by Brian Botdorf

Created on: February 23, 2010

Pg 1 Nostalgic Savior

Dazed by a “sea” of reporters, a wave of questions crashed her senses like the shore lines of an ocean she grew up around as a child. Her senses seemed amplified by a combination of wine and drugs as the reporters camera flashes triggered a memory of a fireworks finale that she watched on that same shore line. Nostalgic memories of her childhood seemed to be the only escape from the empty world of materialism and fame that she worked so hard to create. A world that her Step mother had made her work so hard to create. Remembering the long sumer days when the world seemed so exciting, that first true love, the optimism, the lack of responsibility were her only escape. Her only way to feel apart from the numbness that had become her life. The fireworks display was so clear in her mind. A memory that was so vivid, so exciting and so emotionally intense that the beauty of it all would become etched in a her memory like the paintings on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. That summer night played out so clearly in her mind her, like it did so many times in her life when she felt empty and void of true meaning or purpose in her life. Watching the fireworks display as a child along the beach was such a pivotal moment in her life and would change her life forever.

That night at the fireworks was one of the few great memories she had as a child. She was fourteen, long beautiful chestnut brown hair, almond colored eyes and sunburned skin from the long lazy summer days at the ocean. She was skinny a bit awkward and had a smile that only could only radiate from a child with so much love and optimism for life. For a moment, that 4th of July night memory seemed to mesh with the reality of where she was standing. Fading from the press conference in her mind, she felt as if she were standing on the beach again. She could still feel a light breeze blowing in from the ocean as the stars in the sky seemed to glitter. The smell of the ocean, the sound of the waves and the soft warm feeling of the sand sinking between her toes. It all seemed so perfect, like a beautifully staged play or movie that she acted in so many times over the years. A memory that she used as inspiration for her dramatical roles. Being able to “tap” into those intense feelings of love and pain she had experienced in her younger years would win her the Oscar. She saw his face so clearly in in her mind as the reporters at the press conference started to fade. He was the one true love of her life. The one person that truly understood her and she would cherish the memory of that night they met forever.

“Mrs. Gellar”a reporter yelled, shaking her from her drug induced stupor. “How does it feel to win the Oscar?” Trying to focus on the reporter, she answered in a monotone voice, as her step mother glared at her from the back of the room. “I want to thank everyone that made this possible.”, she said trying to hold back the nauseous feeling's she was having.

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