Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Emily Hodgson Year 7 2013

Introduction by Mars Drum:

Three years ago, I left Melbourne to live in the Wimmera, and so Drawing Time and Writing Time came to an end, much to the dismay of all members. For the last three years, I have been teaching music, wellbeing and literacy in a small primary school, and also facilitating drawing, painting and video workshops with various groups of disengaged youth in Horsham. I have also been painting and writing a lot. 

I was so delighted to hear from Emily about a month ago. Emily had attended weekly Drawing Time sessions since Grade Prep, and Writing Time for the year it ran, 2011. I asked Emily if she was writing and drawing these days, and she sent through her drawings, which you can see on the Drawing Time for Girls blog, and she also sent through this fantastic piece of writing. 
Emily was unsure of how I would receive this piece, even though it had already won an award. This is what she emailed: 

"One other thing is that last year I wrote a piece for school and won 3rd place for the yr 7 short story contest, and my friend won second, but for some reason, our teacher said our stories were quite dark (I dont believe it is but I might be wrong). So it scared all my friends from reading it, is it okay if I send it to you?"

(I replied)
"Please send me your writing!!! You know me, I'd love to see your stories. I love your writing, and "dark" writing can be amazing! I'm sure my own stories I tell kids are considered a bit dark...but that's why they're good ones and popular!! Are people too scared to watch Harry Potter? Those stories are classic dark tales. I love surreal stories, dark through to light."

It saddens me that there might be school teachers who could destroy artistic confidence or discourage budding authors like Emily. I am so glad that my 2011 Writing Time allowed Emily and other girls to write as freely as they like on any subject, and in any style, knowing there would be only positive feedback and encouragement from the other club members. 

Also check out Emily's poetry from three years before, posted below this one. You will see that she, and the other Writing Time girls, were fascinated and inspired by the poetry of one of my favourite poets, Emily Dickenson. I introduced Emily Dickenson to the Writing Time club with her well-known poem:"Because I could not stop for death", and we all discussed her personification of Death as a kindly old gentleman in a black formal suit and a horse-drawn carriage. Emily Hodgson's three responses to Emily Dickenson's work had me spell-bound. 

I am thrilled to present this latest "dark" story from Emily Hodgson. 

A Short Story

‘Crash! Boom!’
 That was all I remember. I knew I had died but somehow I woke up. I woke up in a foreign place, it was peaceful, I lay on the ground staring up at the sky, the clouds looked real, but how could they be? I died.
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Walking, observing and searching. Searching for something that could tell me what happened.
I followed a path, a path that felt never-ending, a circle going around and around, the same things passing by with slight variations, a different shaped cloud, the trees branches, similar but never the same.
Night, stars, everything. How could this universe exist? How could two places, so similar exist at the same time? Nothing is exactly the same. You never have the same dream more than once; this place is like a dream, a one and only thing, an individual.
Waking up, birds, sunlight, normal. Normal but not the same. Walking on this new Earth. I still have not seen anyone; all I have seen are trees, Earth and sky. I heard the birds chirp, but I never saw any. Walking, again, finding my way through the trees. Never stopping, aching feet and a chattering mind, these things keep me awake, alive in a world of the dead.
Night falls, and day comes, an infinity loop, with me caught in the middle, the time between night and day, an endless dream.
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I keep walking, walking until I finally find something different, another person, a living person in the world of the dead. I run now, running was my highest priority. I reach her, she turns I don’t ask her name, she doesn’t ask mine, we just stare, and then we walk, not knowing why or how we knew that we should, but we both just walked, footsteps in time with each others.
Night was different today, so was day, it was still an endless dream, but with another person in it, it felt like a completely new dream, a new planet to explore.
We talk, first words not ‘Hello’ or ‘nice to meet you’ but:
“How can you be here?” she spoke these words quietly but it was obvious she wanted me to answer.
“I wonder the same thing.” Silence.
“Talking, I never thought that I would ever do this again.” Again silence, neither of us knew what to say, but somehow after minutes of silence, I spoke. I didn’t mean to but I did.
“Do you know why we are here?”
“No”
“Have you seen anyone else?”
“Yes, but only for a few seconds.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You are the only person that has stayed alive here.” She whispered, “People come here but they usually only come for moments and then they just fade away.” She looked up to me, “You’re the only one I’ve seen stay.” She sighed, “I’m Anne.”
“I’m Isabelle.” It’s strange to say my name out loud.
“Isabelle...” she looked at the sky, stars sparkling, she looked back at me and smiled. “Let’s try and find out why we are the only ones here.”
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Dreams inside an endless dream, these things shouldn’t happen but yet they do. My dream last night, we were still walking, Anne stopped to rest, I went ahead, and I didn’t see anything but something felt different, I called to Anne but she was too far behind to hear me, I walk forwards and I find something, I look at the ground and see a sort of mist seeping out of the dirt, I crouch down and dig, I don’t see anything, no mist, nothing. I reach into the dirt and my hands close around something, I pull it out, I open my hand, I can’t see it but I know it’s there.
I wake up.
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We walk again, I reach into my pocket, I didn’t think I had put anything in my pockets, I pulled my hand out and uncurled my fist, nothing, there was something there but I just couldn’t see it, just like my dream.
 We kept walking, until we hear something, we run until we find the person making the noise, a young girl fading in and out of sight. So this is what Anna meant,
Use the stone; it can give her life, but it can only work once.
I looked at Anna, she couldn’t hear it, it was in my head. I think of my family and going back to them, but then I think of this girl, her parents longing for her to live. Anna broke my train of thought.
“She’s not dead, she’s dying.”
I grabbed the stone and pressed it into the girls hand, she stopped fading and smiled.
With that, in that world I stayed.
But I woke up.