creative writing

STRANGER ASSIGNMENT

this was my first homework assignment.

*the stranger assignment*

the task:

step 1: go to a well occupied area, filled with people you have never met before, and have no connection too, in any way. ex: McDonalds, downtown, a park, public library, etc.

step 2: pick any random person who (seems interesting and-) you believe will be staying in said area longer than 20 minutes.

step 3: study said person, and take notes. looks and appearances. hair colour, eye colour, skin tone, physique, clothes etc. and even their behavior and actions.

step 4: watch the person and come up with random accusations about as to what the person is doing, why the person is in that area, what is their background and life story.

and yes, she told us we were basically allowed to be stalkers for 3 days.

*excuse to the police if caught outside some random persons window*

cop: *trying to get me to confess to some wrong deed before arresting me*

me: it's not my fault, honest. this was our homework assignment given to us by our creative writing teacher. she told us to stalk any random person for 30 minutes, so we could right a fake story about them!

(like they're gonna believe that *rolling eyes*)

*I shout, showing them the printed handout she gave us in class.*

cop: just tell it too the judge kid.

me: I'm too young to die!!

*cop rolls his eyes before tugging me to his car*

hehe (coughs awkwardly) anyways.... onto the assignment!

Stranger assignment

Saturday afternoon, 1 pm. I get off the bus, suitcases in hand and my schoolbag against my back hanging from my shoulders. I walk past the Leonardo da Vinci Center. Why? Because I am supposed to be meeting my mother's cousin and her family for the first time. What better place to meet my unfamiliar, yet living family, than a St. Leonard party? I solemnly walk along the sidewalk. I began to hear the rowdy noises of strangers and their kids having a good time, enjoying the food and activities. It was a cute setup, for a city party. There was a stage with musicians. A few activities for children under the age of 8. There were even hammocks and beanbags to rest in, along with food trucks and tables scattered. There were a lot more people than I anticipated, but luckily, they all seemed to be grouped by the tables, food trucks and activities, a large gap between the tables, and the stage. A good 12 meters give or take. So waiting against a tree, I place my suitcases onto the floor, and drop my bag from my shoulders. Running my left hand through my long dirty blond hair, I let out a sigh, checking the time on my phone every now and again.

"Elizabeth?" I heard a voice call out cautiously, turning my head, my cloudy grey-blue eyes meet with a clearer shade of blue, the voice belonging to a woman who resembles my mother in so many aspects of her form. Alongside the woman was a man, just about her age, late or early 30's probably, and a child around the age of 5 or 6. "That's me" I replied timidly, playing with the hem of my white shirt, a nervous tick of mine. "It's nice to meet you Elizabeth, though I wish it were under better circumstances, I'm your mother's cousin, Maria." She said with a sweet smile, her eyes holding sympathy. 'Me too', I thought to myself. "This is my husband Jordan, and my daughter Margret", her husband nodded at me with a smile, a silent way of saying 'hello, nice to meet you'. "Hi, I'm Margret, but you can call me Margie!" said the little girl, with much energy. "Where're your mommy and daddy?" she asked with her head tilted to the side, "why're you alone?" I wince at her questions, trying to prevent the pain from undoing my blank expressionless mask. I didn't want to think about it. It was still way too soon. I don't think there will ever be a time that it wouldn't be. I know that I'm not the only one, but that doesn't change the way I feel about everything that happened. I had been on vacation with a friend of mine, when I heard about the earthquake back at home. What made me worry was that one of the mass destructed areas was where my house and neighbourhood was located. So when I found the names of the deceased... that was when my world came crashing down. Friends of mine were injured, but my parents? The only family I was aware of? They were 2 names on a long list, but it hit me hard. While I was safe, and having fun, they were unsuspecting and killed. Guilt and pain was what I felt, and I was in no condition to talk as tears filled my eyes, cascading down my cheeks quickly.

I was too busy focussing on trying not to sob, and getting myself to stop crying, to even hear what Maria and Jordan were saying to Margret. I was too focused with the pain filled memories of losing my parents who I cherished dearly. Age 16, and an 'orphan', now living in a new province, with unknown family, and going to attend a new school. My life isn't the worst, but it isn't the greatest and the most ideal. As these thoughts, along with the events that I had undertook in the last week, went on in my head, I was being embraced by my mom's cousin, her words of sympathy and condolence numb and incoherent to me, while being lead towards their car, to be brought to the place I will now have to call 'home'.