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#46 nina.csi

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Posted 25 February 2007 - 01:38 PM

Title: Details
Genre: Romance/Drama


Details


I loved it since the very beginning.

We met at a party. Actually, my friend Diana’s 21st birthday party. He was friends with Diana’s boyfriend, and the second I saw him… well, some people call that love at first sight.

Of course he wasn’t perfect, the kind of boyfriend girls dream on having. You know; the kind of guy who sends you roses everyday, and tells you he loves you every ten seconds. But he was perfect FOR ME.

While I danced, he moved closer – and he whispered in my ear, no, not that I was so hot, but that I was beautiful. Lucky me, huh? We danced the whole night. And a tiny part of the morning, too. He got my phone, but I didn’t think he’d call – come on, I was 21 and he was 25, do you really think he’d want to commit? But he did. To my surprise, he called the next day, and the day after that one.

And we went out, on a date.

He took me to a bar, where there was a dance floor in case we wanted to dance, but we could also sit, have a drink and talk. Not many guys at that age like talking; let me tell you. I’ve had some bad experiences with guys who just wanted to get in my pants before, and after they got what they wanted, I’d never see them again.

Which is weird, considering I live in a small town and all. Not what you’d call tiny, but compared to New York, London, and other big towns, it was pathetic.

As we sat there, savoring our delicious orders – him, vodka; me, Cosmopolitan –, I started to realize I wasn’t wrong on my first impression about him. He really WAS sweet, and gentle, and he talked about himself, too, unlike most guys I had dated. He wasn’t closed; he let me in his life as naturally as he’d breathe, or something. It just seemed RIGHT.

I don’t know if you know what I mean by that, but if you don’t; girl, you don’t know what you’re missing.

I watched the half-full (something that I’d see before as half-empty) vodka glass on its way to David’s mouth – by the way, his name was David –, and my gaze went to his lips. They seemed so soft, like if I kissed them, they’d match mine perfectly.

And I didn’t even realize it; when I saw, my head was really close to his, and he was looking at my lips too, and then your lips met. And I was right. Perfect harmony.

We took things slowly, though the sexual tension between us was obvious. Most of the time we were together – which meant a lot of time, since we started going out at least twice a week, after work –, I just wanted to rip his clothes off.

He was so undeniably sexy, with those brown eyes that were so deep, the black hair that often fell on his face – fact that made Diana nickname him Emo Dude, not that I cared – and that “hold me” expression on his face all the time.

He was made for him, and I was made for him.

I don’t really care if that sounded as cliché as “it seemed like we’ve known each other our whole lives”. You won’t get it until you go through it. But you will someday, don’t worry. I always thought I’d never meet true love, and now, here he was: My true love, standing right in front of me (not literally, though), but there was a tiny detail. I’ll tell you about it later – or better yet, you’ll find out by yourself.

*

David showed me stuff about myself I didn’t know even existed. He always kept insisting I was so beautiful, and all, whispering “Bella, believe me…” on my ear, but I never actually bought it. I had mirrors at home, you know. I was an average girl – blondish (almost natural) hair, which some days decided to look browner; normal-colored skin, with some flaws (who doesn’t have them?); hazel eyes (which were the thing I liked most about myself, by the way).

But as he tried so hard to show me, I saw it. I realized no one is really THAT bad, except for Hitler. No one is perfect. There are just people who are perfect for each other. Like Jesse and Suze, from a book I read a few time ago.

He could’ve been with someone way better than me.

And whose job wasn’t so intruding on her personal life as mine was. I had stopped college for a year, when I decided to take some time off to “get to know the world”, you know. Lots of people have that phase on about the same age as mine.

And I decided to get a job as a waitress, to pay for my bills while I figured what to do next. This job, as I found out some time after I took it, often got me called to work on night shifts, thought I told the manager I’d like (with a very strong voice) to remain working only during the days.

But David didn’t mind. Which made me think, for a few days, that he had a lover – how could he not?

But of course he didn’t, and I was just being paranoid. David was the best man I had ever met, and will ever meet in the future.

But then when HIS job starting taking too much of his personal life time (he had a real job, as a hotel manager at the Dragonfly Inn – I know, it doesn’t sound very masculine, but it’s not like HE named it or anything…), I got a little upset. Selfish Isabella M. didn’t like her boyfriend to take night shifts, when they had a lot of guests.

Selfish Isabella M. demanded a lot of attention.

I know. I was SO wrong. I had never been that kind of girl, you know? The “look at me, RIGHT NOW!” kind of girl. The kind of girl who is not secure her boyfriend will not leave her to hook up with some hotter chick he met on his workplace.

All of DAVID’s workmates were ugly, at least.

I didn’t know how much pressure I was putting on him until the day when we were at my place, he had just had a long exhausting day at work, and was telling me about this 20-something girl who kept complaining about everything on the hotel, and I asked him, meanly: “Was she pretty, David?”

I don’t know what came over me. I really, really don’t. I just heard the words coming out of my mouth, and gasped.

“Oh my God. I’m sorry,” I told him, horrified. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

I know what shrinks say about things you say without thinking – they’re what you really wanted to say, because they are what’s going through your mind, and you MUST speak your mind and demonstrate your emotions always, as long as they’re not offending / hurting someone else.

But I’d rather keep my mouth shut and my emotions inside of my head than see David’s reaction to what I had just said.

David looked at me in shock and said: “My God. I thought you were not that kind of girl. You really got me, Bella.”

And then he left. I DID try to stop him, but you don’t understand. You weren’t there.

It took me a few hours to really get what I had just done. I’d ruined the best relationship ever to be lived by anyone, I had broken my heart, but most of all – I had disappointed, hurt, and let David down.

David, the only one who had ever actually cared about me.

David, the sweetest guy ever.

David, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, especially by someone like me, who didn’t even deserve him in the first place – he was so much better than me, no matter what he said.

I went after him the next day, since I had made Diana called my boss saying I was sick, and I went straight to the Inn. I knew he’d be there, he wouldn’t miss work.

I was right. After all, as much as a *%^## as I had been yesterday, I knew him. He was the guy for me.

Sad, I know.

He stared at me, as if he thought I wasn’t going to go after him. I walked straight to him – it was about one PM, his boss was having lunch until 13:30PM on her house.

“David,” I said, leaning on the balcony. “I’m really, really sorry. Can we talk this out? You have no guests right now…”

Even with my best outfit, I didn’t feel confident at all. Maybe it was the fact that those jeans were a bit too tight, or maybe it was the fact that, oh, I know, he left last night really upset from my house.

“Bella,” he replied, coming on my direction and leading me to a private place – all of his workmates were looking at us curious. He stopped on a corner and looked into my eyes. “What is it?”

“I…” I started, unsure of what to say now that he was right in front of me. I had, of course, planned a speech, but my mind was suddenly as blank as an A4 paper. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I said that without thinking, it just came out of my mouth, and oh, David, I’m so sorry!”

He looked at the ceiling, avoiding to meet my gaze. “Bella, I’m… You were… I can’t deal with a 24/7 needing-attention girlfriend.”

“I’m not one, I swear. I don’t know what happened last night. I promise I’ll be such a good girlfriend, David, please let’s try to fix it.” My eyes started to water up, and I think that was the main reason why David looked at me alarmed and said:

“Okay, we’ll try it.”

I kissed him goodbye and left, so happy I could barely breathe. But then, as if it was some kind of curse, since the day I promised him I’d be better, I kept getting worse every day.

More needing. More demanding. More *%^##y.

And he broke up with me a few times, then, but we always got back together after a day or two. But you know what people say. Once it’s broken, you can fix it, but breaking it again will be as easy as pie.

And oh, was it broken.

As much as I wouldn’t admit it, it was broken. I had broken it, threw it on the floor, stepped on it, bounced on it, spitted on it – okay, I think you have the image by now.

And this one time, he just said he was too tired.

“I can’t take this anymore, Bella. I really like you,” he said, and I realized something was really wrong this time. He had said “like” instead of the usual, “love” He doesn’t love me anymore. “…but, seeing how things are going, they have to end. And they’re ending. They’re ending right now, Bella. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t take it. I loved him too much to let him go so easily. But after a month of calling him and not getting called back, of showing up at his workplace and being ditched, of sending him “Forgive Me” cards and getting them back on the mail, I recognized it was over.

So, now you see the tiny detail I mentioned. I could see him in my mind, I could rewind and watch all of our nights together as many times as I wanted, but I wouldn’t get a new video, ever. It’s like no one is making movies anymore, and people just got left one thing – rent and watch the old ones over and over again.

But there’s only a difference between those situations. People would get used to not having new movies to watch – after all, there are so many already made! But I’d never get over the fact that I would never taste, feel, hear or see David again – we had so little time.


What do you think?

Nina
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#47 A real all american girl

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Posted 25 February 2007 - 03:34 PM

Hello Nina! I read your story Details....and I liked it! It had some grammar problems but all around the way it was written was beautiful. The only line that kind of stuck out at me was:

He was made for him, and I was made for him.

Do you mean He was made for me, and I was made for him?

But all together it was a really good story, I liked how you described how Bella couldn't seem to control what she said or the love she felt for him! Great job!

-HayHay
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#48 A real all american girl

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Posted 25 February 2007 - 04:04 PM

Name: THE GIRL, THE ROAD, THE NIGHT, THE BOY
Genre: ROMANCE

The Girl, the Road, the Night, the Boy


I love him.
I love her.
He shook my father’s strong hand, he kissed my mothers cheek, and he played with my baby brother. He was the one for me; there was no question about it. When I was with him I laughed, I smiled, I was happy. He was friends with my friends, he knew my favorite everything. We danced in the rain, we kissed in the snow, and we laughed in the sun. He always held my hand loosely yet tight enough to let me know he was there. He was my guy.

She kissed my father’s cheek, she hugged my mother, and she talked boys with my older sister. She was the one for me; there was no question about that. She never nagged me she listened and I mean truly listened to what I said. When I was sick she would lie in bed with me and we would just lay there. She would kiss my neck softly as we lay on the grass outside. She was friends with my friends, she was perfect. She was my girl.

Our Story starts on that road
That night.

He just took me to the movies, dinner, and ice cream. I sat back in his gray Honda and listened to Damien Rice. I felt bad, I felt wrong, and I was not telling him something. I didn’t know how he would react. Isn’t that funny? I think it is, I should know if this information would hurt him or not. But I don’t, so I kept my mouth shut as he turned onto the bridge.

She was keeping something from me, but I didn’t know what. That’s crazy isn’t it? I loved this girl, I should have known what she may have been keeping from me. I should now every little thing about her. But if it was something very important she would just tell me, right? Right…so I shook it off and focused back onto my music.

The music, it filled the car. I couldn’t even hear him breathe, but I could hear his heart beat. It would always be in beat with mine. Always. Why can’t I tell him, I have to sooner or later. That’s right I have to sooner or later, so I choose later. Much, much later.

What could she be thinking? Maybe she doesn’t want me anymore. What will I ever do without her though? I had to speak I just had to…

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. The view is just so captivating.” She answered.

Her voice was edgy, she was lying to me.

“Please just tell me.”

He knew something was wrong.

I knew something was wrong.

The rain came then and I told him to pull over.

So I pulled over.

Once outside I began to dance letting the rain hit my face.
I watched her dance, her hair wet, her face happy, her body soaked.

He walked towards me and I stopped.

She stopped as I got closer, but I just grabbed her softly and pulled her into a kiss.

That kiss made my body go weak, and made my heart stop.

“Tell me.” I prompted breathlessly as we parted.

I stayed quiet.

“Please.” I whispered into her hair.

She looked my deep in the eyes as she grabbed my hand and placed it lightly on her belly. My heart stopped, I didn’t know what to do.

His face was so unreadable and his body was stiff. I knew I shouldn’t have told him.

I then pulled her into me as I kissed her softly. Showing her I would stay with her all the way.

We stayed there for a while until the rain began beating harder.

So we walked back to the car and got in.

The rain hit the window harshly.

I couldn’t see.

Then came the headlight of another car,

I tried to swerve.

We went off the bridge.

The water hit and I quickly leaned over and pushed her out of the car.

Then he got stuck.

I couldn’t breath or even call out to her.

I cried for him.

I cried for her.

I am now here, holding his baby. The result of our love, the ending to the story about the girl, the road, the night, and the boy.





-HayHay
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#49 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 25 February 2007 - 06:18 PM

*cries* Never before have I cried because of a story on here. Never. Until now. And I'm not even exagerating... I am crying right now.

I love you, HayHay! You've made my day!!!

That is such a unique way of writing... and it's so sweet... almost like poetry.

♥♥♥

I'm going to read it again.

~Chelsie ♥

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#50 A real all american girl

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Posted 25 February 2007 - 06:21 PM

*cries* Never before have I cried because of a story on here. Never. Until now. And I'm not even exagerating... I am crying right now.

I love you, HayHay! You've made my day!!!

That is such a unique way of writing... and it's so sweet... almost like poetry.

♥♥♥

I'm going to read it again.

