon, I started a fictional piece with no destination determined. Below is a story with no promises of when it will be completed. Ignore any grammatical or spelling errors. It's strickly free-form writing with no editing applied.

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She was an ornery girl who, at times, was a little full of her self. But if she was, it was because she knew. Though it took her awhile, a long while, to figure out this was her sin to overcome – pride. Fate kept slapping her down each time she puffed up at her own achievements. Not a bad thing except it was her sin, her blindness, the thing that made her weak and vulnerable. And not very likable. And so, after many times getting knocked down and being confused by each swipe, she finally got it. Understanding, over the course of a few years, began to dawn upon her. Yes, she was smart and intuitive yet a complete blockhead. Everyone has their contradiction and this was one of hers.

Her family adored her and she adored them, though she was often confused for many years by their complex and twisted relationships. The way that there was not one time she could remember when everyone was on speaking terms with everyone else. There was always at least one person who was not speaking to another. Her family had just gone through a strange and groundbreaking experience. Yet, there was one member that, knowingly or not, was holding up the completion of the communication circle, the moment when all parties were willingly talking to each other. Ann’s grudge ran deep, her anger justified, though its expiration date was now an embarrassment to her alone. The anger, though having a reason years ago, now was a hole to which every wrong was thrown into. Clarice’s relationship inability and lack of self, with a strong dose of cruelness, had designated her as the emotional dumping ground again. This time not by Mother but the self-designated mother, the eldest – Ann. Would this cycle ever end? Clarice could not be pitied as she herself had famed the flames of family dysfunction when the embers were nearly cold and peace looked possible years ago. No one forgets, even if they never speak of it. No one forgave her. Everyone's successes were contributions to her failures, a connection she willed, driving her to retaliate against injustices that never existed. Six sisters. Too many sisters where disconnection was a disease with the root the mother who never grew up, who became a mother as a child herself. It was tumor that prevented health but begun, finally, to shrink. Any measurement was a victory in this family.

Yes, Sarah was an ornery girl. But she was entitled to some attitude for all she endured growing up. The rejection, the looks and smirks, a glance that, in until even into her mid-twenties, could make her feel the part of the ugly, fat 12 year old. Yet her enthusiasm for life could never be extinguished, her unfailing belief of possibilities, and refusal to lie down and accept what life handed her. Being the youngest, the baby, was overrated and didn’t amount to anything in some families. Except that the absolute exclusion from the club of sisterhood, while making it an unbearable cold childhood, was her salvation from the self-destructive frenzy they created for themselves. This sisterhood her heart longed for was in reality a pit that none ever let the others claw and crawl away from.

Only well into adulthood and with her own daughters’ childhood halfway through did she finally understand the gift God bestowed on her during those dark years. Her loneliness was what she had to endure to be insured a life with hope and love. And it allowed to eventually help her sisters emerge from their own dark islands that they stubbornly remained on, not understanding they remained stranded by their own choices. It took a mother to help Mother find her lifeboat. Only when she showed a willingness to leave her own personal hell did the sisterhood consider, dare to believe, it was possible to do the same. Some need to be led by example, knowing no other way to operate.

Sarah was exhausted. This is the way it was. It had been seven years since the last encounter with the sisterhood. An outsider would never understand the lack of contact, the poison recovery time, something that could never be explained.

Yet, this time, a series of miracles happened. People spoke and of their own choosing. No guilt had been administered, no anger had flared, no resentment bared its sharp teeth. It was the equivalent of the second coming and everyone held his or her breath, waiting to see who would break the wondrous spell but no one did. No feelings required mending, no further emotional damage occurred, no therapist could add these events to the ongoing case study the family had unwillingly become.

Paul’s secret, or not so secret, desire was to bring the family back to Texas where most had been born. Nearing fifty, his father and grandmother gone, he became aware and panicked at the lack of connection within the family. He never understood the sisterhood or Mother but he no longer cared nor was willing to continue to keep his distance from their brand of insanity. His sites were set on the permanent reunion of his remaining family.

He lured and offered, promises only to be fulfilled with the small requirement of returning to their family roots. None accepted. Tempted but none willing to take the leap, the very trait that was contributed to each of their own unhappiness. Paul’s dream may not have been their answer but their inability to move out of their miserable comfort zone caused each of them to be stuck, to not find happiness or growth. Humans greatest failing is the unwillingness to try, the absolute terror of failure, not recognizing this was the vital ingredient to success and enjoyment of life. The leap, the risk to fail, and not collapsing and retreating when failure occurred. The greatest humans have been the ones most willing to fail, recognizing the invaluable knowledge in failures, not in successes. But philosophy was beyond the sisterhood, requiring, instead to be lead by the nose to the destiny they desperately wanted.