Here's my vignette, have a read and comment? :3
Black Friday
The sharp jingling of my alarm woke me. I sat up and stretched while the rain pelted down. I glanced at my calendar: Friday, which meant black. I took a black CD from my drawer and popped it into my music player. Lady GaGa’s “Born this Way” filled my bedroom.
Carefully, I tiptoed towards my wardrobe, making sure my foot touched only the yellow squares of my citrus-themed rug. I flung open the double doors and smiled at the neatly-organized contents inside. Black lace, black cotton, blue satin, blue stripes, white chiffon, white denim. Grabbing the black lace dress, I tiptoed back to my bed; this time I only touched the green squares.
I stood and analysed my candidate with critical eyes. I thought it would make quite an impression on my first date. Such a lovely black slip dress hemmed with matching lace; the plunging neckline was sure to impress. I undressed slowly, making sure there was no mistake in my ritual. I took off my cream yellow long-sleeved shirt and folded it neatly, then placed it in the centre of my bed. Next were my matching pants which went horizontally across my shirt.
My pyjamas looked oddly out of place on my thunderstorm of a bed. Very disturbing image. I placed my sleepwear on my pillow. The bed needs attention. Bed sheets were tugged and straightened until not a crease could be seen. My sleepwear was returned to the centre of my bed as I fluffed out my pillow. Content, I danced along the orange stripes that bordered my rug and stepped into my bathroom.
Water rained down on me as I imagined myself outside in the pouring rain. I made sure I was soaking wet before turning off the taps. Relief. How I loved my foggy cloudy moments. My stomach grumbled and I could almost taste that delicious Eggs Benedict I would soon be eating with Clarence. As I massaged shampoo into my hair, the floral aroma curled around me. Next was conditioner. Combing it through my hair with my hands, my tresses became as smooth as newly-spun silk.
Water drenched me once more as the steam of the hot jets fogged up the glass. I started to soap up. My skin became jellyfish-like. Where are my bubbles? Alarmed, I looked at the bottle I had used. “Conditioner”. Frustrated, I glanced at my watch: 7:30. Not enough time. I turned the rain into a storm and waited as the conditioner washed out. Time to start over.
I filled my palm with shampoo and kneaded it into my hair as if I were an angry baker, kneading extra flour into my dough. I rinsed then slopped on conditioner, like adding eggs to the dough. Storm clouds showered upon me once more. This time, I made sure I grabbed the right bottle. I squeezed the contents onto a new sponge and started scrubbing. Hard. I sang happily as I felt the dirt and dust of my long slumber being scrubbed away. I was a snake shedding its old skin. My bubbles! They covered me like a blanket, like wool on sheep. I rinsed myself clean and stepped out of the shower. It had stopped raining.
I sucked in my stomach and wrestled with the zip. I relaxed as my curves filled the fabric. Uh-oh! A rip. Oh no! The honk of a car. Late for my date! I glanced out the window - posh red Ferrari. At least he’s got style. Stripping off my dress, I tiptoed onto the yellow squares once more in hopes of finding a backup in my wardrobe. Unsure, I grabbed the white chiffon dress. It was the only other acceptable option.
My fingers fumbled with the little knobs of white chiffon buttons. Middle, up, middle, down, up. Goodness sakes! Missed a middle button! Frustrated, I tore it off and started again. Another honk! Heart pounding, I checked my bag. Dettol, check. Purse, check. Tissues, check. White umbrella, check. Black umbrella, check. Striped umbrella, check. Makeup case, check. Wet wipes, check. Mobile, check. Ready to go!
Giving my bed sheets one last pat, I closed my door and turned the lock, straining to hear the usual click. Another honk?! Who does he think he is? I clomped down the stairs in my six-inch heels, making sure my fingers slid along the banister. Skipping the last step, I jumped and landed with a thud. I could hear the Ferrari revving, loud, louder. I squeezed out some hand sanitizer as I tottered out to the driveway. Just in time…
…to see the red Ferrari drive off and have my white chiffon dress splattered in oozy mud. Oh dear! I stomped my feet and tossed my hair. I exhaled. I looked down to assess the damage. My lips twitched. Catching sight of my reflection in a puddle, I smiled, the sign I was waiting for.
Friday means black. Not white.
Author's Statement:
Background:
The story is about a girl who has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Throughout the story she displays this by doing particularly unusual things such as stepping on certain coloured squares or wearing clothes a particular colour or way. However her actions are not explained within the vignette. Since it is written in the first person past tense it allows the reader to have a more intimate view on her life.
The girl is in her ensuite preparing for a morning breakfast date but due to her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder she takes a long time preparing herself. She is supposed to wear black that day. However, her black dress is ruined and she has to wear white. This makes her feel uncomfortable and overly anxious. Her date arrives and becomes impatient with waiting for the girl. This adds to her uneasiness. She becomes nervous and ends up making mistakes during her unique rituals and has to redo them. By the time she makes it out of the house into the street, her date is sick of waiting and drives off, splattering mud onto her white dress, turning it “black”. This proves to her that her belief of wearing certain colours on certain days is crucial. This belief is also due to her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
Clarity is seen when she realises that there is nothing wrong with being her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder self.
Generous use of appeal towards the five senses and a plethora of figurative language such as simile and metaphor can be seen in the following paragraph, personally recognised as the best:
I filled my palm with shampoo and kneaded it into my hair as if I were an angry baker, kneading extra flour into my dough. I rinsed then slopped on conditioner, like adding eggs to the dough. Storm clouds showered upon me once more. This time, I made sure I grabbed the right bottle. I squeezed the contents onto a new sponge and started scrubbing. Hard. I sang happily as I felt the dirt and dust of my long slumber being scrubbed away. I was a snake shedding its old skin. My bubbles! They covered me like a blanket, like wool on sheep. I rinsed myself clean and stepped out of the shower. It had stopped raining.
An illustration of the girl drenched in mud with the red Ferrari driving away in the background would enhance my story. Of course, the girl will be smiling cheerfully.
Intended effects: to be both entertaining and informative about the distress of people with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. This is conveyed through the actions and thoughts of the main character.