~Chelsie ♥


Oh wow...Thank you so, so much Chelsie! I mean wow! I have never written this way before, and I was thinking about writing a novel that way, so I wrote this to see if I could even write this way! Thank you again!

-HayHay
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#51 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 25 February 2007 - 06:22 PM

Although... reading it again, I realized that you switched between present and past tense... and there are a few very minor spelling mistakes. And I mean miniscule.

*sniffles*

~Chelsie ♥

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#52 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 25 February 2007 - 06:23 PM

Oh wow...Thank you so, so much Chelsie! I mean wow! I have never written this way before, and I was thinking about writing a novel that way, so I wrote this to see if I could even write this way! Thank you again!

-HayHay


You're welcome... and you SHOULD write a novel like this... I would read it, I guarantee you...

~Chelsie ♥

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#53 A real all american girl

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Posted 25 February 2007 - 06:23 PM

Although... reading it again, I realized that you switched between present and past tense... and there are a few very minor spelling mistakes. And I mean miniscule.

*sniffles*

~Chelsie ♥


Oops sorry...

-HayHay
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#54 princesskate14

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Posted 26 February 2007 - 06:25 AM

HayHay I loved it =] Like Chelsie said you did switch tenses and there a few minor mistakes. But other than that I loved it. I loved how you did both of their points of view, explaining the same thing, but yet...different. I loved it =]

Katie ♥

PS. I am teary right now myself ;]

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#55 General_Kenobi

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Posted 04 March 2007 - 07:42 AM

Sorry to intrude. I just wanted to say thanks so much to Katie and Chelsea for the comments about my story. I really appreciate it, and sorry it took so long for me to get back.
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#56 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 04 March 2007 - 05:29 PM

*sighs* Well, I've wanted to write a short story for awhile, and let's just say that the song inspired me. Now, I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, since the last short story I wrote was about a little boy who played poker. So... let me know what you think, even if it sucks worse than anything you've ever read.

Gosh, I'm so nervous. More than nervous. I'm just... blah. Okay, I'm posting this whether I want to or not!

~Chelsie ♥


The Thunder Rolls
By Chelsie L.

I had been waiting for him to meet me out by the front of the Kwik Mart. He had said that he’d be here.

I was nervous and fidgety as the clouds filled the sky with the promise of an upcoming storm. I sat down on the one bench in front of the small-town gas station, and I watched as people looked up at the sky. They knew it was coming, and so did I.

I saw a guy and his girlfriend come out of the Kwik Mart. They had bought Twizzlers and they were both giggling. She looked to be younger than him, and a glamour queen next to a rapper. But they looked so happy, laughing about something that I wasn’t part of.

I wished that was something I had.

I sighed and tapped my fingers on the bench. I knew that when the storm came I would have to get up if I didn’t want to get soaked. But while it was still hot and humid, I stayed outside. It was a wonderful feeling; the feeling right before a storm. Everyone was anxious for it; it hadn’t rained much all summer.

Right after the next car passed, the sky let loose in one wave. The rain dropped from the sky, showering everyone who had been crossing the parking lot at the time. Some girls let out a shriek and ran for the cover of the Kwik Mart.

I had a little bit of protection from the rain, but the small eave wasn’t enough to keep me from getting completely wet. I debated whether or not I should go inside.

But then he wouldn’t see me when he came to get me.

The lightning struck the sky and illuminated everything. I flinched at the suddenness of it all, and then waited for the thunder.

Boom! It crashed in the sky, and I smiled. Thunder storms were the best part of the summer. It was what made the beaches and the shopping and the walks all the more fun; the fact that we had no idea when the next storm would hit.

And then when they were over, everything would be fresh and green again. The sun would dry the earth, and the cycle would start over.

I stayed seated on the bench, feeling the rain hit me. My hair was soaked already and sticking to my forehead. I realized that my white t-shirt would stick to me, but I didn’t care. It was the summer, and it was storming.

That was all that mattered.

I saw his car before I heard it; a blue speck on the street, turning into the Kwik Mart. I stood up, no longer smiling. He was here to see me, but it didn’t make a difference. The only difference was where he had come from.

He pulled up right in front of me, and I hopped into the passenger seat. He leaned over to kiss me, and I stayed still, not returning the favor.

I didn’t want to believe it before now, but it only proved it. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, and I wished that I could get out of the small confinement of the car. I wanted to be out in the storm; where I could cry and no one would know the difference.

He smelled like he’d just been testing lotions at Victoria’s Secret.

I couldn’t take the overwhelming smell anymore; I told him to pull over.

He obliged without even asking what was going on. He already knew. I stepped out of the car and into the rain, and I knew it would be the last time.

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#57 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 04 March 2007 - 05:30 PM

Gosh, I don't even think I was this worried the first time I posted my story here... *chews nails*

~Chelsie ♥

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#58 jessinia

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Posted 04 March 2007 - 06:07 PM

*jaw hits the ground*

That.

Was.

Really.

Really.

Good.

*applauds*

Jess the Shocker
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#59 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 04 March 2007 - 06:14 PM

Thanks! *sigh* Well, now I feel better....

~Chelsie ♥

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#60 Mediator17

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Posted 05 March 2007 - 08:43 PM

oh my god CHELSIE!

It wasn't bad AT ALL. In fact, it was pretty much just the opposite. You shouldn't have been nervos about posting it, it's amazing.


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#61 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 05 March 2007 - 10:41 PM

Wow, Mel, coming from you it makes me wipe all my fears away... phew! Especially being my tagteam partner... lol

Thanks, anyways. :blush:

~Chelsie ♥

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#62 joycolcur

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Posted 07 March 2007 - 06:27 PM

Bravo! It was very, very good! I loved it!!!

~Colleen~
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#63 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 07 March 2007 - 09:42 PM

Aw, sweet Colleen...

~Chelsie ♥

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#64 roadkill2105

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Posted 10 March 2007 - 07:54 AM

Fate has funny ways of working.



Day 1-

I am Myra Dawson, I am Myra Dawson’

I told myself this over and over, but it didn’t stop the tears falling. I knew they would find me soon there was no hope for me. I crawled further under the table upon hearing the villagers screams. Why would they come to a small village like this? What good would it do them?

I was usually the strong, logical and bravest of my friends but they had reduced me to hide in a corner. I had been up with the other girls just that day grazing cows on the cliff top when they saw ships approaching. No one in our village owned a ship that big no ship like that had ever come near their small village.

Everyone was curious and everyone wanted to know exactly who was coming or why...others, with reasons understood now, were cautious. I had offered to run down the mountain and find out who their guests were.

Anticipation and excitement had filled me while running down the hills, but that all came crashing down upon hearing screams of pain, and wails for help. I stood motionless watching as the overgrown men ran manic on me village.

I was only pulled out of me reverie, by a crazy over sized man running towards me, that’s when me instincts kicked in.

I ran as fast as I could up the mountain aware his footsteps were right behind mine. But half way up I stopped dead. I couldn’t bring that man anywhere near me friends. The Vikings didn’t know they were up there. They were safe with the cows.

With that train of thought I had swallowed me hesitancy and walked off the hill. I slid down quickly tumbling, falling, it wasn’t until I landed on a path that I was able to get up along with all my aches and start running again.

I had run as fast as I could to find somewhere, anywhere to hide and that had lead me to my current position.

Hiding.

I was hiding for the first time in my life, crying under the table nursing my arm and trying to wipe my memory free of all the evil she’d seen. Me mind trying to picture the bottom of me dress not drenched in blood from the bodies, limbs and pleading people lying on the ground.

I placed me hands over me ears repeating in a low mumbling tone ‘I am Myra Dawson. I am Myra Dawson.’

But that distraction ended too, instantaneously as the door was crashed down and in the doorway stood a woman. She smiled cruelly at me then spoke a few soft words to the man beside her before another oaf charged at me taking away my consciousness.


Day-2

I woke painfully my arms were bound in front of me and I was pressing on what was no doubt a bruise. I looked around my vision not coming into play as of yet, but I could tell something wasn’t right. I could smell the sea like when I stood by the beach only I definitely wasn’t on land. I was swaying from side to side in a nauseating motion. I awkwardly rolled myself over to see a woman, that’s when it came back to me.

That woman was the lady who found me, that woman was associated with the Vikings who killed me friend’s family and who I had thought killed me. Anger rose within me, hatred filled my mind; I at this moment in time wanted nothing more than revenge.

So I struggled and kicked only to find the binds kept me tight. The lady smirked and let out what seemed to be a chuckled of amusement then proceeded mocking me by saying “That is rope my girl, you’re not getting out of there without someone to untie you.”

I scowled but said nothing out of exhaustion; I decided to simply close my eyes so that woman couldn’t see my tears.

But the lady seemed to have another agenda saying “Now, you were brave weren’t you, jumping off a mountain when you were already half way up it to stop us from finding your little friends. Well I have news for you, we found them and unlike yourself they didn’t spark my interest. You however strike me as courageous and you never leave with nothing after a raid. And considering your town had everything worth nothing, I decided maybe you could repay your towns lack of interest with some work. So rest for today, because tomorrow you will be helping clean the decks with the other slaves.”

I had barely understood a word of what the woman had said, her words were muddled. She had replaced letters with others and said things backwards. It didn’t matter though, I was alone, I had lead that man far enough up the mountain for them to find my friends. I was ashamed I had lost me family and had practically murdered me friends who were like sisters to me. The one word I understood was slave. Slaves were worth nothing. I was worth nothing to everyone.

I curled up in a ball having no interest in anything but mourning my loss.



Day-4

The next morning had arrived none to quickly I had been pulled out of the small room I had been encaged in, only for the scenery to change to more of the foul mean who had murdered my villagers. I was soon put to work but the only the only reason I was working is because my new mistress had promised to give me to the men if I didn’t.

I had done as I was told that day, but I still had my nausea. The sea definitely wasn’t my friend. I had never been on a boat. The fishing boats were for the men in the village so this new experience wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Days passes with nothing but water, I began to wonder if there was ever going to be anything other than water.


Day-11

It wasn’t until today that anything changed.

The morning had started as usual, which was waking up early and starting number one out of my long list of chores. I hadn’t spoken at all, well not unless spoken to but even then the only reply I was permitted to give was ‘yes ma’am’

I was beginning to understand the Viking’s language a bit better though. They all seemed to be getting anxious that no land had been seen yet.

I was torn from my eavesdropping today by cheers and screams of what seemed like joy from the men on the ship. Out of me sheer curiosity I suddenly blurted out to my mistress “What are they cheering about?”

The lady looks shocked at first but then regained me composure by replying “See that bird, it’s a land bird. This means we are close to land.”

Something inside of me kicked in. A familiar sensation of hope rose in me, although I would no doubt still be enslaved, I would no have storms, I wouldn’t be bailing out water, nor would I be throwing up of sea sickness.

They boat approached land steadily and I stood watching eagerly hoping that maybe there would be a better place.


Day-20

I am in a new house with other maids now. I have been for awhile. My mistress isn’t asking as much of me though, she says she doesn’t require me and that I will be given to someone else tomorrow.

I am worried I was just sort of in a strange way becoming attached to this woman. I know it is wrong of me, but she has save me. Clothed me and indeed did not give me to any men. I hope that my new master will be as nice as her, I hope that maybe we will get along and sometimes my opinion will be asked like it has been on a rare occasion with this mistress.


Day-21

You will never believe what my ex-mistress did. I am now working as farm hand in this country. The lady who I am now a slave of is war and welcoming but the oddest thing that happened was this conversation:

“Will the girl be any good at work? She looks a little thin.”

My old mistress had replied “She is indeed strong and brave. She’s worth a lot, she will serve you well.”

I must have made an impression. I know I will fit into this family somehow even if I am just someone who serves food and help grow vegetables. That is a lot better then if I had have been killed that while ago.

And today even though I have changed I am still Myra Dawson.


The end




Well everyone what'd you think? CC wanted thanks!

~♥~Cassie~♥~
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#65 Suze_twin93

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Posted 17 March 2007 - 04:53 AM

Wow. All these stories are like... Wow.

Here's mine, but I wrote it late at night one day, so it's not that great.

Title: Game over


Daniella stared at the screen with her hazel eyes, her tounge slightly poking out. She pressed the buttond of the remote like mad, her small and stubby fingers with perfect little nails stretching here and there. Then, the dreaded words apeared on the screen. 'Game Over'.

"Jack! Can you help me?" the five year old cried to her older brother. She could never remember how old he was, just that he was much older and that she loved him very much.

"What now Dan?" he asked her. She told him that the video game was too hard.

"I can't even pass stage one!" She complained. Jack laughed and had a go at it himself. Halfway through their dad called Jack downstairs.

"I'll come back to finish, so don't do anything, okay?" he told her and went downstairs. A couple of minutes later the phone rang. It was Jack's friend inviting him to a party.

"See ya!" he called walking out the frotn door. Daniella rushed downstairs.

"But Jack--" she began saying, but he was already gone.

