GRETELLE MARION - D.6 - FINISHED

Name :: Gretelle Eva Marion
Age :: 16
Gender :: Female
District :: Six

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APPEARANCE

How do you know what perfection is? Is it the feeling of being on top of the world or the idea that you are above all else? I have never known the answer to it; my parents told me that I was perfect. And yet, I have no idea what they meant by it, were they secretly insulting me?

"Gretelle, aren't you the most perfect child, your beautiful eyes and lovely personality." Even the rich men and woman that sometimes visited our house would gawk at me as though I were a small child. I always got the word 'cute' and 'absolutely adorable'. Maybe perfection is being three years old, I wouldn't know.

When I was three, I had tufts of brown hair that protruded from my scalp, at least that's what they tell me. Mum doesn't ever call me 'cute' when she describes me as a baby, I suppose I wasn't the most appealing looking thing. I have the same grey eyes as I did then, the older woman call them dull and lifeless, I'm not really sure how to describe them. When I look in the mirror though, the shining metal lets me see an image of a girl. She has dark brown hair, so dark its almost black. Her pale fingers have bones showing through the pale skin that lays there so gently. I look fragile, even in the mirror sometimes I'm afraid to move out of fear of what may happen.

So I hide in the corners and wait, my knobby knees tucked up to my chest in a fetal position. I can hear the time passing, whenever I stare away from the mirror or the thoughts of perfection, I come back to time.

In school, at a young age, the teacher was explaining to us about how to read a clock. "This hand is for the hour, and this for the minutes." she explained, I remember her voice, it was soft like honey. As she turned on the clock to show us how it worked, I remember feeling something stir inside of me, fear welling up, and at the time I had no idea what was happening to me.

I don't recall anything after that sudden fear, they told my parents that I was screaming and needed to be carried out. I have learned to control myself better, I have taught myself how to block out the noise in my head. tick-tock-tick-tock. That's all I hear whenever I take my fingers out of my small ears to try and reunite once again with the world around me.

The attempts always fail and I am left in the dust. Once again.

"Tell me Gretelle, what do you see?"

I don't see a thing, just the noises come in through my ears. They take over my brain and everything stops working, I don't kn....

"I mean, are there any shapes or pictures you see."

No, sir. I don't see a thing.

"What do you hear then?"

A clock, the sound of a clock.

"What sound exactly, dear?"

The tick-tock sound. That's what I hear, it gets into my head and shuts me down faster than anything. Its haunted me since I was young.

"Its okay Gretelle,"

...

"Okay, so what do you think could help?"

I don't know.

"We could give you medication, It would be expensive though."

I don't want artificial Capitol remedies to get into my brain as well, sir.

"There's another way then, I guess."

Yes?

"You have to listen to me dear, the other way to heal you is to trick your brain out of what it has mixed itself in, you have to do so many exercises a day so that you can start reliving your life again. Its that or the medication."

So what exactly do I have to do to trick myself, doctor.

"Tell yourself the truth, do you really hear these sounds in your head?"

Yes, I do sir.

"You won't listen to me Gretelle, you are suffering so much and still you insist on being so stubborn. Please, there is nothing there, its all in your mind."

Its all in your mind, sir. I'm sorry, if what you said is the only way to help then I don't want it. I don't want to have to lie to myself when I know that the truth is what I'm trying to tell myself is a lie. Its like telling yourself that you don't have a house when you can look around yourself and see that your standing in one, your house. Its similar to that sir, I'm sorry for wasting your time. I'm sorry you can't understand.

"Good bye then Gretelle, enjoy the rest of your days, sweetheart."

I will sir, goodbye.

Perfection is a term used so loosely, it can be pulled apart by one misconception or thought. Some think that being perfect is a

state of mind, others see it as how you look. I don't see it either of the ways, I see perfection as everyone, how you and and always were. Everyone is perfect, everyone except those to affiliate with the clocks. Time should disappear forever, it would be better that way I suppose.

I tried to make time stop once, I can't say that I was successful though. I only manged to get many pieces of glass embedded in my little fist and a smashed grandfather's clock. Mum wasn't too happy about it either, it was one given to her by her grandmother. At first I felt sorry for her though I'm pretty sure that the tears were mostly coming the pain as the delicate woman pulled the pieces of glass from my skin. I remember the smell of blood in the air and the pain that laced it's way up my arm every time another shard would be removed from my knuckles.

The only benefit about the thing, it took away the clock. Mum was mad but one ticking sound had lessened in my mind, I was able to be at peace for a couple days. Even though it wasn't much, I was still able to feel comfort, I had destroyed mission control and everything else shuts down. Nothing stays dead for long though, only days later the sounds resumed and I turned back into the silent little girl that hid in secluded spaces as she tried to rid her head of the imperfections that resided in there.

I used to hold my small hands over my ears as I shut my eyes, no sound would enter my head, only my thoughts would tell me what to do, what to say. Nothing more, I would breath and live as a half-being, not being in the world but still being a figure in the shadows. Once when I was six years old I sat this way for an entire day. Mum began to search for me, it was before my fear had grown to its heights and taken over me entirely.

"Gretelle, where are you you foolish girl," I remember hearing just the fringes of the words back at that time. I wouldn't come out there to see her and her army of time, it was always on her side. Time passed and there was nothing to do about it, many attempts to make it stop have only resulted in failure and anger. I have learned by know that time depends on nothing,time is a being of its own.

I don't know if it will ever come to the realization that it needs to be stopped. If there will ever be a person to find away to end each second though, I'm sure it will be me. I will find a way and eventually my head will be filled with the sound of silence.

Only then will my fears seize to exist.