Photography Museum

Chapter 1

Good morning journal.
This is my 747,379,371st diary entry and today is the 8th of December in my 867th year here. Since it is almost my 868th year on earth I'd like to list all the wonderful things that had happened in my year.

•I managed to dissolve from my acting career, the excuse I used was poisoning. I pretty proud of that one actually.

•I met a new friend Charlie. He's very nice and he has a pet bird. His photo hangs in the second corridor on the eighth underground room.

•New year, new tasks.

I don't know what to do next year. I've been an actor too many times and I can't go again. It's exhausting and many people keep think that I look like Raspberry, my old actress. Maybe I should stay low, maybe write a book. I'm not sure what to do this time journal. Please help.

-Ari

Ariel huffed and lightly closed her leather journal and leaned back in her chair. The thought of going to sleep made Ariel exhausted and her eyes lowered. The tangy scent of the candle burning filled her mouth and nose with the smell of oranges. She heard the candles burning, the wax sizzling slightly to fill the dark silence, accompanied by chirping birds and noisy cicadas.

The room she was at the tip of her mansion, the highest room in the whole house. The room didn't have any lights and the only light given was from the fifteen large burning candles scattered around the rooms walls. The whole floor was pilled with books and old journals, papers with unreadable writing from the World Wars, and smashed photo frames.

Ariel thought of sleeping in her wooden chair for the night, yet the painful splinters slicing into her neck and the pain in her back from sitting in the uncomfortable position for a while made her think differently. She opened her eyes and looked around lazily at the burning candles.

After she blew them out, she plopped down stairs to her room in her panda onesie and glasses crooked. She swiftly tied up her grey hair in a ponytail and didn't think twice about collapsing onto the bed. Her thoughts plagued her mind about tomorrow until she fell asleep and her breath slowed rhythmically.

•••

Brazil opened her eyes, blinking the exhaustion out of them and rolled over to check her phone. It was four thirty two in the morning, the phones brightness blaring into Brazil's eyes, making her blink uncontrollably again to get used to the sudden brightness. She had done this too many times, go to sleep late and then wake up at an unreasonable early hour yet there was nothing to do about it.

She turned off her phone and got up, slipping into her fluffy flip flops and walked to the entrance to her home. She was moving tomorrow and the worst thing was that she had only got two hours of sleep, which meant she'd have to pack up what little she had while acting like a walking corpse.

Her art pad was at the font door for emergencies, and that time was just the time. She grabbed it and the spare pencil next to it and ran out the door to her secret hiding spot.

Brazil raced to the top of Gorgia's hill and plopped down into the grass, legs crossed and the book on her lap. She brushed her wavy brown hair out of her mouth, leaning onto the grass with her hands, looking up to see the stars as bright as ever. The whites and blues blended easily and she could see the lone plane float across the sky. The birch tree next to her blocked half her vision of the sky but she didn't mind. She was leaving tomorrow and the tree was her favourite part of her time staying there, yet destiny calls in Frostinown.

Brazil sighed, looking down at her empty page where the pencil was tapped against. Maybe drawing wasn't a good idea for now since she couldn't think straight.

Brazil looked back up at the sky, the clouds looked like watercolour against the navy sky, she later down. Her back to the grass and her legs bent. She reached one of her brown hands to the sky, hoping that she could grab a burning star that'll burst her into flames, setting her aflame to a nonexistent place. She wanted to melt into the grass and just pretend to not exist, just to have a break.

Brazil knew that it wouldn't happen, she wouldn't be able to evaporate into thin air and become the clouds, but she'd dream to do so. The thought of leaving just for a break, not to fully die or anything, just for a break to come back completely new and fresh.

Brazil checked her phone for the time. Five fifty four. A wave of worry crashes into her thoughts like a cyclone as she hurried and swiftly grabbed her things and ran home.

•••

Hey guys! Small introduction, just to let you know the characters. I'll write larger chapters soon so you won't be stuck with smaller, easier chapters.

Have a great day!