********

"Good night Danny." Daniella's mum said, kissing her forehead. She was about to turn off the gaming console when Daniella exclaimed, "No mum! Jack said he would help me finish and not to do ANYTHING." she explained. Her mother sighed, but left it alone.

********

Daniella walked downstairs to have breakfast. The first thing she noticed was her mother's tear stained face.

"J... Jack has gone to sleep and he's not waking up." her mother explained.

"Like sleeping beauty?" asked inocent Daniella.

"No. Not like that at all."

"If this is a way to make me turn off the console, it isn't working." she said, "I'll wait forever if I have to." And that's exactly what she did.

********

"Mummy, where is your celly-phone?" Daniella asked.

"In my bag..." she answered sighing. Daniella took it and asked her mum to send a text.

"Sure darling. What would you want it to say?" she asked.

"When are you coming home? And send it to Jack please!" she said, smiling. Her mum paused, staring at the phone. She sent it anyway, just because Daniella was there.

"Why isn't he answering!" she exclaimed frustrated and grabbed the house phone. She rang Jack's friend Mark.

"Hello Mark! Is Jack there?" she asked, she heard Mark swallow hard.

"Uhm... No sorry" he answered and hung up. Daniella sighed.

"Jack, where are you?"

********

"Daniella has been texting Jack and ringing Mark ever since the car crash. She is still waiting for his return." Daniella's mum told her husband.

"Oh Martha, you're exagerating" he said. It had been a year since the accident and Daniella was now six.

"We must tell her about Jack's death. We can't keep waiting for someone who isn't coming back."

Daniella was listening from outside her parent's room. he opened the door, slowly. She was crying silently.

"Jack is dead?" she asked in a whisper, wiping her eyes with her pyjama sleeve.

"Oh honey!" her mother exclaimed and hugged her. Daniella slipped out of her mother's grasp.

"I'll go and turn the gaming console off." she whispered and walked slowly to her room. She looked at the T.V screen and smiled.

"Thank you Jack." she whispered, looking out her window at the stars. SHe turned back at the screen and read two words she hadn't seen there before. 'Level Complete.'


The End

xoxo

Sarah

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#66 xox-C@ndii-xox

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Posted 21 March 2007 - 05:52 AM

Posted Image

- All thanks to Ali for the banner above! -

To My Dear Father…

Posted Image



[Note: This story, in essence, is mature, so please do not read if you don't feel comfortable about abuse and depression and all.]

To my dear father (who left me and never came back),

I feel so helpless, so hurt, so broken. Why can't you come back? I want someone to love me, to hold me, to tell me everything will be okay, even if it won't. I just want to hear it. Please come back, please.

I walked to school, my bag heavy on my slumped shoulders. The people at the gate shied away from me, wondering what I was doing. They probably expected me to be in an orphanage, or a Home, instead of at a decent school like this - or not so decent.

I wanted to fly away from her, from everything. Everything hurt, inside and out. I wished I could escape. Why was everything so horribly wrong? My daddy was in town, and had been, for the past year. I was being hit by my step-mother, and no one could help me. Shuffling into the school, I pulled my sweater over my bruised wrists, and went into the corridor to put away my things. The girl next to me sniffed, and turned her head. I cowered, and wished I was invisible. Maybe I was. When I went into my form room, all was silent. I didn't bother wondering why.

Perhaps I already knew.

To my dear father (who still hasn't returned, and probably never will),

She did it again. I don't want to be like this. Why can't I stand up to her? I can't hold on much longer, people are noticing. My friends think I'm strange. I can't smile anymore. Daddy, please come back. I want you to be here. I am so alone.

I shrunk in the corner, my breath bursting out in rasps, knees clutched to my chin. Blood ran down my cheek, the cut stinging. She sat slumped against the wall, finally passing out from the alcohol. The bottle with which she hit me was still grasped in her hand, the bottom shattered. I swallowed, and closed my eyes, afraid to open them. I wished I could just die, and then, perhaps, I wouldn't feel so much pain.

To my dear father (who I don't think remembers me),

Why can't you just come back to me? If you only just came back, everything would be alright. She wouldn't hurt me anymore, and you would be here, and protect me, if she did. We would be happy, daddy. Please, come back.

Perhaps I would still feel pain. Where would I go? Would daddy come back if I died? Would he? Would he?

To my dear father (who doesn't love me),

My teacher said I'm very thin. She doesn't know. I wish I could tell someone, but she'd just hit me for telling. I wish I was dead. It hurts, daddy, it hurts so much.

The bleeding stopped, the cut having finally clotted. I stood, and went to the bathroom to wash the cut, and wipe my eyes of the salty tears I couldn't stop from leaking. I had gotten used to the pain, it happened too often. What I couldn't get used to was the pain I felt inside, the longing for someone to love me, for someone to care; because no one did, at all.

To my dear father (who still isn't coming back),

Why isn't anyone talking to me anymore? Why can't you just come back? I don't care about money, about anything, as long as you're here. Please come back. Please, daddy. I miss you, lots.

Daddy had gone to the city, to start a new business, he said, to make some money. He left me in the care of his new wife, and that's when it all began. It had been a nightmare. No, worse.

To my dear father (who hasn't called for ages),

At least tell me you're alright. I'm so scared you aren't. Why haven't you called? I wait by the phone every day after school. It never rings.

Staring at the old portable phone standing by the telephone directories, I let a tear leak out of the corner of my eye. I wished it would ring, with good news, bad news, anything. I'd rather know. I closed my eyes, and dreamt, of nice things, of love, of happiness.

To my dear father (who is the reason she hates me),

This is worse than Cinderella. At least she had friends. I have no one. Can you please come back now? It's been ages. She keeps hitting me. I wish she didn't drink so much. We are running out of food, and she never goes shopping. Where are we going to get more money? All she does is drink, hit me, drink some more, and hit me again. Why does she hate me so much? I didn't do anything to her. She was so nice before you left.

She was drinking again, today. She wrenched the door of the fridge open, her face livid, and when she found mouldy food, she got into a state again, and took out a bottle of beer. Always a bottle. Never a can. You can't injure people very well with cans; you can only give HIV-AIDS.

To my dear father (who I have given up in hoping for),

I told my teacher. She's sending me to a counsellor. I don't see how it will help. If she wants to help, she should contact you. She's denying it; she says I just trip over a lot. Does she think I lie? I'll be punished when I get home, I know, but what else can I do? Come back, daddy, please.

Why does she lie? What did I do? I would change anything to be safe and loved again.

To my dear father (who I wish would just come back),

Daddy, come back. Please.

I wish I could tell someone, and they would understand.

To my dear father (who will never know how I feel)),

Where are you?

There are so many love songs. Girls complain about their lives. I have no one to complain to. Are their lives really as bad as mine?

To my dear father (who I know has more important things to do),

I wish you could come back. Counselling doesn't help. Nothing helps. Come back, daddy. You'd make everything alright again.

I don't want to wait anymore. I really don't.

To my dear father (who really doesn't care),

I give up.

If only someone cared. Anyone.

To my dear father (who will never know I ever wrote these letters to him),

Goodbye, daddy. I love you. I'm sorry. I couldn't wait.

A statue stands in a shaded place; an angel girl with an upturned face. Her name is written on a polished rock. A broken heart that the world forgot.

[Lyrics: Concrete Angel - Martina McBride]

[Image Source: http://blazing-wolf1...deviantart.com/]



From Ali:

Candii, I don't know when you will return or if you will ever actually see this message, but, congratulations on your win for 'Best Short Story' with this moving piece. I hope you know that your piece touched a lot of people. Congratulations again, Candii! :)

ali :D

Edited by Ari-san, 12 November 2008 - 01:36 AM.
Winter (Awards) is here!

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#67 LadyMMac

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Posted 22 March 2007 - 05:52 PM

There are so many love songs. Girls complain about their lives. I have no one to complain to. Are their lives really as bad as mine?


I really, really, really like that line.

Overall, Candi, REALLY powerful piece. I absolutely loved it.

~Maggie

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#68 *HONEY*

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Posted 23 March 2007 - 07:06 PM

To my dear father (who I have given up in hoping for),

I told my teacher. She's sending me to a counsellor. I don't see how it will help. If she wants to help, she should contact you. She's denying it; she says I just trip over a lot. Does she think I lie? I'll be punished when I get home, I know, but what else can I do? Come back, daddy, please.

*counselour

And I really love your story Candii. It's nicely written.

-xx tephy

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#69 Dorkus_united

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Posted 24 March 2007 - 10:29 PM

Can we post short articles here for feedback?
I'd really like to see what people think of ths article I wrote about my geography trip for my school magazine before I submit it.
*maria*

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#70 *HONEY*

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Posted 25 March 2007 - 09:45 AM

^ Please use the Editor's Square for that :)

-xx tephy

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#71 dark angel

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Posted 25 March 2007 - 09:45 PM

[quote] She's denying it; she says I just trip over a lot. Does she think I lie?/[quote]
That is the most unfair part.
It's heartbreaking and powerful within its whole content. I don't think anybody would deny they understand what this girl has felt after reading this. And although, this is fictional, it perfectlly makes sense, it is as though as telling someone's forgotten story. The lyrics of Concrete Angel is amazing. If you had putten it at the beginning, I would think that perhaps these lyrics gave you the idea to write this, but now I am not sure. I love this very much. Well done, candii.
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#72 xox-C@ndii-xox

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Posted 26 March 2007 - 02:02 AM

Thanks, guys. =]

Teph, Word didn't pick that up. Is that the US spelling? I'll check up on that, I'm not sure. Hmm.

Em, thanks! Concrete Angel did inspire me, but it would be odd to be mentioning her grave at the beginning of the story.



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#73 LadyMMac

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Posted 26 March 2007 - 04:41 PM

I doubt it Candi. I've always spelled it 'counselor'. But I can't spell, so what do I know?
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#74 *HONEY*

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Posted 26 March 2007 - 05:36 PM

Actually, Maggie is correct. :) Counselor.

-xx tephy

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#75 bookworm23

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Posted 28 March 2007 - 05:24 PM

The Race



“Daily Prophet, Daily Prophet, fifty cents,” the seller shouted. As Ida Rudolph

took the newspaper the seller gave Ida a dirty look. That look Ida had memorized in her

head. It was a look given to all black people. As Ida read the article on the front page

she saw something that was of interest to her. It read:


Footrace
Come one, come all
July 20 th, 1 o’clock -$12.00 for participants



Ida knew right when she read those words she had to compete. When Ida got to her

neighborhood, she saw a group of white girls sitting on the swings at the public park.

Ida moved in their direction, but before taking one more step one of the girls’ said,

“You are not welcome here, black.” The other girls shouted, “You tell her Macy! We

don’t want a black to play with us.”

Ida felt crushed, those girls had used the word black so strongly, as if it were her birth

name. As Ida walked into the front door of her house she saw the mail on the counter

and wondered if there were any letters for her. All she saw were bills on top of bills.

When her father got home, she would remind him to pay them. Ida did just that, but her

father cringed at the word of bills and started busying himself by dusting off his

coat. “Papa,” Ida whispered. “Is there something I should know?”

That night Papa explained to Ida about their not being able to pay their bills and that

they would soon become bankrupt. After all of this was talked over Ida started bringing

running into the conversation. She said, “Papa, there was this footrace ad in the paper

and I was hoping I could compete! Could you help me train.” At the words Ida had just

said Papa cringed for the second time that night.

“Ida, I really wish I could, but this isn’t the best time. Ida, I need your help.” Papa said.

Need, Papa had said it so desperately. He really did need her help.


********************************************************************************

**


The next day Ida went by the park again to find the same girls gossiping on the swings.

This time though they were all wearing new running shoes. Ida looked down at her feet

and saw a pair of old, hand-me-downs, torn up shoes. They were from the girl who lived

a block from Ida’s house. Ida had gotten them about three years ago. When Ida walked

by the girls Macy started pointing and laughing at Ida’s shoes. All of her friends chimed

in and started laughing even louder than Macy. Ida ran away heart broken. She ran all

the way home. The running made her feel like she was flying, floating up to heaven to

her Mama’s side. Oh, how she missed Mama! Ida remembered the way Mama used to

rub her back at night and read Ida’s favorite book, Amazing Grace. Sometimes Ida felt

as if she were Grace who always loved to hear exciting stories.


That night at dinner her father said he had some great news. He said that Ida and

him were not going to be bankrupt, that they were still poor but owed nothing. The news

Ida was hoping for came too. “Ida,” papa said excitedly. “I can help you train for the

race!” So for the next couple of weeks Ida and Papa went to the park and trained for

hours at a time. They did this same routine until it was July 20, the day of the race. Ida

woke up to the smell of ham and eggs and the gleaming face of her father. After the

breakfast of ham and eggs was finished Ida excused herself and went to get dressed. She

put on her white ripped T-shirt and some blue jean shorts. Then she and Papa went

down to the local school, where the only track in town was. This is where the race was

to be held. Ida was so excited until she saw the girls from the park all with their parents

warming up for the race. The race was going to start any minute so Ida had to take her

place at the starting line. The person in charge of the race signaled all the racers to start

running. Ida was in the lead having the same thought she had gotten the other day. The

thought where she was floating up to heaven to her Mama’s side. Ida could almost

picture her mama waiting for her. That was when Macy had to come and push Ida.

