Exist For This by Abby Allard (Exclusive)
Abby Allard is a 20 year old college student residing in a small town in Connecticut. As a keen writer with an abundance of imagination but a habit of leaving things unfinished, Allard turned to instagram to channel her creative energy. We are lucky enough to publish an exclusive story written just for The Jotter.
One of the major appeals of Allard's writing is the idea that most of it remains unknown. Her account, @ilived16, gives you a slice of larger plots that let the reader, in Abby's own words, "create the rest of the story for themselves." Accompanying the compact 500-word portion is a picture of her protagonist's eye. Be it covered in thick chocolate and marshmallow dribbles or dusted in a bruised purple, Allard commits to her character and understands the enticement of the partially concealed. We are given pieces of a larger world and we can't help but crave more.
Exist For This
It was in then, as the music came booming out of the amplifiers and the scent of alcohol and herbs floated in the air of the festival around her, Claire felt herself let go of everything that she had once been. Here, among thousands of people she never had been so content with being alone and in herself.
Her failed college graduation and family fortune was over 60,000 miles away and the idea of going back had been forever pushed from her mind. In the trunk of her car there was a suitcase, a paint set with her previous work and a few other things she had stolen from her room back home, that was all she needed and all she truly knew she was. It had been weeks since she had spoken to her mother after everything had been found out and the woman Claire had believed herself to be was in fact, a lie.
Then the girl Claire had met in the local diner yesterday, the one who had convinced her to come to this music festival, turned to her and yelled above the music: “Are you sure you don’t want any of this, hun!?” and she held out a bottle stuffed in a paper bag to Claire.
“N…” Claire began to say, but a bass drop took her breath away and changed her mind, she took the bag, “actually, I will.” And tipped the bottle back.
“Hell yeah!!” diner girl howled, and the people around them, all clad in colors and glitter and flowing clothes cheered with her. “I know you had it in you East Coast!”
After downing the rest of the bottle Claire steadied herself and looked around, people were moving with the music as if it was a new religion speaking to each of their souls. The ground was wet from last night’s storm and the trees were still dusted in water droplets that made the afternoon summer sun shining through them look like thousands of diamonds surrounding the grounds.
Night was approaching fast and Claire wanted her camera to photograph the revelries ahead, but as she turned to head toward her car, slipped in the mud underneath her converse. Just before she hit the ground a hand caught her arm and saved her from the muck below.
“Whoa! You alright???” the man attached to the hand asked her as her pulled her up, slipping a bit himself.
“Yeah. I was going to go get my camera and tripped I guess.” Claire said as she smoothed her bohemian crop top and dabbed at the makeup diner girl had decorated her eyes with before they came.
When Claire looked up she smiled to see Jacob standing in front of her, the guy that had saved her from the raunchy bar rat the other night, except now his hair was out of its pony tail and danced around his shoulders, he looked relaxed amongst the other festival goers.
“Want to walk me to my car?” Claire asked and began walking toward the camp.
“Sure.” Jacob laughed and followed after her.
