Writing Excerise - The Drawer

You (or a character you are writing about) open a drawer. It is not your drawer, but someone else's, perhaps a stranger's, perhaps your dead grandmother’s, perhaps your lover’s.  Inside you find...

It opened with one final heave and something dropped to the floor.  A small slither of wood had been jammed into the furniture to give the impression of a stuck drawer.  Mina placed the wood on top of the chest and took her first look inside the mysterious compartment to see a lone object waiting her.  She lifted the silver masquerade mask and examined it in the light. Her breath caught as she watched it change colours as she turned it around in her hands.  There was no strap or means of holding it onto someone’s eyes and a thorough exploration of the drawer confirmed to Mina that this was the only object kept there. 

Although she hated the thought, Mina had believed the answer to her sister’s strange behaviour of late would be solved by spying through her belongings. But now more troubling questions present themselves – what is this mask and why is it being kept a secret?

Mina walked over to the mirror and brought the mask up to her face. A blinding burst of light tore through her and she fell back onto the bed.  Her mind was sent in a thousand different directions and convulsions threatened to rip her apart from beginning to end.  Seconds were days and Mina eventually found herself lying still, soaked in sweat, with a heart that felt fit to burst. 

She tried to calm her breathing and concentrate on what just happened.  Was it an explosion?  The gas company had been working in the area that week but there was no scent to suggest that was the cause.  She guessed she had been on the bed for at least five minutes and there were no sirens to be heard, unlike her breathing which echoed in her ears. 

Remembering the pain the light brought to her, Mina slowly opened her eyes and continued to lay there, staring up at the ceiling.  Feeling her strength slowly return to her, she sat up and looked in the mirror.  It was only now that she noticed the mask was still on her face.  Somehow it had stayed fixed in position through the violent thrashings and again as she sat up.  But that was not what made her cold inside.  The reflection had a green glow around it that shimmered and pulsed with her heartbeat. 

Now afraid a kind of atomic explosion had turned her radioactive, Mina made herself be sensible and think of what she was seeing.  Thoughts churned through her head, competing for her concentration. The mask; her sister; her sister’s studies into the human chakra… And then it hit her.  She was looking at her own aura.