School Assignment8:13 PM
Today I was supposed to write a narrative from the point of view of a person going insane and let the reader know that the person was going insane, without actually saying that, of course. Here it is:
Everybody liked the party. The party was bright and happy. However, it was really nothing proper for someone like me, as I was used to a simple life. That was how I had been raised.
I probably would have liked the party, except for the fact that all the ladies and gentlemen in bustle dresses and tailcoats made me feel little and unimportant.
When we were supposed to dance I did not dance. I sat down at the side of the room and watched the people dance. Watching the people dance made me feel dizzy and I sighed. I wanted to dance but I found myself too busy looking out the window. When I looked out the window I saw more rain than grass. It was strange, I thought. Too much water made me feel like I was drowning. It had been that way since I had drank too much water at the beginning of the party and I choked. Nobody liked comics here. That was why I did not dance. There was nobody like me. Even the people who did like comics did not have ways of doing things like me. I did things well, I thought. I could run a car better than Hernsley Jones.
I liked the way the women’s dresses trailed on the floors. I wanted a dress like the one I had seen. It was pink and orange and too many things all at once. I liked too many things all at once. Some people maybe thought that a dress like that was too cramped, too many things all at once. I didn’t think so. I liked cramped and too many things and coziness.
My friends said to be neat and behave properly at the party. I didn’t know what they meant by behave properly but I thought that I was doing it. My opinion was pretty good and what I thought usually held. I liked having my thoughts held. All my friends said it was a good thing, and when we got together to talk about things they always listened to me. That made me think of times when nobody did really listen to me. I was just little then. That was what the party made me think. I didn’t hear anything because it—something—stopped me, made everything a little blurry like a bad daguerreotype.
If they went out I was supposed to, too. I didn’t know how to go out. There was a door that was big and shiny like a polished seashell I have. I like collecting seashells. I put them to my ear and hear the ocean. But I didn’t think that big heavy doorknob was made for turning. I saw more rain than grass outside. The door would just upset that. The natural order of things.
I did things well, I thought. My opinions were held. My friends told me so. The noise was so bad that I thought I would fall to the floor with all the dancing people and those nice women’s dresses that trailed on the floor. But I didn’t. Or at least I don’t think so. I can’t tell what happens. It’s not my responsibility, after all. I sat a little and waited and thought there was something wrong with the natural order of things.