“Ouch!” Ida screamed. She had just fallen onto the hard earth. She even might have

broken her legs. Right when she thought things couldn’t be worse she saw her mama

smiling down at Ida saying that things would be all right. Ida then got up and started

running as fast as she could even though the pain in her legs was throbbing! Macy

looked back and to her astonishment saw Ida sprinting along the track. Ida was about to

beat Macy. Ida did in fact end up beating Macy and everyone else in the race. She had

won! Papa came running to Ida’s side congratulating her for winning. He also asked how

her legs were and she replied by saying, “This girl named Macy pushed me on purpose

and I landed on the ground. I think my legs might be broken!”


********************************************************************************

**


Ida spent the next couple of weeks in bed. Right after the race Papa had called for the

doctor who was the only one that treated black people. He had said that Ida’s legs were

broken and that she might not ever be able to walk or run on them again. The
doctor had said that there was still hope. If Ida put braces on both of her legs she

could possibly walk like she used to. For the next couple of years Ida got humiliated and

joked about because of her leg braces she wore. That was before a miracle happened and

Ida could finally take her braces off and finally run and walk again. When Ida was older

she changed her first name to Wilma. So now her name is Wilma Rudolph.


********************************************************************************

**


Today Wilma Rudolph is known to be one of the greatest female runners in

America. She is famous world wide. Even though Wilma wore braces on her legs until

she was seventeen years old, she still had hope. She had hope that she could one day run

again.
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#76 Bookjunkie22

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Posted 29 March 2007 - 11:52 PM

Hi. I'm new here and I accidently posted my story in the regular part instead of this area. I'm sorry.

Anyway this is a semi-true story. The main charector, Kat, is basically me, and Jackie and Chase are people I know. Most of the events in my story happened this past year, but you guys really didn't need to know that, sorry. So here Goes.


The Summer Crew

I glanced around at my now empty room. The only things left were my bed and the pictures I’d spent months taping to my wall. It just seemed wrong to take them down, after all it was still my room, even if I was leaving.

I’d made the decision so quickly, and once it was made there was no going back. I was going to leave my problems behind, and go move in with my father.

The people that say you can’t run from your problems are the people who have never tried. My whole life has been about running from problem after problem. Why should this one be any different? Just cause this problem happened to be a boy.

Before I start let me just say don’t flee, it’s not a girl falls for boy and spends months, weeks, and days whining over how much she loves him. Really, it’s not.

See I live in a trailer park. It’s not really as bad as it sounds. I know when most people think of trailer parks they see the park Shawn from Boy Meets World lived in before his brother came and got that awesome apartment and had Shawn and Eric move in with him.

It’s actually a cool place to live, especially during the summer. When you’re in school you basically choose your friends based on your interests, which makes sense. It’s just that when you have people living like right next door to you, it doesn’t matter how old they are or what their favorite show is, if you’re bored, and they’re bored then you guys are gonna hang out and have a pretty kick ass time doing it.

So naturally when school ended the summer crew, as Malley affectionately and dorkily labels us, assemble.

The crew is made up of five people. There’s Callie “Malley” O’Malley, she’s sixteen and a total brain. Justin Banks, who’s also sixteen, he has been pining after Malley since they met five years ago, but she’s completely clueless. Jackie Summers, who used to be my best friend, but after the events of this summer… well we’ll get to that, she’s nineteen. Next is Chase Jones, the whole reason for this story, but we’ll get to this later too, he’s twenty. Finally is me, Kat Owens, I’m seventeen, and I’m insane, but once again I’ll get to that later.

It all started when Jackie and Chase hooked up the first week of summer vacation. Chase has just returned home from his first year of college, and Jackie just graduated high school. It was inevitable that they would go out. Everyone predicted it two weeks before Chase got home, and all Jackie could talk about was how excited she was he was going be back. What we didn’t expect was what came next.

I was reading when I heard the knocking sound, I’d grown so fond of. I put my book down and pulled back my curtains to reveal Chase standing on the opposite side of my window.

“Hey.” I said surprised that he was alone. Don’t get me wrong Chase and I are friends, it’s just as far as I knew we weren’t the kinda friends that hung out alone.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Um… you tell me.” I said, “It’s one in the morning.”

“Yeah, sorry…” he apologized, “Where you asleep?”

I glanced pointedly at my lamp which had been on when he knocked, “Yes, yes I was.”

He grinned and I moved over allowing him to climb in my window. I sat down on my bed, while he took the chair next to my bookcase. I couldn’t help but think how strange this was. Chase had never been in my room during daylight hours let alone the middle of the night. He was checking out my bookcase when I finally spoke up.

“Okay, what’s your damage Heather?”

He quickly put down the book he was looking at, Jane Eyre, and turned to face me, “Good book?”

I nodded, “I’ll lend it to you someday. Now what’s up?”

“Okay you know how me and Jackie are dating right?” Off my look, which said ‘duh’ he continued, “Okay well, she mentions other guys sometimes…a lot. Not just exes either, guys that she had liked not much longer than a few months ago.”

I nodded still a little confused, “Okay.”

“Well, I’m… I guess I’m kind of jealous. Kind of really jealous.” He finally spit out.

I don’t know if it was the fact that it was now one thirty and I was dead tired, or if it was that I’d been through this millions of times before with Jackie’s other boyfriends, but for whatever reason I started laughing. Alot. So much so that Chase glared at me from the moment I started giggling till I wiped the tears from my eyes claiming I was finished.

“Sorry.” I apologized.

“Sure.” He said still glaring.

“Okay, Chase listen, if it bugs you talk to her about it. But seriously dude, you knew she wasn’t a… girl equivalent of a monk… yeah, “ I nodded happy with my choice of words, “before you started dating.”

From that point on Chase seemed to see me as the relationship guru, even though I’d never had one of my own. Whenever he would get in a fight with Jackie I’d find him at my window that night. Even Callie found it strange and she promptly voiced this.

“Look Malley, he just needs someone to talk to. He doesn’t want to upset Jackie.” I said, trying to justify my new friendship.

“Don’t you think not sharing his fears and concerns about their relationship will upset her more that the fears and concerns themselves?” Malley asked.

Luckily Justin came outside and claimed Malley’s attention so I didn’t have to answer. But I had to admit, if only to myself, that she had a point. I knew I had to stop this connection Chase and I were forming. Jackie was my best friend and I didn’t want to hurt her. So that night I told him so.

“What?” he asked putting down my newest book, Sense and Sensibility, down.

“Chase, Jackie is your girlfriend, she’s my best friend, I don’t’ want to hurt her anymore.”

“What do you mean hurt her?” he asked.

“You use me to talk out all your problems instead of facing her with them. How do you think that makes her feel?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” He admitted.

“Summer is almost over, you’re leaving in two weeks, spend them with her, talk to her.” I said with an unfamiliar lump in my throat, “I mean, you love her don’t you?” He nodded with little enthusiasm, “Then go make it work.” He nodded a final time and climbed back out my window.

You’d think that was the end of the story right? Chase goes to Jackie and finally talks out their problems. They both fall further in love and live happily ever after right? Wrong. About two days later things got a whole hell of a lot worse.


“Jacks what the hell dude?” I demanded. Jackie, Callie, and I were all sitting on my porch. I was in the middle of painting my nails, black cause it goes with everything, not cause I’m a goth or anything. Anyway we’d been sitting there for a full twenty minutes and Jackie had yet to say a word. Not even an “Oh my god, stop talking about that crap” when Callie and I were discussing an old re-run of The OC, a show which Jackie absolutely hates.

“What do mean?” she asked.

“You’re so quiet.” Malley said, “Who died?”

“I’m a week and a half late.” She said.

I spit out the soda I’d been drinking while Malley yelled, “What?”

“I’m a week and a half late.” She repeated.

“Oh my god.” I squeaked, “What did Chase say?”

“I haven’t told him, and I’m not gonna till I’m sure.” Jackie said, and then added, “And you guys can’t either.” Callie nodded as I dropped my head to my knees.

Before anyone could say anything else Justin and Chase joined the three of us on my porch.

“Oh man Kat, that nail polish remover smells nasty.” Justin said, plugging his nose.

“Didn’t think it smelled so ripe when I was gonna pay you ten bucks to drink it.” Jackie reminded.

“I would have done it to if someone,” Justin turned pointedly at me, “hadn’t taken it away and refused to let me have it back.”

“Oh yeah, sorry I wouldn’t let you kill yourself Justin.” I said with a little too much hostility. Luckily for me he didn’t seem to notice, as he continued his speech with how much stronger he is than the average human a little poison wouldn’t hurt him.

“What’s with you, Squirt?” Chase asked softly.

I shook my head and muttered, “Nothing.” He shrugged and turned back to the conversation.

It happened the next day. Malley, Justin, and I could hear the yelling from Justin’s yard. We couldn’t make out much, except Chase asking why she told Callie and I before she even bothered telling him, and Jackie trying to justify it with how she wanted to be sure before she worried him.

By that point Malley and I filled Justin in on the news that part of the Summer Crew might be reproducing. He wasn’t as shocked as we had been, but not much surprises Justin so Callie and I shrugged it off.

Anyway the last thing I expected that night, as I pulled out a new sheet to make my bed, was Chase knocking on my window. But there he was. He climbed in as I went back to trying to force the sheet to fit the last corner without coming off the others.

“So…” I stated uncomfortably, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you, she asked me not to and well she’s my best friend…”

“I know.” He said from his spot in the chair.

“I wanted to tell you. Really.” I couldn’t look him in the eyes; I was so ashamed of myself.

“Kat.” He interrupted.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I’m not mad at you.” I let go of a breath I didn’t even know I was holding as he continued, “It wasn’t your responsibility to tell me. It was hers.” He paused for about a minute and then said, “If she’s not pregnant, I’m breaking up with her.”

And the bad just kept getting badder.

After a long night of no sleep, I got up to make my bed. Chase was gonna break up with Jackie if she wasn’t pregnant. If she was he was gonna stay with her. If I was completely honest with myself I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to happen.

As it turned out though Jackie wasn’t pregnant. We were all present when she took the test two days later. Malley, Justin, and I sat on Malley’s couch while Chase paced outside the bathroom door. No one was home at Malley’s house so we figured it was safe.

Jackie came out of the bathroom empty handed with a smile on her face, “I’m not.”

“Thank God.” Callie said, elbowing Justin who, deciding the excitement was over turned on the TV.

“We need to talk.” Was all Chase said as he led her to Malley’s bedroom.

I closed my eyes and sighed knowing what was coming. A sobbing Jackie, and upset Chase, a whole lot of questions from Justin and Callie. Except it didn’t. Come, I mean.

Ten minutes later Jackie and Chase exited the room; Jackie was smiling a bit too. Maybe Chase changed his mind was all I could think.

“Guys we got news.” Jackie said.

“You lied? You really are pregnant?” Justin guessed, jokingly.

All the color drained from Jackie’s face for a second then she smiled and said, “No, you idiot. Chase and I decided to break up.”

“What?” Callie asked surprised.

“Its just time.” Chase said, coming to sit in between Callie and me.

“And your both okay?” I directed more to Jackie who sat on the recliner.

She nodded and turned to face the TV.

So all my worrying was really for nothing. Or so I thought, but I later learned I was wrong, but to follow the earlier theme, we’ll get to that bit later.

Anyway Chase left for school again a week later, but not before a goodbye party thrown by Callie. She called it The Summer Crew’s last hurrah of the summer. She even ordered us to bring us gifts.

Her gift was the cake she baked. It was like four layers, one was white, one chocolate, strawberry, and yellow. Jackie gave him a shirt he’d pointed out on one of the trips we’d taken to the mall, and Justin gave him a video game that they could both play online, against each other. I gave him a copy of Jane Eyre.

When he unwrapped it I knew at once he remembered. The day we really became friends. Sure we had been friends before that night but not like we are now and we both recognized that fact. This book symbolized that.

“God, Kat, a book?” Justin asked, “Haven’t we told you reading makes you dumber?”

“Well you must be reading five hundred pages a day.” I said, teasingly pinching his cheeks.

“Thanks Kat.” Chase said sincerely.

School started shortly after that for Callie, Justin, and I while Jackie started her job search. A couple days into my senior year, and a few weeks into the start of his second year of college Chase called me.

It’s not like he had anything to talk about, he was just bored so he called, and I didn’t mind. And that’s how I spent September through November, going to school during the day, hanging with Malley, Justin, and occasionally Jackie when she wasn’t working, then talking to Chase before bed. Somehow the Summer Crew was staying in tact even after summer had ended.

The week before Thanksgiving break I hadn’t talked to Chase in a few days and I hadn’t seen Jackie for about two weeks. Her mom said she was sick with a stomach virus and wasn’t coming to hang out. I wished her well and headed in the direction of my house when my cell rang, “Scholastic Boy” flashed across the window, “Hey Chase.” I greeted.

