Iridescent

Below is what I wrote for school before. And lo and behold, I have just posted it! :D


The topic was "Iridescent" and I fell in love with the word immediately [without knowing its exact meaning] :)


Enjoy! (or get ready a bucket to puke into)
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Iridescent

She takes interest and it stems into an obsession. The invisible spirits plant a simple idea in the depths of her mind, it was a motivation that spurred her on.

Aveline loves everything bright and colourful, especially variety bursting at its peak. Fascination streams about her in nifty strokes, capturing her attraction for the rainbow. It is iridescent, displaying a splay of wild, bold colours that blot her mind with hues of the rainbow. It streaks across her mind in a blistering fever, fuelling her addiction. She sees the world as a prism, the colours at their majestic moments, flitting around the world, painting and dabbing away at the monotony of life. 

They swish around-- lofty wishes that awaken her greed. Those voices are haunting her, running a hypnotic loop around her mind. 

Her fingers swipe across another work, crayon marks swirling into a puddle of illusion. They form lines at first, solitary, before gradually merging and exploring different lands. The lines are jagged, yet smooth, forming a spiral that never ends. She loses herself within the enthralling strokes, as they—the crooked lines-- continue mumbling hoarse incantations. They are dancing, starting out with slow and elegant steps, meant to impress upon first sight. But as the pattern forms, their steps start out sophisticated and rapid, capturing her attention. They rush out a frenzied tempo, bringing her heart into a burst of ecstasy.

The enchantment has worn off, bringing her back to the monochromatic world once more. The voices are worn-out, disappointment lacing their words. Yet their grins widen as they toy with her heartstrings, tugging mercilessly on her greed.

A murmur of appreciation falls from her lips, revealing the awe and desperation behind her words.  It forms a whirlpool of exhilaration in her mind, leaving her heart pounding, overwhelmed with desire and longing. They tempt her once more, slyly fingering her heart (they brush gently against the veins and artilleries, musing tiny circles upon them--drawing a reaction of gushing adrenaline) and showing illusions that her glazed-over eyes reflect. 

'Wouldn't it be nice if the world were iridescent? Thriving over a splay of colours?' they probe, prompting. She nodded with hesitation, gulping. They pat her head reassuringly, their beady eyes narrowing. 

Fresh red started out luscious and seductive, purring as it claimed her heart, the first shade. Following after it was yellow, cheerful and pleasing. It skipped merrily over, wrapping the heart in patterns. The mixture darkened to form orange. Vibrant and passionate, the sparks fly upon arrival of the colour before falling down as glittering dust. Green took over in moments, tranquillity smoothing out the creases of excitement caused by the previous colour.  It gingerly pressed its body against the other layers and melted into the mixture as well. Brown sizzled over the edges of the canvas, creeping towards the centre of the art piece. 

Her plan is executed, drawing her breath away. They chuckle at her innocence, awaiting for the grand finale.

The world is nothing but blobs of colours, jumbled together and moulded together. The lines have given way, taken flight. They arch and push, stretching to the limits before finally breaking apart into atoms, drifting in the air, waiting. But that is only the set-up to the climax. Aveline grips onto her desire, faintly chuckling at how her wishes are coming true. Iridescent, the world will become, displaying a nebula eruption, staining the silk of reality with its dye. The colours are fusing, crossing boundaries and blending together. Aveline giggles and shivers with anticipation. 

Another work of art is in progress, unknown to her. Their eyes glint mischievously and their lips, rotting and rancid, curl up in a smirk. 

Pink daintily lands on the paper, grasping onto purple for support. As its older sister nods in encouragement, pink sighs and merges with the other colours. Purple, in its splendour, trickles away bit by bit, splashing silently into the intricate artwork. The two additions darken the coat's colour. Elegant midnight blue stalks upon the painting. It blows gently onto the surface, delighting in the rough and sandy feel of the canvas upon her silky fingers. It sinks into the rotting moor, what with the many decaying souls of its family. 

She should have known. 'Be careful of what you wish for', they sing mockingly, amused at how easily enchanted she was.

Aveline gasps at the horrifying sight. The putrid concoction of the pigments has corrupted the entire world. The black tugs at her shirt, begging and tugging. They smirk upon their lies, coated with agony, pressing against her body. Their fingers, cold and slimy, run up and down her. She shrieks and cowers, covering her face with her hands-- this has never occurred to her.  They coo in hungry and irritated voices, demanding for more additions. Their hunger is insatiable, but there is another horrible ripping. The ink is leaking from her heart, they claw and gnaw at her ribs, every bone they can find. Internal destruction. 

They haunt the last of her memories. 'Didn't you ask for this?' they question, their eyes burning in delight and mock-hurt, relishing at her horror.

The fusion of the colours turned out black. Ironic. Now they are corrupted, sinful and warped. They drip into another world of red and white. Unsatisfied, twisted thoughts blanket them. Gluttons they are, washing over every area and tainting it black. Now, at last, the jigsaw puzzle is complete and the world can rest in total darkness, utter silence. 

Aveline is lost to the real world forever.

The devils sneer and snort at her. It was the simple fascination of the rainbow, yet they fiddled with her mind, tainting each thought dark and twisting it into a warped world of delusion. Poor girl, she never did deserve this, yet she was happy, relishing in her own iridescent mirage then. They licked at every shriek of despair and cheerfully watched her bright vision fade and blackout. The nightmares she gave them were remarkable and appealing. All they did was to give her a little push, plant that seed in her innocent mind and she took it upon herself to develop it, nurture that seed.
Her entertaining actions (for she was a mere plaything) proved noteworthy and it satisfied their hunger for more pain, torture-- for now. Yet it also brought things to a new height as they glide about in the air, far high above, searching for another curious mind to explore and experiment.