Chernobyl, Pripyat
I awoke with the sound of rattling chains. The noise surrounded my head, leaving a ringing at the back of my ears. The felt like it lasted for an eternity, but it was
only a brief amount of seconds until i realised i had a pounding headache. It felt like a never ending pain, that continued to secret and mask my hearing.
I had been hit.
The sun slowly drifted behind a cloud leaving a dark shadow on my face. It sent a cold chill down my spine. The floor felt cold too. Leaving my flesh cold. So cold, as though blood had never ran in it. Although my back was cold, the beams of sunlight embraced my skin, causing my arms to glow. The light made me feel safe. Safe? What is safe?
I attempted to open my eyes but the rheum surrounding my iris clenched to my eyelids, making it uneasy to open them. Blinking twice, I slowly obliterated the rheum. The sunlight appeared from behind the cloud and masked my vision once again. I continued to examine the area. My eyes quickly scanned the area to find something familiar, but nothing to avail. In this post apocalyptic wasteland, the only sense of normality is that of the disused bumper cars, stationed directly in my sight. Once a symbol of fun, now lay redundant; a husk of its former self. An object of fun, now a symbol of decay and destitution. It felt bizarre that the bumped are would never be ridden again. The children's laughter would be never heard over the top of the music, or even the electric currents of the car. Nothing; just silence.
My eyes swimming in and out of focus as my vision is replaced by my imagination. A new atmosphere was placed in my mind.
It wasn't just one exhausted, abandoned bumper car, there was at least seven in my sight. I now believed that it wasn't a post apocalyptic wasteland but a wild, decayed swamp of disused fair rides and misfortune. Lifting my head upwards, my eyes were met with a metal frame, camouflaged in overgrown weeds and branches. The rusty metal cars covered the vast majority of the bumper car enclosure, the rust appeared as if it was painted on the metal, the never ending colours of orange and brown continuously caught my sight. The framework was neat. Each bar perfectly proportioned to one another. Each bar curved over and under the other at a precise angle. At a slight glance, my eyes met again in the middle of the frame. There hung a single flower. White spheres in dense clusters, each one made out of overlapping petals; that curved and nested on themselves. The flower was so pure, that it had me un-doubting that the wasteland where i sit feeling obscurely calm, symbolised nothing but faith and purity. Yet I have never felt so distant and secluded from the outside. My feelings were met mutually in the middle of wanting to scream and wanting to explore the misfortune.
I awoke with the sound of rattling chains. The noise surrounded my head, leaving a ringing at the back of my ears. The felt like it lasted for an eternity, but it was
only a brief amount of seconds until i realised i had a pounding headache. It felt like a never ending pain, that continued to secret and mask my hearing.
I had been hit.
The sun slowly drifted behind a cloud leaving a dark shadow on my face. It sent a cold chill down my spine. The floor felt cold too. Leaving my flesh cold. So cold, as though blood had never ran in it. Although my back was cold, the beams of sunlight embraced my skin, causing my arms to glow. The light made me feel safe. Safe? What is safe?
I attempted to open my eyes but the rheum surrounding my iris clenched to my eyelids, making it uneasy to open them. Blinking twice, I slowly obliterated the rheum. The sunlight appeared from behind the cloud and masked my vision once again. I continued to examine the area. My eyes quickly scanned the area to find something familiar, but nothing to avail. In this post apocalyptic wasteland, the only sense of normality is that of the disused bumper cars, stationed directly in my sight. Once a symbol of fun, now lay redundant; a husk of its former self. An object of fun, now a symbol of decay and destitution. It felt bizarre that the bumped are would never be ridden again. The children's laughter would be never heard over the top of the music, or even the electric currents of the car. Nothing; just silence.
My eyes swimming in and out of focus as my vision is replaced by my imagination. A new atmosphere was placed in my mind.
It wasn't just one exhausted, abandoned bumper car, there was at least seven in my sight. I now believed that it wasn't a post apocalyptic wasteland but a wild, decayed swamp of disused fair rides and misfortune. Lifting my head upwards, my eyes were met with a metal frame, camouflaged in overgrown weeds and branches. The rusty metal cars covered the vast majority of the bumper car enclosure, the rust appeared as if it was painted on the metal, the never ending colours of orange and brown continuously caught my sight. The framework was neat. Each bar perfectly proportioned to one another. Each bar curved over and under the other at a precise angle. At a slight glance, my eyes met again in the middle of the frame. There hung a single flower. White spheres in dense clusters, each one made out of overlapping petals; that curved and nested on themselves. The flower was so pure, that it had me un-doubting that the wasteland where i sit feeling obscurely calm, symbolised nothing but faith and purity. Yet I have never felt so distant and secluded from the outside. My feelings were met mutually in the middle of wanting to scream and wanting to explore the misfortune.