“Hey Squirt.” He said.

“Don’t call me Squirt. What’s up?” I glanced at my watch, “It’s kinda early for you to be calling.”

“I just wanted to let you know I was gonna call you a little late tonight.” He said.

“As opposed to the time it was when you called me yesterday and the day before?” I pressed.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry I missed the past couple days.” He apologized, “It’s kinda a weird reason.”

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. I’ll call you later. Bye.” And with that he hung up, leaving me very confused.

It was two in the morning when he finally called, the first thing he said was, “Hey, did I wake you?”

“Yeah right,” I said annoyed, “Now what’s going on?”

“Huh?” he actually sounded genuinely confused.

“Earlier today? You know the weird reason why you haven’t been calling?” I said.

“Oh that.” He said and I swear he almost sounded amused, “Never mind that.”

“What do you mean never mind that?” I demanded, “Tell me why you haven’t been calling me! Did I do something?”

“No!” He was quick to say, “No, it’s nothing you’ve done. Look I can’t explain it yet.”

“Okay, then when?” I asked.

“…January ninth.” He said randomly.

“That’s like two months from now.” I said looking at my calendar.

“A little bit less.” He defended, “It’s more like a month and a half.”

“That’s forever!” I said.

“It’ll go by in no time.” He dismissed.

I, of course, wouldn’t let it go. When he came home the following Tuesday for Thanksgiving, I immediately bombarded him with questions before he even made it out of the car. I hoped into the passenger seat and read off a list I had made the night before.

“Are you dying?” I asked. He laughed slightly and shook his head no, “You promise?”

“I promise I’m not leaving you anytime soon.” He said crossing his heart.

“Right.” I said, “Okay so you said you know I’ll have a lot of questions, first of all duh when don’t I? But what makes you so sure?” He started laughing again, and I turned to face him, “Is there anything I can do to make you tell me sooner than January?”

“Have my baby.” He said jokingly.

“Not unless you marry me first.” I giggled going along with the joke.

“Okay.” He said seriously all evidence of teasing and kidding gone, “Now I’m gonna go see my family. Later future wife.”

My first instinct was to rush to Callie’s house to tell her, but I stopped myself. I couldn’t tell anyone, at least not right away. Besides I wasn’t even sure if he was serious. I mean I wanted him to be serious, but… I didn’t know if he was.

On my way back to my house I spotted Jackie getting something from her car, “Jacks!”

“Hey Kat.” She said waving at me. When I got close enough to her I noticed a few differences in the way she was walking. It was like she was carrying herself differently. But I shrugged it off.

“Where’ve you been, you hermit?” I asked.

“Oh you know, work then home.” She said, “What about you Kat?”

“School then home.” I said, “What glamorous lives we lead.”

Jackie smiled and waved bye as she went back inside. I once again attempted to go home when Malley came running out of her house yelling my name.

“Whoa Malley, what’s up?”

“There’s something you need to see.” She said steering me in the direction of her house and straight into her bathroom, “Look.” She added pointing to a pregnancy test on the sink.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant!” I exclaimed, “Callie how could you be so stupid? I thought you were gonna wait. What just because you’re dating Justin means you’re just gonna give it all away?”

“Whoa! First of all, I AM going to wait. I have NOT slept with Justin, and this is not MY test, it’s Jackie’s!”

“Wait what?” I asked.

“This is Jackie’s pregnancy test from three months ago.” Callie said, “When she took it back in the summer I told her to put it under the sink, so I could dispose of it without anyone, including my parents, finding it. I kinda forgot until my parents told me to clean the bathroom. Kat, she lied, she’s having a baby.”

Suddenly past events started coming back to me, Jackie’s stomach virus, the weird way she’d been walking, and finally the day she’d taken the test.

Jackie and Chase exited Callie’s room.

“Guys we got news.” Jackie said.

“You lied? You really are pregnant?” Justin guessed, jokingly.

All the color drained from Jackie’s face for a second then she smiled and said, “No, you idiot. Chase and I decided to break up.”

“Oh my god.” I said sinking down to the bathroom floor, “She’s been lying to us.” I felt like throwing up, good thing I was in the right room for that. Callie sat down next to me and put her arms around my shoulders, and we just sat like that, trying to fathom how she could do this to not just us but Chase, “Oh god.” I exclaimed remembering Chase.

“What?” Callie asked.

“Chase.” I said, and she understood.

The next morning I was awoken to a knock on my window. I knew it was him. I took a deep breath before pulling the curtains back, “Hey.”

“Hi,” He grinned, “Future Wife.”

I smiled feeling like I could cry, “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay, but first do you wanna come with me to run some errands today?” he asked the grin never leaving his face.

“Sure, but when we get home I have to tell you something. Something important.” I said seriously.

“Sure.” He said, “I’ll come get you in an hour.” He said turning to head home to get ready.

When I climbed into the front seat I was surprised to find his to younger brothers, Spence and Andy in the back already bickering. He gave me a quick grin and said, “This is what it’s gonna be like.”

“What?” I asked.

“When we get married.” He said.

I swallowed the bile that was climbing up my throat and smiled at him. By the end of the outing I’d almost cried ten times, Chase had made references to us having kids at least fifteen times, and I’d broken up one Spencer/Andy fight prompting Chase to declare me the perfect mother for his future children. When the constant knowledge of Jackie’s condition didn’t fill my head all I could think was how much I wanted this. It really snuck up on me how fast and hard I fell for him.

When we got home Callie came outside. She mouthed, “Did you tell him?” I quickly shook my head ‘no.’ She responded by mouthing, “And why the hell not?”

It was at that moment that my mother yelled to me that dinner was ready, and I couldn’t tell her that I needed to talk to Jackie before anyone did anything.

I came back out about an hour later to find Chase sitting in his car. I climbed into the passenger seat and smiled at him. He returned it half heartedly and said, “I uh… I know what you needed to tell me this morning.”

“What?” I asked shocked, “How?”

“Malley.” He mumbled.

MALLEY!!!!!

“Oh. I wanted to tell you but it wasn’t my place.” I offered lamely. De za vu, anyone?

“I know.” He nodded.

“I’m sorry.” I said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He said sincerely.

A few minutes passed and we said nothing. Finally I couldn’t take the silence, so I held up my pinkie and asked, “Still wanna get married?”

He smiled at me and nodded linking pinkies, “Of course.”

After about an hour of being alone talking about future stuff and artfully avoiding the subject of Jackie, Justin knocked on the front window and hoped into the back seat.

“Hey you guys.”

“Hey Just, where’s Malley?” I asked.

“Home. Dishwashing duty.” He said, “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing, just sitting in here cause someone complains it’s to cold outside.” Chase said glancing pointedly at me.

Another knock came on the door. I was expecting Malley so I opened the door without looking. It wasn’t Malley of course it wasn’t Malley. It was Jackie. Figures right?

“Jacks.” I said sliding into the middle so she could fit up front with the two of us. Before Jackie opened her mouth Chase was muttering a bunch of curse words under his breath. I quickly elbowed him before Justin and Jackie got suspicious.

“Hey Kat, Justin, Chase.” She greeted.

Not even five minutes passed before Jackie began flirting with Chase. I swallowed hard as I tried to convince myself I was only imagining him flirting back. Malley joined the car a half hour later, and started making comments about the wonder couple getting back together.

“NO!” I screamed in my head. I hadn’t spoken in an hour by that point but no one seemed to notice, least of all Chase.

When my ten-thirty curfew rolled around, we had all planned to go in. Thanksgiving was the next day after all. But as we all started for our homes Jackie turned back to Chase and asked if they could talk quickly. To which he replied, “Of course.”

I slammed my door behind me and sunk to the ground with my head between my knees taking deep breaths trying to convince myself everything was okay.

I waited until four in the morning for a phone call or a knock on my window but nothing ever came. I didn’t sleep that night, and I didn’t eat on Thanksgiving. I laid in bed that night wondering what I’d done that day, when my cell phone alerted me to a text from Scholastic Boy. I excitedly opened the text, and even read it out loud to myself, “Where is my Kat? I’m only a little drunk, my family loves to get me drunk, and it was so nice having my cousin sleeping on my chest. Can’t wait for ours to do the same!”

Well actually it was more like this, “Were is my Kat?? Im only lil drunk, my famly loves t get me drunk, an it was so nic to have my cusin slepin on my chest. Cant wait for ours t do the sam!” But it was still sweet nonetheless.

All that worrying I’d done was for nothing, I’d concluded. Tomorrow I’d tell him that I think- no I know- I liked him.

I was rehearsing what I wanted to say as I headed towards his house, “Chase, I think somewhere over the past couples months I fell for-“ I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw Jackie lean in and kiss Chase square on the mouth on the hood of his car. I ducked down and crouched closer to hear what the hell was going on ignoring the pain I felt in my chest for as long as it would allow.

“She told me you hated me, and didn’t want our baby, if I was pregnant, so when I took the test I lied.” Jackie told him. I could hear the tears starting in her voice.

“Who?” was what I wanted to ask but stayed quiet.

“That’s not true. I love you, and our baby.” Chase said. I felt a sharp pang in my chest as he continued, “She manipulated me to.”

“We need to start fresh without all of Kat Owens lies.” Jackie said, “I love you and I wanna be with you and our baby.”

“I love you and I wanna be with you and our baby.” Chase repeated and they kissed again.

A drop of water hit my left hand, and I glanced up to see if it was raining, that’s when I realized I had started crying. Jackie said Kat Owens. Jackie said I told her Chase hated her. Chase said I manipulated him. I quietly got up and headed for my last safe place.

Malley answered the door to a sobbing mess of a girl. Me. She quickly led me into her room and let me sob into her pillow. She didn’t ask questions as she stroked my hair trying to calm me. She didn’t ask questions when my tears finally stopped and I asked if I could spend the night. She didn’t ask questions the next morning when I packed up my stuff. In fact all she said as I opened the door was, “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.”

I avoided everyone for three days following that. When I finally worked up the courage to come outside I found Justin, Jackie, and Chase all sitting in Jackie’s driveway. I had intended to get the mail and go back inside but Justin spotted me and called me over.

“Hi.” I mumbled.

“Where you been?” Justin asked.

“Yeah, now whose the hermit?” Jackie asked, giving me a smile I knew was fake.

Before I could say anything Chase stood, “Uh Kat can I talk to you for a minute?”

I shrugged and followed him in a different direction, “What?” I asked when we were out of the eye line of the other two.

“ Kat.” He said in an almost pitying tone reaching for my hand.

“"Don't!" I said angrily willing myself not to cry.

"Squirt." he tried again.

“Don’t,” I repeated as tears slid down my cheeks I choked out, "Don't say that. Offering it up to whoever’s there! You picked her over me, you treated me like a doormat and walked all over me, you basically painted me as some home wrecking *^&$^&! Yeah I heard you both, and you know what? I'm tired of it. I can't do it anymore Chase I just can't!" I ran for Callie's house, throwing the door open, "Malley! I'm ready to talk now!" I sobbed.

I came up with the plan to leave when he started coming home on weekends to be with her. I convinced my mom it was because there weren’t any good jobs for the field I wanted to enter in our town. I asked my dad the following week, and the plan was set in motion.

Malley was understandably upset when I told her. Even more so when I mentioned how soon I was leaving. She wanted to throw me a party but I quickly dismissed the idea, shuddering at the thought of facing the two of them together.

I reached for my last box and walked out to my dad’s car. I stood at the end of my driveway for a few minutes. To my left stood Jackie, Chase, Justin, and Callie. Summer was long over yet here we were, the summer crew.

Justin noticed me first and called over, “Kat, come hang out one last time.”

I looked at Chase then at Jackie, trying to figure out what they were thinking. Chase avoided my gaze and Jackie met me with a glare. Then I did something that surprised even me. I said in a calm voice, “I gotta head out Justin, sorry. Bye you guys."

As my dad started the car I gave the gang one last look. Callie was grinning at me, Jackie was still glaring, and Justin was waving, but the last gaze I caught is the one I know I'll always remember. It was Chase.

I caught his eye and felt that familiar pang in my chest, and it was in that moment that I realized it would probably always be there. I will probably always love him, but I've given him up. He's not the guy I thought he was, but more importantly I'm not the girl he thought I was.

If someone asked me the exact moment everything changed I’d have to say the night Chase knocked on my window asking for my advice. I should have sent him away claiming I was tired, but I know even if I got the chance to do it again, I wouldn’t change anything.

The events that had transpired changed all of us, but in some ways I’ll always remember us from that last summer.

The last year we were The Summer Crew.
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#77 plainjane12

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Posted 30 March 2007 - 09:50 PM

The Race
“Daily Prophet, Daily Prophet, fifty cents,” the seller shouted. As Ida Rudolph

took the newspaper the seller gave Ida a dirty look. That look Ida had memorized in her

head. It was a look given to all black people. As Ida read the article on the front page

she saw something that was of interest to her. It read:
Footrace
Come one, come all
July 20 th, 1 o’clock -$12.00 for participants
Ida knew right when she read those words she had to compete. When Ida got to her

neighborhood, she saw a group of white girls sitting on the swings at the public park.

