May Vines 'May': A Narrative Fiction

She rose carefully, so not to wake her siblings. Their ears were like rats, small and all hearing. She held the sacred novel close to her body, as if hoping it would sink into her chest and become part of her. Slowly and carefully she navigated through the maze of beds until she reached the freedom of the opening between the walls. She stood over the staircase, she hated stairs almost as much as she hated walking, often betrayed by her feet. She prefered the sensation of floating. She was afraid if anyone discovered her superpower they might convince her it was purely allusion. Of course she is aware that it is an allusion, I am too, but we choose to believe it's real.
“May”, she whispered to herself. “ May Vines, September 2, 1989,from …show more content…
Everyone here was a blurry cheap cocktail with flavors too numerous to count, blended into a beautifully terrifying gray. They couldn't let her remember her that, that's what nearly killed the country, the lack of gray. Her siblings are not hers. She shared more in common with the books that lay inanimate in front of her. She loved her siblings and her parents, but that was the full extent of their relationship. At the moment of her birth she was ripped from the arms of her “real” mother and simultaneously placed into those of her parents while another child was being placed into May’s mother's …show more content…
On my seventeenth birthday they would run away and escape to his home country where they were free from the four letters society's sins had trapped them in.
“When we have children. They will know who they are and where they come from and we will die old knowing that we'll live forever”, David explained. He loved metaphors, riddles, contradictions and words in general. He was a writer.
This idea made May uncomfortable, though she did love him, they both knew his country was likely to have been destroyed in the war along with his philosophies.
“I know what you're thinking”, He interrupted her thoughts “Your whole life has been assembled like a cheap piece of furniture but I want a tree with roots that reach back to the beginning of time. Don't you want that?” He turned from her, frustrated by the reluctance in her eyes.
“I do, but we both know why things are the way they are. Do you want things to be like they are in this book? History divides people, differences divide people.” She said, desperately trying to convince herself.
“No, people divide people”,he exclaimed with grave ferocity.
She was jealous of him, he was putridly passionate. He grabbed her hand sensing this, they did not speak about it anymore they just