A/N: Well, this was written for school. Our assignment was to make a 'timeline' of our lives, which would highlight our most important events, whilst creating a metaphor for ourselves. I chose to make a book. :) For the actual assignment, each part and piece were on one page; likewise, every three chapters composed another page. This is just to clarify for those who were wondering why it's a oneshot.

Also, because this is a rather...personal story, I've omitted my own name. For the sake of protecting my identity, and whatnot. ;P

(Part 1): “Turning Back the Pendulum”

“Somewhere, between the tics and the tocs, a memory forms. But the pendulum swings back, and with it, takes away whatever was made.” -- -deception

Prelude: Consonance

Once upon a time, there was a family of three. They were happy together, it seemed. Or, more accurately, they were content they were together at all.
On the snowy afternoon of November the thirtieth, a second child was born. Again, like the first, it was female.

This, dear reader, is where the clock is set in motion.

Chapter one: Start the Clock

“The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be the beginning” - Ivy Barker Priest.

“She’s cute,” they had said. “Long body, so she’ll probably be tall. Have you thought of a name yet?”
“Something simple, I guess,” the woman -- evidently, the mother -- responded. “Maybe (-name omitted-)? It’s short, and easy.”

Chapter two: Tic Toc

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” - Lao Tzu

Time passes. In the blink of an eye, 8 months are gone, and the child learns to walk. One step, two -- she falls. Picking herself up, she’s determined to try again. It’s as if she knows the necessity of it, and that she will someday run away.

Chapter three: Echoes

“You open your mouth to speak
But no one can hear you; your voice is too weak
The words on your tongue are never spoken
Someday your wisdom will have awoken” - -deception

In terms of music, the child’s voice would have been fitted with pianissimo. Almost inaudible, it had seemed; they wondered if she was a mute.
At fourteen months, she had still not uttered a word. “Why?” they ask. “Why do you remain silent?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she echoes back; echoes in which will never reached their ears. Somehow, it’s as if she knows that no one would listen anyways. Who would ever hear the youngest child out?
Her first word is in protest. “No,” she pouts. They stare at her in shocked silence.

(Part 2): “Of Lullabies and Lies”

"Truth must necessarily be stranger than fiction, for fiction is the creation of the human mind and therefore congenial to it." - G.K. Chesterton

First Movement: Dissonance

She wasn’t a fussy child; no, not really. She didn’t cry without a reason, and she went to sleep fairly easily.
Somehow, her name no longer seemed to fit.
Or, maybe it did? There was simplicity in complexity.

Chapter four: Adolescent Juvenility

“Life isn't only quick and easy fixes. Hugs and kisses won't always help, and neither will kind words.” - -deception

To her, it almost seemed like someone else was piecing the jigsaw puzzle together, and that they were using the wrong piece when they tried to fit her in. She became irritated, believing that no one cared to help her. Oh, how wrong she was.
When looking in the mirror, she didn’t see the spoiled, ungrateful child that she sees today, but rather a little girl that knew more than she let on. But how could she? Without knowing even the basic rules of the playground, she believed that she could take on the world.

Chapter five: False Deception

“Anger, tears, and sadness are only for those who have given up.” - Katie Gill

Stress never really works well with anything. Anger, sadness, depression…Anything combined with stress would lead her to tears.
So she made a resolution; she gave up crying.
By this point in time, she had already realized that nothing in the world was fair. Those who work hard don’t always get what they want, and there those who survive on luck alone. She had neither luck, nor a goal to achieve; she simply survived, living each day by ignoring the constant arguments, the constant yelling, that could be found in her house.
“In order to get by in life, you need to have thick skin,” someone had told her. She tried to believe them.

Chapter six: Muses

“When you get on stage, you can be anything. You’re removed from reality and, in a way, the real world.” - Suzanne Farrell

We all need a way to save ourselves from pain. She found hers in music, in art, in writing, and in dance. They all intertwined with each other, forming a tangled mess for her to hide in.
She could escape in music; listening as each note interlaced with the next. The staccatos, the legatos, and everything in between…And it would inspire her. It would lead her to somewhere in the back of her mind, and when she was done with whatever was created, she would stare in wonder.
The words typed on the screen -- lyrics, poems, stories, and fantasies -- how did she weave them to be so? The sculpture, the drawing, the painting -- how did that happen? The dance that would never be repeated -- the one that comes in the spur of the moment -- was that fluid enough?
She never knew the answers. It all just was.

(Part 3): “To Be Continued”

“Time changes nothing but everything.” - -deception

Second Movement: Elegy

When does one realize that time has passed? When can we look back at ourselves, and know we’ve changed?
The scars of life mark themselves upon her flesh, and she realizes just how far she’s come.

Chapter seven: Plays

“All the world is a stage, and people are just actors in this twisted play called ‘Life’” - Shakespeare

“It’s not real,” she tells herself.
“Lies,” the voices whisper back.
“It’s not real,” she repeats, and she realizes that life is like a play. You can’t really control it, because it’s all been scripted. Sure, you can change the words around all you want, but the plot will always remain constant.
Which is why death is inevitable. And now she finally knows the feeling of having something irreplaceable wrenched from before her eyes; to have something precious to her taken away.
She falls to the ground, broken, and for the first time in years, tears roll down her cheeks and fall silently to the floor beneath her.
“Life moves pretty fast. If you blink, you could miss it.” The voices held no sympathy.

Chapter eight: Diversions

“Look at it this way; the darkest hour is only sixty minutes long.” - -deception

Eventually, we all move on. We find something to distract ourselves with, something of entertainment, something of value. And though we don’t know when that time will come, surely it will. And so she faces forward, looking ahead to another three, monotonous years of education. An education that will only teach her the basis of life -- who’s in it, what’s made from it -- but never how to live it. And now she hopes that something of value will come along again; that something will make her smile.

Chapter nine: Shelter

“So long as I can breathe or I can see, So long lives your love which gives life to me” - Shakespeare

Compassion; she never thought she would need it, until the day she had it.
Love, she learned, wasn’t all butterflies in the stomach.
Family wasn’t just defined by blood. She knew that. There are bonds in this lifetime that will be left unspoken, and those are the ones that will penetrate your soul the most.
She found solace in these relationships -- they were harmonious, like a perfect cadence. And those that she met, those that she gave her heart to, are what keeps her sane.
In their arms, she found shelter.

A/N: For those who don’t know musical terms, consonance means “sounds that are pleasing to the ears”, dissonance means “notes that conflict”, and elegy means “a melancholy piece”.

I'm grateful for writing assignments in school, really; I have no time to write, otherwise...Anyways, please review, and leave some constructed criticism. I admit, this wasn't my best work. It never is, for school...xP