Everyone gets their first time.
Everyone gets their first time. Everyone should, to the very least, get them.
“I can’t. I don’t know where to start. I’m uninspired.”
Don’t even think about it. It’s all about getting started or, in the case of little cameron: being seized, commanded, trusted in and waited for.
So here’s little cameron’s firsts story, freshly brewed out of the café and hopefully, the first of a long series.
Cameron’s first time
Letting out an exasperated grunt, Cameron allowed his forehead to fall onto his laptop, making a loud thunk. He had been trying for five days now to write a short story for Tina at her request. No, her demand. The ideas just weren’t coming. He had wanted to put together a piece of writing for years, however he had never done so. Sure, there were attempts, but he never posted anything, or shared it with anyone. The only thing he had ever done was a few chapters on interactive stories online. That wasn’t the same though. He just didn’t have the confidence in his writing. It was never his strong suit. Seeing all the quality stories posted around only reinforced those negative beliefs inside of him. He always had ideas, sure. But trying to actually flesh out those ideas into full creations was just a challenge he never seemed prepared for. Better to perhaps commision such plans, so they were done justice.
Still, that burning desire to create something of his own was there. Trying to sit down and actually put it into words was difficult, but it was there. Which is perhaps why it made him so doubtful, and stressed. Groaning once more, Cameron closed his eyes, his head still down on his computer. He was shaken from his thoughts by a loud boom in the distance. Focusing, trying to figure out what the sound was, he heard it repeat, getting louder each time, until eventually, his walls and floor began to shake. Nervous, Cameron lifted his head back up, but the sounds and shaking had stopped. Confused, Cameron looked to the right outside his bedroom window, and jumped, nearly toppling over in his chair. Sitting on the street just in front of his house was a gigantic woman, flowing hair waving slightly in the wind, dressed in a casual gown, and barefoot. Stunned, Cameron rubbed his eyes and pinched himself, trying to get rid of what was surely an illusion. But there the giantess remain. She looked to be somewhere around 300 feet tall. Even sitting down, she towered over his house and the surrounding neighborhood.
“I demanded a story”
The booming voice slightly rattled the windows of Cameron’s house, but while it was loud, it was just enough to be mildly uncomfortable, not damaging to him. Still, the unexpected nature of the speech caused him to wince briefly, and Cameron stared out the window, his mouth agape.
“Tina?” he exclaimed, and incredulous look spreading across his face.
“Yes” Tina said, a slightly mischevious smile spreading across her gigantic lips. “I allowed you three days to write me a story. It’s been five. I’ve come to collect.”
His heart pounding in his chest, Cameron took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. This was impossible, this couldn’t be happening.
“This. . . this can’t be real,” He stammered, “I must have fallen asleep at my computer. This has to be a dream.”
“Perhaps.” Tina replied, giggling softly to herself, “In this very moment, does it feel real?”
Leaning towards the house, her colossal body approaching at an alarming rate, Tina stopped with her mouth just in front of the open bedroom window. Cameron could see how soft and plush her gigantic lips were, and while he was lost in looking at them, Tina gently blew into the window, the gust knocking him over. As he hit the floor, the room filled with the scent of her breath. Not a bad smell, but not a great one either. Exactly what normal breath would smell like. But it filled the entire room to an almost oppressive degree. Tina sat back again laughing gently to herself.
“Whether you consider this a dream or not I leave to your little heart… you’re still mine to play with.” Tina whispered softly.
“And what do you want?” replied Cameron, his body shaking as he sat back up properly.
“A story. Your story.”
“How could my story possibly compare to what you’ve seen, or give you any satisfaction,” Cameron inquired.
“It doesn’t have to be good: Write it.” Tina replied, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
“I don’t know what to write though Tina,” protested Cameron, before being cut off by Tina’s gigantic finger tapping the ground, causing the entire block to shake, and cracks to form on the street around her.
“Enough,” Tina said, almost in a growl, “You’re going to sing your song and create”.
“Like, right now?” Cameron gulped.
“Yes,” Tina commanded, “I’ll be waiting here, a hand on your house and for every passing minute of hesitation, gradually clench my fingers on your walls. Rise to the occasion, to the added pressure, and I will take your story.”
“Then what happens Tina?” Cameron asked apprehensively.
“I may leave,” smirked Tina, “I may take your story and share it with the world, since you’re too afraid to put yourself out there. You and your story will be mine… Now write.”
Composing himself, Cameron sat himself back at his computer, trying to focus on the machine, and not the beautiful goddess watching his every move, and he reached his fingers down, grazing the tops of the keys, thinking about how to begin.
“Create and become yourself, little one.” echoed the voice through his room.
And his fingers began to race along the keyboard.