When I first learnt what a pastiche was I wasn’t exactly into the whole idea. I firmly believe as a writer that you are your own voice. However when a certain English teacher decides to hand out an assignment like this, I must bow down to the higher authority. I’m not a good if anything I’m probably the worst in my whole year; I don’t know what the difference between a noun and an adjective is. I prefer to be a reader, instead. My favorite author is Stephen king, who said
“Fiction is the truth inside the lie”.
(This quote is sending the message that fiction is a warning, it is a warning to our own ignorance and what can happen if we keep ignoring our issues.
The message within that quote reminded me of the day when I went to the city to run some errands, it was a silent day with everyone at work, kids at school old people walking down the park- it was another lazy day in the city. Then almost as in out of nowhere, this dark menacing creature came towards me. Growling and making weird noises, stopped for a second, shook my head and started walking not turning my head. My mother taught me never.look.back.
But this time I did look back and what I saw was not an animal or a beast but a human asking for spare change for food and shelter. I knew I had some spare change, I knew while I paid for my expensive items that I had more than enough money to give away. And yet as I returned I just walked past him. To this day it still bugs me.
Why didn’t I stop?
Why do I feel guilty now?
This incident was where my story began to form.
In a perfect city, in a perfect world where happy people lived, there lived a young maiden. She lived in a comfortable apartment with a comfortable job and took the commute train to work. You could say she was living her happy ever after. - All she needed now was her prince.
On her way to her workplace, stepmother industries, the day seemed not so perfect but the young maiden sat at her desk polished and preened, papers stacked neatly in order. Everything was perfect, but the young maiden still couldn’t shake the feeling of being less than perfect.
As if on cue, the young maiden’s office phone began to chirp to life. Picking up the phone the maiden listened intently as her higher authority ordered her to present herself to them immediately. The young maiden was neither nervous nor scared. She had done nothing wrong, she never stole from the company, or slacked in her hard work unlike some other of her colleagues which she would not mention. She was not a judging person on people’s wrongful actions.
Stepping into the reception room of the higher authority she acknowledged her presence to the old secretary, who simply smiled and nodded with knowing eyes and told the young maiden to go straight in. The young maiden opened the large oak door, and was met with a dark hint of tobacco smoke “please come in” boomed the higher authority .Timidly the young maiden entered the dark musty room and waited. Silence. “Do you know why your here?” “No sir” the young maiden replied staring into the darkness, trying to see and outline of a person.
“Well my dear” the voice replied “I’m sorry to inform you but we are going to have to let you go please have your desk cleaned out by Friday thank you have a good day.” the voice said with a sugary tone. The young maiden went to her desk. Picked up her briefcase .walked down the hall and left the building. While walking home she spotted the old Mother Hubbard feeding her pigeons by the fountain.
The next day the sun was shining brightly .It was another perfect day the birds were chirping children were laughing it was another perfect day in the city .the young maiden was knew anyone would be lucky to have her as their employee. Walking with a hop in her step the young maiden began her long journey towards the center of the city to resume her happily ever after.
Three months later
It has been three months since the young maiden has had a job. Her perfect life, is still perfect but in a not-so-perfect way. She couldn’t afford to keep her perfect apartment instead she found a quite comfortable cardboard box in a nice alley way. The young maiden didn’t look very young anymore; her clothes were tattered and unwashed. Her beautiful hair now tatty and tangled, unwashed and unclean hr hair was now like tangles of thorns unkempt, unruly and ready to catch anything that dare digs within it. The young maiden wasn’t smiling nor was she enthusiastic after six months of job hunting. Nobody wanted to take her as and employee, after months and months of disappointment and bills being stacked higher and higher by her doorway forcing her to sell all her worldly possessions, her luck just seemed to have run out. The young maiden didn’t smile anymore. She was too tired and hungry to even try.
Some days the young maiden would sit outside of Stepmothers Industry begging for change. She often saw her work colleagues walk past but, they never acknowledged her…
The sun was shining bright that day apart from one small alley way where the young maiden now presided. It had been three days since the young maiden had eaten for far of herself dying in a dirt alleyway had resorted to searching for old pieces of iron to sell at the scrap heap. Upon the piles and piles of rubbish the young maiden could not find any iron. She looked and looked and LOOKED but could not find anything. The young maiden was sad and she feared for her life that she would die alone, and in dirt.
She was almost about to give up when all of a sudden old mother Hubbard shuffled into the alleyway and gave her a knowing toothless smile. She dropped a few pieces of iron scraps and shuffled off. This gave the young maiden a new sense of hope. Maybe it can work out she could always get back on her feet; the young maiden knew things could always get better.
In a perfect city, in a perfect world the young children from a quite well known private school were off to the museum for an excursion climbing off the bus thy stood in two neat lines awaiting their teacher’s instructions. While standing three the children noticed a strange creature sitting by the fountain clasping onto rusted pieces of metal. The children began talking wildly and awing at the sight. The littlest of the children piped up I know who that is! Who?? All the children questioned glancing towards the littlest boy. The littlest boy smiled a smug smile lapping up the attention. Hats the iron maiden he declared, she collects iron for money and food.