Ida moved in their direction, but before taking one more step one of the girls’ said,

“You are not welcome here, black.” The other girls shouted, “You tell her Macy! We

don’t want a black to play with us.”

Ida felt crushed, those girls had used the word black so strongly, as if it were her birth

name. As Ida walked into the front door of her house she saw the mail on the counter

and wondered if there were any letters for her. All she saw were bills on top of bills.

When her father got home, she would remind him to pay them. Ida did just that, but her

father cringed at the word of bills and started busying himself by dusting off his

coat. “Papa,” Ida whispered. “Is there something I should know?”

That night Papa explained to Ida about their not being able to pay their bills and that

they would soon become bankrupt. After all of this was talked over Ida started bringing

running into the conversation. She said, “Papa, there was this footrace ad in the paper

and I was hoping I could compete! Could you help me train.” At the words Ida had just

said Papa cringed for the second time that night.

“Ida, I really wish I could, but this isn’t the best time. Ida, I need your help.” Papa said.

Need, Papa had said it so desperately. He really did need her help.
********************************************************************************

**
The next day Ida went by the park again to find the same girls gossiping on the swings.

This time though they were all wearing new running shoes. Ida looked down at her feet

and saw a pair of old, hand-me-downs, torn up shoes. They were from the girl who lived

a block from Ida’s house. Ida had gotten them about three years ago. When Ida walked

by the girls Macy started pointing and laughing at Ida’s shoes. All of her friends chimed

in and started laughing even louder than Macy. Ida ran away heart broken. She ran all

the way home. The running made her feel like she was flying, floating up to heaven to

her Mama’s side. Oh, how she missed Mama! Ida remembered the way Mama used to

rub her back at night and read Ida’s favorite book, Amazing Grace. Sometimes Ida felt

as if she were Grace who always loved to hear exciting stories.
That night at dinner her father said he had some great news. He said that Ida and

him were not going to be bankrupt, that they were still poor but owed nothing. The news

Ida was hoping for came too. “Ida,” papa said excitedly. “I can help you train for the

race!” So for the next couple of weeks Ida and Papa went to the park and trained for

hours at a time. They did this same routine until it was July 20, the day of the race. Ida

woke up to the smell of ham and eggs and the gleaming face of her father. After the

breakfast of ham and eggs was finished Ida excused herself and went to get dressed. She

put on her white ripped T-shirt and some blue jean shorts. Then she and Papa went

down to the local school, where the only track in town was. This is where the race was

to be held. Ida was so excited until she saw the girls from the park all with their parents

warming up for the race. The race was going to start any minute so Ida had to take her

place at the starting line. The person in charge of the race signaled all the racers to start

running. Ida was in the lead having the same thought she had gotten the other day. The

thought where she was floating up to heaven to her Mama’s side. Ida could almost

picture her mama waiting for her. That was when Macy had to come and push Ida.

“Ouch!” Ida screamed. She had just fallen onto the hard earth. She even might have

broken her legs. Right when she thought things couldn’t be worse she saw her mama

smiling down at Ida saying that things would be all right. Ida then got up and started

running as fast as she could even though the pain in her legs was throbbing! Macy

looked back and to her astonishment saw Ida sprinting along the track. Ida was about to

beat Macy. Ida did in fact end up beating Macy and everyone else in the race. She had

won! Papa came running to Ida’s side congratulating her for winning. He also asked how

her legs were and she replied by saying, “This girl named Macy pushed me on purpose

and I landed on the ground. I think my legs might be broken!”
********************************************************************************

**
Ida spent the next couple of weeks in bed. Right after the race Papa had called for the

doctor who was the only one that treated black people. He had said that Ida’s legs were

broken and that she might not ever be able to walk or run on them again. The
doctor had said that there was still hope. If Ida put braces on both of her legs she

could possibly walk like she used to. For the next couple of years Ida got humiliated and

joked about because of her leg braces she wore. That was before a miracle happened and

Ida could finally take her braces off and finally run and walk again. When Ida was older

she changed her first name to Wilma. So now her name is Wilma Rudolph.
********************************************************************************

**
Today Wilma Rudolph is known to be one of the greatest female runners in

America. She is famous world wide. Even though Wilma wore braces on her legs until

she was seventeen years old, she still had hope. She had hope that she could one day run

again.





WOW! bookworm23, that was REALLY good! i think my favorite line from the story was:

The thought where she was floating up to heaven to her Mama’s side.

That was so enchanting! GREAT JOB! :)
BRAVO! :m: :eusa_clap:
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#78 bookworm23

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Posted 01 April 2007 - 02:57 PM

aw. thnx plainjane12! :blush: i'm glad u liked it! :)
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#79 LizzyDarcy

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Posted 07 April 2007 - 06:10 PM

okay then, my mistake.

Here goes.

A few tables down from my dad and I sat three people: a brother, and sister, and their father. A cell phone rang and the father answered. I could tell that he was having problems with the phone and he moved his kids to a table closer to the window and across from our table.

We were similar, my dad and I, their dad and them. None of us were talking, except their dad to whoever was on the other end. They had so much to say but no time to say it, and we had nothing to say with all of the time in the world. I happened to overhear what their dad was saying; it was obviously some “important” call. It sounded like he was a salesman.

“It’s beautiful, the wood paneling and bright coloring. If you want, I’ll have Bob bring it by later. As a matter of fact, I can do it. I’ll be there in say, an hour. Okay great, see you then.” He said.

I caught the eye of the brother and recognized him as Isaac Warner from school. He looked at me and sort of smiled in a sad way. I smiled back in the same way, and we had a sort of conversation, neither of us saying a word and being 12 feet away.

Isaac was very backward at school: lonely, maybe on purpose. He didn’t have a mom, but then… I don’t anymore either.

* * *


It happened fast, in a car accident. They said she didn’t feel any pain, which I guess is supposed to make us feel at ease. Well, make me feel at ease. My dad doesn’t really let on to feeling anything. It was a hit and run, the police were still out looking for the guy who hit her. I cried the first day, but then, I forced my self to stop. There was going to have to be an adult to handle all of this, and apparently it wasn’t going to be my father.

At school, everyone was being weird. Staring at me, pointing me out. It was as if I was the dead one, and not my mother. The teachers were being easy, letting me not do my homework, which is nice I guess. It had left more time for me to plan my mother’s funeral. Even my friends acted differently. I couldn’t stand to eat with them anymore. The awkward silences went from few and far between to monopolizing any hope of conversation. I just picked up a bag of Chex Mix from the line and headed into the bathroom to eat. A bathroom isn’t very appetizing, but the quiet is nice.

About a week after the funeral, and a few days after I saw Isaac with his family, he saw me come out of the bathroom with my trash.

“Hey,” he said, “um, look, sorry about your mom. I’ve been there you know? Well, see you,” and with that he walked away.
It was weird, but somehow seemed natural. He just came up to me as if he had always known me, and yet he had never spoken a word to me until that moment.

“Isaac?” I called back at him, “um, thanks.” He just nodded and smiled that sad smile again.

I didn’t know it then, but this was the beginning of something. I wouldn’t be able to explain it for a long time; I still can’t find the words now, so long after everything has happened.

The bell rang to go to fifth period and I slowly followed my fellows to the academic hallway, stopping at my locker and breathing in deep before sneaking into class a few minutes late. The teacher noticed, but let it go and didn’t care. I had been having “trouble” lately. It was English. I still remember almost everything from senior year even though it was over two years ago.

My English teacher was, well, un-animated. She let everything slide by because she knew she didn’t have to enforce the rules. This was Honors English and no way was she going to do more work than she had to. That being said, I actually liked her. Ms. Bates was interesting, if not lively, and her ability to stay laid back was something I admired. The class basically taught itself, but Ms. Bates was “always here if you need anything at all.” I didn’t usually seek anything from her, but it was nice of her to tell us that she liked us enough to talk to us outside of class.

We read part of The Canterbury Tales the day I met Isaac outside the bathroom. I don’t remember much about it, except, like every other class, it went by so slowly, but every day went so quickly. Next, I had AP Chemistry, that teacher wasn’t nearly so lenient, so I had to be on time.
The rest of the day was a whirlwind. Or maybe it wasn’t, I just can’t remember it.

I do remember that when I got home, my dad was there, with my mom’s mom. She was yelling at him. Trying to figure out why he was being so childish and not taking care of me. I hoped that she wouldn’t be too hard on him, but I also hoped she would punish him. Just because Mom was gone, didn’t mean he had no family.

I slipped past the two arguing and made the long trek down the hallway, past my parents’ empty bedroom to mine. The brightness of my room was a charade, for I felt nothing but numb. The therapist would say that it was normal. I felt anything but. Music couldn’t bring me out of my cocoon like it used to. My guitar leaned against the wall idly, and my stereo sat collecting dust.

As I lay on my bed, thinking about everything and about absolutely nothing, Isaac popped into my scattered brain. His vast height seemed mountainous, though he couldn’t be more than 6 foot two or three. He had a short, shaggy kind of hair cut that just covered the tips of his ears. And his eyes, I remember, were just the shade of blue that the ocean turns under a starry midnight. When he had looked at me that afternoon, as I came out of the bathroom, it seemed like he really did know exactly how I felt. If I would have had more time, I probably would have let loose right then, and told him everything. But that would come later.

“Rachael,” someone called to me and knocked on my door. How long had it been since I came home? For a moment I forgot about everything that had happened in the last weeks and expected my mother to come in to my room and ask me what was wrong. The moment passed and my grandma stepped into my room. It was May, but she held out a cup of hot coco for me. She always brought me coco when I was little and didn’t feel well. The feel of being a child again was so good to me. I remember the simplicity of childhood. Parents didn’t die. The biggest deal was who I had to share my crayons with.

Grandma brushed the hair out of my face and kissed my forehead.

“I’m going to stay here with you for a while, in the house. Your dad needs some help. He’s going to go away for a while and I’m going to take care of you.” She spoke as if I really were a child. But I understood all the same. Dad was giving up on me.

He had already left when Grandma came into my room. Tired of being responsible, tired of seeing an eighteen-year-old who looked exactly like a woman who was healthy and happy only twelve days earlier? Or just tired of being told that he needed to take care of that eighteen-year-old?

I hid my face in Grandma’s arms. Did my father blame me for Mom’s death? Did he hate me? I didn’t want my father to hate me. It was an accident. No one’s fault, except that stupid other driver they still hadn’t found. She was just going to pick up some things for dinner. I asked her to make my favorite meal to celebrate my acceptance to NYU. Does that make it my fault? I can’t answer that. I don’t know how to answer that without crying.

I can’t cry right now. I’ll save that for later.

“Grandma, I need to go to sleep now.” I told her. It was 8:00 and she knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Thankfully, she understood and let me be alone. Being alone was probably the last thing I should have been…

To my own surprise, I did fall asleep. I woke up as my alarm clock blared and I was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Getting up was the worst part of everyday. It meant I had to face the world one more day; I had to be strong one more time. Then I would go to bed, get up and have to do it all over again. The pain was unbearable, but I had to bear it.

The principal told me that, if I wished, I could miss school for a few days. I stayed home only one day, the day after the accident. But I knew that if I really wanted to go to NYU, I would have to stick it out and go to school. I had scholarships to fill out and finals in just a few weeks. No way was I going to give up, no matter how much I wanted to.

So I got up, like I always did. I changed clothes and I cautiously drove to school. I didn’t care much about my appearance anymore. Sweats and a t-shirt became usual fare for a girl who once wore skirts every other day. Make-up was a bother and I just threw my hair into a ponytail. My car smelled like my mother. I had spilt her favorite perfume in it when I bought her a bottle for mother’s day the year before. I breathed in deep, and fought back tears. I will not cry, I thought, I always thought.

I parked my car in the back of the senior lot. The walk was quiet and the cool morning was refreshing. As I slowly made my way to the front doors, 20 minutes before school would start, I saw someone familiar sitting in his car with the window rolled down.

“Isaac…?” He just looked at me. I felt unwanted, so I kept on walking, feeling kind of rejected, even though I hadn’t asked anything of him.

“Rachael,” he spoke to me as I passed his car. “Come over here.”
What? I wanted to talk to him. I didn’t know why but I felt like I could tell him anything and he would listen. I didn’t think he would actually want to talk to me. But I wanted to talk to him, and risk being looked at like a fool. But maybe it would be good for me. I could vent and then forget everything, right?

“Sit down.” I must have looked at me like I was crazy, because then he said “in the passenger seat…” So I sat down. Not knowing what to expect, I was silent.

“This isn’t something I do. I don’t normally talk to people I hardly know. But you need someone to talk to, I can tell. I want you to tell me everything. And when you’re done, you’ll feel better. It’s like that ‘pay it forward’ stuff. When my mom died, someone was there to listen. So I’m going to pay back an old friend and listen to you.”

