Last Updated 06 Jul 2020

Vignette – Creative Writing

Category Essay Examples
Essay type Creative
Words 810 (3 pages)
Views 405

Standing there all alone wondering what to do and what I could see. Looking down at all the branches not even being able to see the soft green grass below me. I looked out into the distance thinking to myself I wish I was in a plane flying every day then suddenly my paranoid mother interrupted my marvellous thoughts.

Then I thought to what is it now, what could you possibly want now, "Get out of that bloody tree Michael what have I told you about climbing that tree you'll fall out and crack your head open one day" oh that rant and rave again, I better climb down then before she bites my head off. I started to climb down the near tower of a tree, another plane flew past, so I looked up at the wonderful war bird an f-111 the thoughts were weighing up in my head wow I thought, oh shit as I cracked a branch and fell' is this what it feels like to fly as the sharp and course edges ripped the skin of my legs.

My thoughts were stoped with a hard and rather reliving thud as I hit ground, I then got up and thought stupid mother as ravines amounts of tears were relinquished from my eyes, that's why you don't climb trees said my mum as I slowly crawl up the hill.

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The long hair of my mother becomes more visible every step I take but to my surprise my mother's face was not red with puffs of smoke but a sympathetic look was slapped over her face as she says are u ok Michael, I didn't know what to do so I just walked inside with my caring mother behind me holding my shoulder.

As I went to go to my room my mother suddenly told me to go have a bath and my mind was thinking no water, no not on my cuts, no that will cause more rivers of tears to come gushing from my face, no I said no then my mum came over with some green looking liquid I said to my mum what is that, as the soft words of my mother said this will make the cuts get better.

I thought yes a success no more pain for me to endure, so I quite graciously swung out my legs for my caring mother to attend to my wounds like a nurse attending to a patient. What the hell are you doing, cutting off my foot for as I realised my mother was pouring the liquid over my cuts, she said it might sting a bit, oh by god it was stinging it just felt like she had dropped a cinder block on my leg.

Finally the tears stoped and the pain stoped and I looked down at my leg and my mother was still pouring the acidic liquid over my leg and I thought yes the pains gone as I finally stopped balling my eyes out from my skull I asked my mum what was that thinking it was some magical liquid that could make any kid cry.

She then replied to me that is alcohol it makes your leg better, yea right I thought as I jumped into the bath as quick as I could to wash it off before my leg was all burned off. Then as I emerged from the bath I stuck on some old clothes and thought to myself lets go clime that tree again then I thought no I never want my mother to use that furious concrete burning acid on my body ever again.

Pondering what else can I do, then in the corner of my eye I spotted the piano in the corner of my eye, yes what a perfect idea as the sun started to retreat over the leg amputating trees, so I skipped onto the piano stool ad started tho produce my master piece.

I didn't really like the long black keys I only hit the white ones on the edge of the piano so I stared to hack at the keys in some sort of order pleasing myself but that became pretty boring so I pondered what I could do next I started rocking on my stool back and forth back and forth but suddenly there was no forth as I fell backwards into that flying feeling again.

No no no I thought, smack as my mum hit me across the head then I thought here comes another lecture not to rock on the stool but then this pulse of pain stuck my thought out of my head ripping through the back of my head.

I looked around at the floor red hmmm as I realised oh no mums going to put that liquid on my head and burn my head off the thoughts came rushing out of my head in streams of water again.

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Vignette – Creative Writing. (2017, Oct 11). Retrieved from

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