This short story fills the GAP in Persepolis PDF

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Summary

A creative write up about filling the gap in Persepolis. Creative writing...

Description

This short story fills the ‘gap’ in the film where Marji finds out that Uncle Anoosh has been killed. It is between the visit to the prison and the appearance of God.

The Swans and the Last Prophet 2 simple breadcrumb swans. An uncle and a niece. A tiny, priceless memento. Who knew?

“Marji, can you please come here”?

Down the hallway, a small girl’s reminisces were interrupted. Marji had been thinking of Uncle Anoosh. She shuddered at the memory of his prison cell and the bleakness of the confines of the tiny room. Her nostrils flared as she remembered the smell – stale with a hint of something else, something not worth thinking about. But it would be Marji’s walk along the dimly lit, eerily quiet corridor that would stay with her for a long time.

It would only be much later that she would realise the responsibility, and the honour, of being his sole visitor.

Again the call from her father, “Marji, come please!”

Lost in her thoughts and sadness Marji missed the tone in her father's voice.

Her feet hit the floor with a dull thud, and she made her way to the living room, just as her father began the third call to his daughter, “Come...”

“Yes, papa. What is it?”

For the first time in what seemed like ages Marji noticed things. Her mother’s eyes, tears glistening.

Her father’s eyes, blazing. Her father’s face, pale and drawn.

“Marji, come here.” She did as she was told. He knelt in front of his daughter and visibly took a deep breath. Eye to eye with her father, Marji waited.

“My girl…” his voice cracked and Marji’s heartbeat a little quicker.

He started again, “My girl, Uncle Anoosh is gone. He’s dead.”

“What? NO papa!!” “Yes darling. I’m so sorry”. Marji felt the familiar fold of his arms surround her and the

(show not tell) (edge of her lips felt to tingle) (sweat started to spill…) grief that was threatening to unleash itself.

Her tears broke like the wall of a dam bursting (rewrite this one, it’s a cliche). And her tears joined the tears and heartbreak of thousands of others who had lost. Lost because of cruelty and misplaced righteousness. The grief broke and something else cracked as well.

(melo-dramtic, it’s too over the top) The family wept and wept. Their grief, pain and outrage filled their apartment seeping into every fibre of their place. It would leave an indelible mark on the space for many years.

(melodramatic again, reword it) (they have been quite accustomed to death in the regime, maybe that’s why they didnt cry) When the tears dried, Marji’s father lifted her up and carried her back to her room, and laid her on the small bed.

It was a heartbreaking sight (telling not showing again, just delete this bit and start it again)– a little, dark haired girl curled into a ball with 2 white swans sitting on the bed beside her.

As her father turned to leave the room, her little voice came to him from the gloom. “Why papa?” “Marji, I could live a thousand years and not understand man’s cruelty. I don’t understand the need to kill because of a difference in ideas. What would the world be without thoughts and exploring different ways to live? I ask, where did Iran go?” He paused. “But know my petal, Anoosh loved you and his memory will in live our collective memories for all time.” (the suffering Marji goes through isnt the crux of the book, so try to go over the broader stuff)

Marji closed her eyes, thoughts and feelings running through her mind and heart. She thought of the things her father had said. Nothing in her young life had prepared her for this and she had never felt the immensity of grief. Grief like a weight on her chest and soul.

(change this, we’re labouring the point of ‘grief’ too much) SWAN :(we could say that looking at the conditions of Anoosh The swans, the lessons, the ideas, the love, the prison and the dance, all Uncle Anoosh. All gone.

She didn’t understand – why did they hate him? Why did he die? Why did God let this happen? The cracks that began at the news of his death widened slightly.

The voice came from behind her, as it often did. “What’s wrong my child? Don’t be sad.” (don't be sad isn't included) “Shut up, you! They killed him and you did nothing.” “I’ve nothing to do with it.” “Shut up. I never want to see you again. Go away! Go away!”

How could he say that? “I’ve nothing to do with it.” Of course he did, God could have saved him. Her little mind ran riot – she was too young to understand free will and man’s ability to

use God’s word for his own gain. (talk

more about the religious side of

it) She could hear the muffled voices of her parents as they talked and tried to rationalise Anoosh’s death and how they might need to protect themselves. She heard her name mentioned but exhaustion prevented her from registering it too fully.

POINTS : TAKE MORE OF THE GRIEFING PART OUT, TALK MORE ABOUT RELIGION (maybe the part about when she sees god for the last time) She didn’t want to think anymore. She didn’t want it to hurt anymore. But she wanted to be angry. Angry at God. Angry at the men who killed him. Angry at Anoosh. He had been so briefly in her life and then he had left. Tears, a mixture of sadness and rage, fell silently from her eyes as she stared at the swans beside her. She wanted to break them. Crush them in her tiny fists but she couldn’t. She felt heavy and as her eyes closed her thoughts were simple,

SHE LOST HER FAITH DUE TO THIS CYNICISM, MAYBE SHE’S BECOMING MORE MATURE AND MORE AWARE) “No more”. (

And just like that her dreams of being the last prophet cracked completely and shattered....