At first I was so shocked I didn’t say anything. He looked at me, and I looked at him. But soon, the silence was more painful than anything that could have embarrassed me later and I spilled. Everything. I told him things I had never told anyone. That I felt that it was my fault my mom died. That I was afraid my father hated me. That I just wanted an easy way out, I wanted to quit everything so badly. I just talked and talked and talked and he listened. It was as if he weren’t there, I was talking to my self, venting to myself. He was silent, but he listened to every word I said.

I felt the car move and he interrupted me to tell me to put my seat belt on. “What? No, I have to go to school…” I freaked out, I hardly knew this person, and I was going to ride in his car with him?

“Relax. No one will care that you aren’t there, and I don’t care that I’m not. I’m just going to drive around for a while. You have nothing to worry about. Just talk.” He tried to reassure me, but it didn’t work. This was not how the world worked. People don’t do this, they don’t just drive people around and listen to them talk about everything that’s going wrong in their life. But he did.

Soon, I was crying uncontrollably. Apparently, my sobbing was a distraction to his driving, because he pulled to the side of what seemed through my blurry vision to be a country road. I leaned into him, not really knowing what I was doing, just needing someone’s shoulder to cry on. How clichéd it seems now.

To my surprise, he looked at me, brushed my hair out of my eyes, and held me close, giving me the sort of hug I had been needing for months. It wasn’t a romantic sort of moment. It happened more out of his feeling sorry for me, I think. Remembering, if I had been remotely normal at that moment, I probably would have melted out of pure excitement. But I didn’t, and on the quiet country road, I could only hear the radio tuned to the lowest volume and feel the steady beating of his heart.

We sat there, in his car, for a while. Maybe it was ten minutes, maybe half an hour. The time passed slowly and my tears began to dry. It was time to go home. Grandma would be there, and even though I should be at school she would welcome me in with warm cookies and ask me how my day was. I loved that about her. She was always welcoming and never condescending. She spoke to you as if you were the most important person in the world, and that she would be so proud just to be compared to you. People need that sort of self-esteem boost every once in a while.

That Saturday was my first day back at work since the accident. My boss, Frank, had known my mother. At the funeral he told me to take a few weeks off. I had taken one week. Too much of nothing is just as bad of too much of something. (Where did I hear that?) He was surprised to hear from me so soon, but welcomed me back with open arms. This would be my last summer before I left for NYU. After working at the jewelry store for 3 years, I had become a pretty good salesperson, but a great housekeeper. Not so much as one smudge would survive my crazed Windex-ing. I walked in, picked up the storage box from the safe and automatically began putting the jewelry in the case. I couldn’t help but smile at all the beautiful diamonds, and the store in the summer was rarely busy, but always relaxing.

The slow day at the store went remarkably fast. I kept myself busy with dusting and vacuuming. Occasionally, a customer would come in to say hello to Frank, or to get a battery in his watch changed. We waited on them, and Frank was careful not to say too much to me, for fear I would break down. I probably wouldn’t have, but he wasn’t sure he could handle it if I did.

At noon I walked down the street to the little restaurant and ordered two cheeseburgers and two small drinks to-go for my boss and I. The woman at the register gave me the cups and I took two steps to the drink fountain, filling my cup with Sprite, and my boss’ with Diet Coke. An older man stood next to me, dumping cream in his coffee. He said hello to me, and I said hello and smiled back, trying my hardest to be friendly. I walked back to my usual table to wait for the food. The man stood by my table and smiled with all twelve of his teeth.

“A-are you g-going with anybody?” He asked.
I froze unsure what to say,

“Um… I’m at work I have to go…” He didn’t step out of my way. Obviously, I would have to answer him. And it looked as though I would have to lie.

“Y-yes, I’m going with someone.” I could feel my cheeks burn, and I had never been so scared in my life. Too many things had I heard about rape and abductions to laugh it off like I should have. I realized that I had forgotten lids for the drinks and walked back to the fountain, thankful for my absentmindedness. A man and his wife were seated kitty-corner from my table. The man had a long, white, furry beard that was somehow reassuring. As if Santa had taken holiday to watch over me. He gave me a strong nod, as if to tell me that I had said the right thing. I breathed in deep and took a step. The strange man was gone when I got back to my table, but he came back a few minutes later. I quickly got out my cell phone, because Santa and Mrs. Claus had left. I started pushing buttons, hoping that the man would think I was talking to someone. He walked right passed me to fill up his coffee once more.

I heard the bell on the door ring, and glanced up, hoping for a familiar face. I was lucky, it was Isaac. He saw me, and bypassed the line to sit down next to me. I smiled wide enough that it hurt, so happy to see him. The man came back from getting his coffee and looked at Isaac.

“Is that your boyfriend?” He asked me. Once again, I was speechless. But this time, if I lied, not only would I be uncomfortable, but so would Isaac. Before I could answer, Isaac did for me.

“Yes, I am.” For those three words I am forever grateful.

The rest of the school year passed quickly. My finals were relatively simple and I had new inspiration for the last minute scholarship essays. There is a lot to talk about if you’ve just lost a parent, maybe two. Isaac was always by my side. He kept me going when I wanted to quit more than I have ever wanted anything. He saved my life in so many ways: from that time at the restaurant, to countless other days when I desperately wanted to end my own life. He kept me strong enough to face another day.

One Friday night, about three weeks before I left for NYU, Isaac was supposed to come over, and we were going to have a movie marathon. He promised me that if we watched his two favorite movies: Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and James Bond: Goldfinger this week, then next week we could watch Titanic, Pride and Prejudice, and A Knight’s Tale. It was 9:26, and Isaac was fifty-six minutes late. The phone rang, and I picked up right away. It was Isaac’s sister Margot. We had never talked much, so I wondered why she was calling.

“Margot?” I asked. She was crying. “What’s that matter?”

“It’s Isaac Rachael. He’s in a coma.” My heart stopped.

“What? I don’t understand…”

“He was in an accident. Some drunk guy smashed his car into a tree. Rachael, you need to get to the hospital. Our dad, he’s out of town, and Isaac needs you. I know how much he cares about you, and I know he wouldn’t be here if not for you.” Again, I was confused.

“What do you mean? He’s the one who-

“No. Before you two started talking, he had been seeing a therapist. He was suicidal. Just get down here, please. He’ll want to see you if—when he wakes up.” She hung up and I heard a dial tone.

“Grandma,” I called, “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back soon okay?” I grabbed my keys and ran out of the house, my vision blurry with tears. The drive to the hospital was the longest fifteen minutes of my life. It’s hard to believe I had even been able to get in my car, the cause of all my pain. Upon arriving at the hospital, I went to reception and asked for Isaac’s room, but Margot spotted me first and directed me there.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the room. I braced myself to see him in a dire state, but that wasn’t the case. He looked peaceful. He was sleeping. My tears streamed down my face, and I no longer struggled to hold them back. My head suddenly weighed 50 pounds, so I slunk down to my knees and lay my forehead on his blue hospital sheets.

“Isaac,” I pleaded. “What’re you doing? Wake up. Why don’t you just wake up?”

After the longest night of my life, Isaac woke up. He was conscious just long enough to see his sister and I standing there, and to smile.

“I’m sorry.” he said. Sorry for what? I wondered, you’re awake!

He slipped back into a deep sleep, and then, at 2:39, Isaac Warner flat lined. I later learned that Isaac eventually died after being hit by the same drunk driver who had killed my mother, but this time, they caught him.

All my life I’ve had trouble getting over death. It seemed like whoever controlled it had doled me out an extra, unwanted portion. I didn’t think I could handle life after that year. But somehow I managed, and I have Isaac to thank for that. He taught me that life is unpredictable, and that if you are happy while you’re here, then it will all be worth while. So far, even with all the pain, it has been.
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#80 ~book_worm~13

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Posted 17 April 2007 - 05:38 PM

I had heard of the club and decided to go. It was an under 18 club and my friends and I needed loud music and a crowded room to relieve some of our stress.
After slipping into miniskirts and cute tops we were driven to the club.
While waiting in line we entertained ourselves by flirting with the boys around us.
Once inside I headed for the middle of the dance floor.
**
A friend of mine had told me he had met his girlfriend at this cool under 18-dance club. He dragged me along when they decided to go again. Not that I protested, the loud music would be good for me. Kyle drove us and when we got there I couldn’t help but notice a pretty girl wearing a mini skirt flirting timidly in line.
Something about her made me smile.
**
Kelly wanted to hang out at the “bar” but I went straight to the dance floor. The heavy beat of the music was intoxicating. I made my way to the middle of all the people.
I moved my body to the music, barely noticing the other bodies around me. The music poured through me. I danced my bad week away.
**
Kyle and his girlfriend stayed in the back of the club, Shelby (his girlfriend) was prone to head aches. I thought it was kind of weird that she liked this club then.
I made my way to the middle of the dance floor.
I saw the girl from the line dancing, she made me smile again. Was it the fact that she wasn’t wearing a skimpy shirt like the rest of her friends? Was it the fact that she danced like there was no one around her, even though there were people bumping into her constantly? I wasn’t sure, but I made my way towards her.
**
At first I didn’t even notice the boy dancing in front of me. I took a step toward him, someone pushed him towards me.
I was inches away from this stranger, but some how I felt safe.
I danced with him. Our bodies were close and I could feel the heat coming from his skin.
**
We danced and danced. WE didn’t know each other, but slowly we began to feel like old friends. I was an hour till midnight, an hour till closing.
I still didn’t know her name.
Yet, I felt attached to her. I felt that when we parted I would feel a part of me leaving with her.
The beginning of a slow song began to pour through the speakers.
**
I danced close to him. He felt friend, someone I was very close to.
The club would be closing in an hour. I didn’t want this to end. I felt like I would break if I ever left him, whoever he was. His eyes looked at me, but I didn’t feel as if I were being examined.
**
I looked softly down at her. Beautiful eyes, defined yet soft jaw, and a small mouth, her lips red even without lip stick.
I leaned down and my lips found the soft skin of her cheek.
**
His mouth was warm on my cheek. They moved from that spot, towards my ear.
His hands took my wrists gently and brought them down from around his shoulders where they had found themselves at the beginning of the slow song. I felt something circular being pressed into my palm.
His breath was warm against my ear as he whispered into it. “My name is engraved on the inside of this ring.”
Without looking down he slipped the ring onto my pointer finger.
The metal was cool.
**
After giving her my plain silver ring her hands flet mine and she reached up to her neck. I saw her unclasp a small gold locket necklace. She brought it to my neck and clasped it around my neck. Then on tip toes she lightly kissed my cheek then moved her mouth to my ear.
“My name is in the locket.” Her voice was sweet and soft.
**
The song was ending and I saw Kelly coming towards me.
I didn’t want to leave him, whoever he was.
But the last chords of the song were leaking from the speakers.
**
Kyle was waving at me, telling me to come on.
I looked at the girl in front of me. Her eyes met mine. We both knew we had to go. I squeezed her hand and slowly stepped away.
**
We walked in opposite directions.
“Who was that?’ Kelly asked me.
“I don’t know.”
**
She was on my mind as we drove away.
I fingered the locket, then finally unclasped it and fit my finger nail between the sides.
It popped open.
**
I was fingering the loose silver ring on the way home.
He was the focus of my thoughts.
I slipped the ring off my finger and tilted it so that I could see the engraved letters.
**
Will I ever see you again?
**
The end.
**
**********************

Hope you liked it...

:icon_flower: Yz

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#81 beeizzle

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Posted 18 April 2007 - 01:27 PM

Oh My God.

LizzieDarcy and Book-Worm, Your storys were both SOSOSOSOSOSO good!

I might write one soonish..

Well done!!

Bee! :mgbumblebee:
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#82 beeizzle

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Posted 23 April 2007 - 12:56 PM

Dear Mum.

24th April 2006.
That date is carved into my mind, piercing its way through my memories.
24th April, 2006.
The Year of Mum, we call it.
It's been hard to except, It's been hard to let go.
I'm sorry i haven't spoken in a while.
I dont think you understand the guilt.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
Dad keeps telling me It's not my fault.
But it is, It is.
If only i wasnt such a brat. If only I wasnt so needy. If only.

And it's all because of me the whole thing happened.
I just expected you to be ready to pick me up from Keisha's, even though you had planned to go out with dad that night.
But you werent allowed to have a life. You were my MOTHER, for christ's sake.
I was the one who should have been going out to parties, to gigs, to sleepovers.
You were just supposhed to send me on my way. But you DIDNT.
we fought constantly. I accused you of ruining my life, on average, 10 times a week. I had fits, sometimes I wouldnt eat at the table with you, dad, and Tamar. I could hear you yelling at dad, "She's only 14 for gods sake Robert, she's not 21!"
I thought you just wanted me to suffer. You constantly doubted my choice of clothing, accent, even music.
I thought I hated you.

