In order to become more comfortable with my writing, I will be publishing a creative piece every month. Each piece will be more recent than the previous one to reflect my growth. No part of these works have been edited, so brace yourselves for cringeworthy mistakes. This second piece, which I titled "Ingressive Integration," was written a little over a year ago as a creative extension to a required reading book. The book in question is Neil Gaiman's "Ocean at the End of the Lane." Here is the reflection I wrote describing the piece as well as the piece itself.
For this assignment, I wrote a short story and what could be considered a deleted scene. I chose it because I wondered, with a character as interesting as Ursula’s, if the portal was more than a portal. I think that Ursula was a clever character and since her actions were based on survival, she was desperate and therefore created an extension of herself within the portal. It illuminates not only Ursula’s desperation but the magic that only children possess. This idea is illustrated throughout the book because it is the narrator and Lettie who are primarily heroic. I didn’t use any direct citations or paraphrase any text because the voice of this short story came from an original character. However, the book was definitely helpful for various parts.
The journey ended at the boy’s heart. That much was evident. There, it would find the obligatory pockmarks of love (dedicated to his family) residing next to the self-inflicted ones (dedicated to the ceaseless wonders of his world). Its extension shuddered with Ursula’s anticipation, for there was undeniable magical power in each beat, scar, and crevice. This was why she had chosen to devour him; people were especially vulnerable when they didn’t know of the potential residing inside of them.
But the journey began in the hole of his foot and the extension had a ways to go. The start was blank, but the extension knew that the boy’s insides were a capricious wonderland. As of the moment, the being was navigating the tangled barbs of suppressed pain. The boy’s world was quite different from Ursula’s. Ursula’s world had been order before it had become depleted because there was nothing but truth. It was a sadistic cycle: humans exhaled lies, lies intoxicated their worlds, the pollution suffocated the truth, and then the lies became the truth. At least in Ursula’s world, its inhabitants hadn’t been the ones to trash their home.
And now the journey had furthered itself, and the extension was in a murky sea of irrelevant information. This part was easy to go through. Tiny creatures attempted to snap at it with rounded teeth. Ursula’s extension felt information rustling through its body with each bite before it dissipated away. There were names of cities in France, the precise color of maroon, a fantastic one liner from a Batman comic…all there and then gone. This was another difference—humans could forget things in a second, remember then again, and suddenly they were forgotten again. Yet, those memories lingered against the back walls of their mind. Ursula knew everything, remembered everything, could draw back anything she pleased. It seemed that humans had such fragile minds.
Ursula had told the extension of this part of the journey. It was exuberant and glowing with infinite color, a creation of all the knowledge the boy learned and loved. The heart was close. Even in the veins of this part, the extension could feel the ripples of heartbeats. The extension could feel Ursula’s overpowering greed at the sensation. The magic was irresistibly close but there was no way to speed through. Beings of all shapes and sizes raced around on endless journeys of their own, and the part of the world she was in seemed to be on a race of its own at the rate it was pulsing. No wonder humans couldn’t retain information…everything they did retain became chaos! Did they even know of order? The extension felt Ursula’s frustration burning in its body.
The journey was nearly complete. The final destination had been reached and it held a radiance of beauty and power. It looked like a compact version of Ursula’s world, glistening and constantly growing anew. The extension could see yet again why Ursula chose the boy. Now came the matter of nestling in the boy’s heart, hiding, and then stealing his magic at the right time. The extension knew that Ursula would summon it when the time came, but it could feel her temptation. Driven by greed, Ursula’s extension began to race into one of the spaces. Rushing feelings of familial affection shattered almost completely out of the hole and left a small, squirming thing in its place. The destruction began at the boy’s heart.
