Friday, June 14, 2013

(PORTFOLIO) Chapter Eighteen: Artifact #3

          This is a revised version of my second flash fiction piece, which was very much based on emotion and character interactions. It was also very unfinished, very unsure of what it wanted to be. Originally I focused the story on Dana, but when rewriting the tale, I realized it worked better if Heather was our window into the story. I also refocused the story onto the time leading up to the surgery itself, which was difficult; I really want to follow up on the concept of a modern day, medically-created mermaid, but I think The Morning Of works better if the audience doesn't know if the surgery goes well. I wanted to make a story where plastic surgery isn't demonized nor glorified; it just is. This piece showcases my skills with dialogue, along with my love for mixing the supernatural with drama between characters. The fact that I resolved to return and edit this immediately after writing the original was the final sign that this revised piece belonged in my portfolio.

The Morning Of
         
          Heather looked out the window of her hospital room and smiled. She brushed a hair back and turned her head to look at the entrance to her room. Dana was supposed to be visiting soon. She had to hurry; the operation was only twenty minutes away. Less, hopefully. I need it to be less, I want to do it now.
          Dana suddenly entered her vision, dressed in grey and scarves and glasses and frizziness.
“Dana!” Heather cried out. Dana smiled and hugged her, then pulled up a chair.
“I’d offer you a coffee, but I’m guessing you can’t eat anything,” Dana apologized, sipping her latte. Heather shook her head.
“No, it’s okay. I’m so excited, I don’t even care.” Lattes were her favorite.
Dana looked up at the clock. “You’re still excited?”
“I’ve been excited every day for a month,” Heather said.
“Because if you’re not, Heather, it’s okay. You can still back out.” Dana’s mouth shifted to one side of her face, and she reached out a hand to Heather’s. “You can totally still back out. No one would blame you, it’s such a risky-“
“Dana,” Heather cut off, “ I want to do this. I’ve thought about it so much, and having this conversation one more time? It’s not good for either of us.” Heather smiled and squeezed Dana’s hand. “I’m ready for new adventures, Dana. I’m ready to go to places no one else has ever been, to be the first person to do this.”
“There are so many better ways to go about having adventures,” Dana said, her voice choking up a bit, “so many better ways.”
“There were so many better ways to…” Heather struggled to think of an analogy that would help Dana understand. Dana, blogger. Dana, tennis champion. Dana, physics major. “Beat the big scary Russians. There were lots of better ways to do that, but we went to the moon. I want to go to the moon, Dana.”
Dana’s tears fell freely now. “The moon was so much safer than this. They’d been planning for years.”
“They've been planning this for years, too. They've tested it on animals already, and it’s worked.”
“You’re not a rat, Heather…you’re my best friend.” She grabbed Heather with her arms and held her tight. “I-I’m sorry, I- I’m just really scared, I don’t want anything to-to-“
Heather hugged her back, whispering comfort until the doctors came to take her away. She said a little prayer that the surgery would work, and that Dana wouldn’t be too scared.
The operating room was filled with doctors, nurses, people in white and blue and violet.
“Count backwards from fifty, Heather,” said one doctor, masked…the voice was kind and familiar, though. “When you wake up, you’ll be…”

“…the world’s first mermaid,” Heather finished sleepily. She drifted into a future, full of hope and anesthesia. 

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