Chapter 03 

“In order to bring your characters to life, you need to imagine that they exist in your own reality. Speak with your characters and get to know them. Spend time with them. If you imagine them as real life human beings, your writing will change drastically. This will allow you to have a natural process of character development in your writing, while making your characters realistic to your readers.” Pandora explained retucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’ll be all for the questions and answer segment.” The moderator’s voice beamed through the auditorium. “We would like to thank Ms Warren, for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit us and conduct this session on creative writing. I am sure we’ve all learnt a lot of insightful ways to improve our writing skills.” the moderator finished. 

“Thank you for having me. It has been a wonderful experience” Pandora replied. 

Eleanor was one of the first to rush outside, running through the doors with the other students she’d once considered immature. She stood outside, heart in hand, feeling giddy. 

I met Pandora J. Warren today. Pandora Jane Warren wanted to speak with me. Pandora Jane Warren wanted to see my writing, Eleanor thought, twirling the end of her fish-tail braid around her finger, she leaned against the wall. Pandora Jane Warren said she liked my hair, Eleanor smiled to herself. 

She had been a major fan of Clifford James Warren. She grew up reading his books, and when Pandora released her first novel, Eleanor was overjoyed when she found out her favourite author Clifford Warren had a daughter. She re-watched all of his previous interviews and reread all of Clifford’s novels, thinking about his writing from a father’s perspective. Eleanor soon became a fan of Pandora, and she bought every novel Pandora released. She envied Pandora for being a successful writer. Pandora’s life was magical to Eleanor, she admired her for having been born to a famous author. Eleanor had chosen to pursue her future career as an author, because of Clifford and Pandora. Desiring to write like her, Eleanor wished to have lived the life Pandora had. Pandora was Eleanor’s paragon.  

“I can’t believe I’m sitting here with you” Eleanor muttered, her cheeks blushing shyly. 

“Why not?” Pandora asked, inching closer to Eleanor over the small coffee table in between them. 

“It’s just…you…you’re Pandora Jane Warren…and I’ve always been your biggest fan” Eleanor squeaked out, her insides twisting with glee. 

“That’s so cute” Pandora smiled, taking out the silver clip in her hair, she let it fall freely. “I think you’re extremely talented, Eleanor” her voice dripped with sultry, placing Eleanor’s notebook on the walnut-brown table. Eleanor melted at the way Pandora’s soft but husky voice embraced her name. 

She stammered “Thank you, thank you so much…You…you have no idea how much that means to me.”, her stomach filling with glee.

“Aw, it’s so endearing how my words have so much meaning to you.”, Pandora gestured for Eleanor to drink her iced mocha. 

“I wish I could be a writer like you,” Eleanor admitted, placing the plastic cup back down on the table. 

“You can be Elle.” Pandora encouraged, “you’re more than capable”

“You really think so?” Eleanor perked up on her seat  

“Of course Elle, I can help you out with it, if you want. It’s your wish, right?.” she said, brushing past a curl from Eleano’s face. 

“Uh…what do you mean?”

Sinking back into the chair, “You want to be like me, yes?” Pandora stirred up, “I can make you become a successful writer.” 

“Uh…that means a lot but I…I’m not really sure.” Eleanor hesitated. 

“You can be an author just like me, Elle. Imagine how proud you can be of yourself, when you achieve that success. I can help you meet this goal.”

Pandora leaned closer to Eleanor, “I can transform you into one of the best authors to ever exist. Like my father and I, our legacy. You can be like us, Eleanor” she offered, tempting the 17 year old.  “I can give that to you Elle.”

“I really don’t know…” she tried refusing politely. 

“I like you, Elle. I see that spark in you. And I wouldn’t just ” her matte-coated lips laced out, “It’s what you wished for. Right?”  

“Yes…I do wish that I could write like you.” 

“You can. You’re already so talented and bright. All you need is a bit of practise.” 

How naive Pandora thought, took a sip from her espresso. Her eyes scanned the teenager in front of her. Eleanor’s cheeks were sunkissed, with dazzling deer eyes and a fuller-bottom lip, she trickled with child-like purity. Adorable, she smirked. 

Pandora was captivated by Eleanor’s innocence. The teenager was naive, and that was just what she wanted. An easy target to manipulate into her new plot. The additional benefit in this was that Eleanor was captivating. They had similar interests, yet Pandora could tell that they were different. Eleanor’s childhood had shaped her into the teenager she was, just like Pandora’s had caned her into the woman she was. She couldn’t understand why the girl was so different from her, and Pandora’s curiosity nibbled at her. Struggling with her writer’s block, Pandora was desperate for some inspiration. And Pandora felt electrified, adrenaline rushing through her veins. She wanted to write again. 

That night Pandora slept well. For the first time in seven months, she wasn’t consumed by her insomnia. She wasn’t tormented by the woman she’d seen dying. Pandora floated off into her subconscious, as soon as her paper-like body had been seized by the soft comfort of the silk sheets. 

Eleanor… Pandora called in her sleep. Shooting up from the pillow her head had been resting on, Pandora was greeted by Clifford. Clifford has settled himself in her maroon arm-chair, beside her bed, reading one of Pandora’s old manuscripts. 

“Eleanor?” He questioned, keeping the stack of papers back. 

“I’m going to start writing again” Pandora changed the topic, not wanting to share the girl she’d met with him.

“That’s good” Clifford approved, ” send me the draft in two weeks”. 

“Two weeks? I’ll need more time th…” 

“Writing is all you have Pandora. You’re an author, and you haven’t published anything in over a year. You haven’t written anything in months Pandora” Clifford interrupted her. His voice roared within the ivory walls of her bedroom.

“Father…” Pandora tried, and yet she couldn’t manage to speak to him. He’s been harsh on her for as long as she could remember. And she thought she had adapted to his ways. But every time he raised his voice she’d feel herself shrink into the broken child she really was. She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t move. She was paralyzed, and she didn’t understand why. 27 years, living as his daughter, Pandora knew the animalistic man he truly was. But she shivered at his touch. Broken and naked, her mind gave out. “You’re my daughter, Pandora, so I’ve been way too lenient with you. You’re a writer for God’s sake.”, he yelled. Clifford grabbed her frail face, “You are nothing if you stop writing. You’re nothing without your writing, Pandora.” he dug his nails into the skin underneath her chin. “I made you into who you are today. The least you can do is write.” Clifford spat out, sawing his way into her mind, “if you don’t, you’ll be thrown out just like your mother.” he threatened, getting back up. “Two weeks.” He instructed. 

Clifford had gotten his way. Again. 

Carrying herself up, Pandora pulled open the heavy curtains. And with a thud she let her head hit the frosty glass of the French windows. Seven minutes. Seven minutes had gone by, with Pandora standing against the window, lifeless. 

I’m trapped. I’m trapped in a burning building. No doors to run out of. No one to save me. I’m trapped in a burning building. 

Peeling her forehead off of the glass, her hands shivered as they wiped away a tear that had escaped her hollow mannequin eyes. 

I’m fine. I’ll do my best. Pandora nodded, gliding across the room, she reached for the hair brush. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… she continued obsessively, pulling the brush through her hair. I’m fine. I’ll do my best , her heart picked up her mind’s pace. 36, 37 Pandora continued with the brushing, not releasing the strands of hair jailed within her fingers.64, 65, 66 she heaved her hair out, dropping the baby-blue brush onto the carpeted floors, followed by her puny body. I’m fine. I’ll do my best, she promised, embracing her sickly figure, Pandora nodded, I’m fine. 

Chapter 4 will be released on the 30th of July.

By Kisavi Jayawardena