I remember that evening so well. After we ate, I sat down with Tamar, showing off my newly bought skirt and tanktop. I had some strappy gold high heels on, and felt amazing. Then you came in.
"Lou, If you're planning to wear that, I swear I'll scream blue murder"
I whipped round "Why dont you like it? Is the skirt to short? Does it show over 2 centimetres of my stomach? are my shoes to slapperish?"
"Yes" You replied simply, but before i had a chance to yell back, you said, "You cant go anyway"
"What?" I yelled
"Me and your father are going out. You need to baby sit Tamar"
"She's 10! She's old enough to look after herself!" I shouted, even though i knew Tamar wasnt. She even got scared of the shadows that the W2 bus created against her wall.
We had a huge fight. I could see Tamar chew her toy rabbits ear, eyes fixed on the TV, though i knew she was listening to everyword.
Eventually, You dropped Tamar off at next-door, and waited with me for Alana's dad to pick me up.
I could feel your daggers on me when the doorbell rang, and i said breezily, "Pickups at 10 tonight okay? Love you" and jumped into the car.

So Keisha's party came and went. After much giggling, photo taking and general *%^##ing, I sat down next to Keisha and began to watch a movie.
10 came and went. 10:30 speeded past. The movie ended, and Keisha turned to me.
"Lou, you know that i love you here and everything, but my parents are getting back soon, and they expect everyone gone, and the place clean"
I helped clean up, and when it was 11:40, Keisha's parents came back.
"Wheres you're Mum love?" Keisha's mum asked.
I shrugged, seething inside.
Finally at midnight, Keisha's dad dropped me off on my road. I walked up to the house, fuming with rage. You just FORGOT? you just FORGOT about your daughter? angrily i had images of you and dad, sitting drinking and laughing, while i was stuck at keishas.
I jammed my key into the lock and entered, yelling "YOU JUST FORGOT?" but i was greeted to an empty household, apart from my auntie Karen, who was crying.
"Come. Now" she blubbed, and dragged me into the car.
I sat there, In silence, listening to the etchy radio as we drove on a rainy dark moterway.
"Karen, whats going on?"
Auntie K just sped up.
I sighed, and began to tell her about the party, and when i got to the bit about Mum forgetting, Karen breaked so fast we skidded across the road.
"Jesus Karen, are you trying to Kill me?"
"No you Ungreatful little..." She screeched, and hit her head on the wheel, moaning.
"K..Karen?"
"Your Mum is DYING Louise" Karen spat. "She's DYING. because she rushed to pick you up. Robert tried to stop her running out into the road, but she was already late and knew you would be waiting. Then that bus came, and she didn't have any time to stop. It hit her. And now she's in a hospital, fighting for her life, because her ungreatful daughter couldnt organize a Lift home!"

The hospital. I remember it well. You were there, Mum. All pale and had cuts. Dad sat their, with a crying Tamar in his arms. He didnt even look at me when i entered, he was just rocking slowly back and forth.
"M.mmum?" i whispered. I fell to my knees and cried. I cried so much that i felt thirsty inside.
at 2:30, 24th April 2006, Dad decided to let you die.
He went to talk to some doctors, and when he came back, He looked at me and Tamar and shook his head. They said you werent responding. The only thing keeping you alive was that stupid life support. He had to sign some papers. He didnt have a pen.
Slowly, Tamar lifted up her purple crayon she had been drawing with. We followed, and watched as he signed away your life, and we stood and watched as the nurses cut off your machine.
As soon as that final long, dreaded BEEP happened, Dad fell to his knees, Sobbing.
"Oh no. Michelle, my love, my one and only. No!" He said hysterically, planting your face in a million kisses.
Tamar buried her head into my knee, clinging onto my leg, moaning.
And all i could think about was that I had killed you. I had killed my own mother. And that I was thinking about how Dad was kissing your corspe.
The corpse I had made.

The next few months were horrible. I lost contact with my friends, I stopped going to school. I didnt want to do anything. I couldnt feel. I stayed in my room and cried until my sheets were drenched in salty tears. Tamar came and saw me, and we would lie there together, clinging onto eachother.
The funeral came. I didnt want to speak about you, so others did. They praised you, they talked about all the wonderful things you did. But all i could remember was that we fought.
I went and looked at the coffin. I traced the engravings with my fingers. I felt so many different emotions. I loved you. I missed you. I hated you. Yes, I hated my dead mother. How could you have let me treat you that way? Why did you have to leave? I needed you more then ever, and you just went and acted so carelessly? I started to punch the coffin. I yelled and swore and attacked it with all my might. Dad had to remove me. I punched him aswell and we both collapsed in eachothers arms, crying.
What was going to happen now?

Well, It's been a year on Mum. I hope your well.
In July, after your death, Dad sent me to a berevement specialist. He helped me deal with my feelings, especially that i thought i had killed you.
Eventually, I began to get my life back.
Now I have Keisha and everybody back. They all felt so bad for me, cried for me, prayed for me. I still go out with them, just not as much and not as late. Dad likes to joke that the only good thing that came from your death.
But other things came too. Tamar decided to act her age, and became fiesty and independant. Alot like me, actually. The other day, I saw her fighting with Dad about how short her skirt was, and i swear i had Deja Vu.
I got a boyfriend. Jacob. He understands, and Is the one who persuaded me to write to you.
We've grown so much, you should be here.
But you're not. And it still hits home. when i thought of you before, I felt so guilty and hated myself and you. But now, I think about the good things we did together. How you were always there for me. My memories of you are so crystal clear. So are Tamar's. We sometimes sit in your walk in closet, smelling your perfume and touching your clothes, remenising on you.
For my freedom of speech day, I stood up and told everyone about you. How i hated you, but when i lost you, felt so unsure of myself, and how your love made me grow. when people were applauding, tears dripping down their cheeks, i thought i saw you standing at the back, a huge smile on your face.

I love you Mum.
I always have.
I always Will.


------------------------------

Bee :mgbumblebee:
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#83 bookworm23

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Posted 03 May 2007 - 08:38 PM

Title: The Other Life
Rating: PG
Plot: A teenage girl goes to live with her long lost Father for the summer.

Chapter 1

I stared at the letter. How could this ever happen? And why me? Why did my father, after 10 years, finally decide to get in touch with me? I opened the letter, timidly. I noticed there was no return address. Hmm, i thought, I wonder why.

When I opened the letter I couldn't believe my eyes. The letter said that he had re-married, had two kids, and was living in California. It also asked me if I wanted to come and visit for the summer. Wow, mother is going to be so mad. She has tried her whole life to keep me away from my father. And whenever I bring the topic of "Father" up she immediately changes the subject. I also couldn't believe he was living in California, when I lived in Florida. That's so far away, and the fact he had 2 kids. I wonder what they are like, and if his family even knows about me!

I decided to go to Mother about this. She would know what to do. She always does. I went into the living room where she was sitting, reading. She looked up when I came into the room. She could tell something was wrong by the look on my face. Immediately I told her everything and I showed her the letter. But amazingly she wasn't mad or surprised. She actually admitted she knew this was coming. She said she thought it would be okay if I went to Father's house for the summer.

Okay, this was all too weird. Mother was supposed to be mad and irritated and Father wasn't even supposed to be in touch with me. I decided to call my friend Mac. He would help me come up with a logical answer to this.



Should I keep going?

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#84 Ari-san

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Posted 04 May 2007 - 05:20 AM

Heya!

Just a reminder that this is the Short Story Corner. If you wish to have chapters and write a longer story, please create a thread for your story, as the pieces here are generally one-shots.

Many thanks!

ali :D
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#85 sirena

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Posted 06 May 2007 - 09:03 AM

Warning: Mature Audiences only.

“Christie… Come on out Christie…”

I cringed and squeezed my little body deeper into the small dark closet. But it was no use. I could still hear the crescendo of his footsteps. He was coming…


“Christie!”

I blinked and woke abruptly out of the nightmare. I noticed I was holding my breath, as if expecting something to happen.

“Christie! Get down here!”

I stood up, slinging my haversack over my shoulder and climbed down the stairs, silent as usual. It was a habit I had adapted to over the years, one developed for the sole purpose of avoiding Him.

I peeped through the gap between the mahogany doors and saw my foster mother carrying a blood-stained knife.

Funny it should seem familiar. But it did. It seemed very, very familiar.

“Christie! Come out now or I’ll cane you!”

Liar. He would do it if I came out anyway.

“Come out Christie, Daddy’s got chocolates for you!”

Liar. He would more probably give me poison.

“CHRISTIE!” he screeched.

I gripped the handle of the knife tighter, my knuckles turning white.

It would end.

Soon.


“Christie, your lunch is on the table. Pay attention to the lessons for once.”

“Yes ma,” I replied tonelessly.

I grabbed the paper bag containing my lunch and proceeded to school.

First lesson was biology. We were divided into groups and each group had to dissect a hamster and label the parts. Lucky me, we got the craziest guy in our class in the group. Jason picked up the scalpel and plunged it right through the poor hamster’s heart.

It’s amazing how fast a human can die if you put a really sharp knife through the right part of the human heart.

I climbed out of the closet, stood up and stared straight ahead, focusing my concentration on the yellow door.

In only mere seconds, He would open the door.

But this time, I’ll be ready.


School passed in a frenzied blur.

Soon it was time to go home. I detoured and walked to the beach.

It was late and the sun was already setting. I sat down on the bench, staring at the swirl of colours in the sky. Red, orange, yellow.

Red the colour of blood.

Orange the colour of the shirt he wore.

Yellow the colour of the tiled floor.

The door burst open.

“For disobeying me, that would be 20 whips of the cane! Come here!” He bellowed.

I stared at him defiantly, hiding the knife behind my back, thinking of using the element of surprise.

“What’s wrong with you, girl! Move!” He ordered.

I stood my ground.

“Acting tough, aren’t we? We’ll see about that!” He sneered and lunged forward at me.

It all happened in that split second.

I whipped out the knife and plunged it straight through His heart.

His eyes registered fury for a moment, but He faltered and fell to the ground.

Dead.

I had killed my father.

He lay on the yellow tiled floor, wearing his standard orange tee, red blood slowly staining his shirt. A mass of red, orange and yellow.

For a young girl, I had foresight. I wiped all traces of his blood off the floor and wrapped his body in black plastic and called my friends over to play a game: “Dragging the plastic bag into the backyard and burying it”.


I was sent from foster home to foster home, my father’s disappearance a mystery. I remember having nightmares every night for a few months.

It got better. I started to overcome my fears.

After a few years, the memories faded away; but from time to time, I'll remember faintly how I had killed my torturer.
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#86 bookworm23

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Posted 06 May 2007 - 07:14 PM

blah.
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#87 bookworm23

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Posted 06 May 2007 - 07:17 PM

^ wow, that was a creepy, and good story! gosh, i'm at a loss for words.
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#88 Fat.Louie.Rox

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Posted 08 May 2007 - 08:09 PM

this is really short and i dont think its actually good but, my family and friends says it is ao ill post it

Title: Small Boy Huge Village
Genre: fiction

Once upon a time there was a little boy whose name was Lance Long Marshall.Lance Long Marshall is a little boy in a huge village.He loves his home in the village, but he was sad to.He only lived with his mom,and he loved his mother,his brother,his dad,his sister,his nana,and his papa he was very lonely and very sad.But one day something happened, all his family moved in with him,then he was very happy,and was not very lonely.So he hugged his family for fifteen minutes over and over again.He started to work better, and he worked with a smile on his face.But his brother got cancer,he had been in the hospital for several months,it was very sad.But then something happy happened,his brother didn't die,and he came home from the hospital,Lance was very happy.
Then his mother had twins,she had two girls,their names were ashley and nicole.Then one day Lance got a call from the doctor,he said,"Your mother and sisters can't come home till two days pass.He kept on asking his dad,''When can mother come home?''His dad said,''I don't know right now,she and the twins are sick.'' ''Why can't u just call someone and tell them to go to the hospital and take care of here?'' ''We are trying to get them better ,but we can't find someone to take care of them.So Lance I can't just zap someone in there,its not like that Lance.''I'm sorry'',said Lance.''I'm sorry too'',said his dad.''Okay we are friends again'',said Lance.The day after the fight the mother and the twins got better,Lance was very happy.IT WAS A MIRACLE!


Please tell me the truth about this

~KK~ :love7:
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#89 Lannfo75

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Posted 11 May 2007 - 02:44 PM

For This Moment


"Stop poking me!" I hear Marissa whine from where I was across the table.


"Oh, please," Ian says, "Don't be such a baby." Then in one swift motion, I feel the movement under the table and the sound of Marissa's foot hitting his knee. Watching Ian, I see the pain etch itself across his face and a smile protruding underneath that frown, "Will you just stop it?" It wasn't a serious question, just one that resulted in several more series of dirty jokes, kicking, and other gestures between them. I know the cycle and it happens everyday at lunch. This time wasn't any different.



Rolling my eyes, I glance over at Dara, who makes a face back at me. Dara and I always understand each other and I could see it in her face that she too was annoyed about the constant bickering. It wasn't mean bickering neccesarily, it was more like extreme teasing or stuff that could be hurtful, but only if from another person. Marissa and Ian kid around a lot.



That's why to entertain ourselves through this back and forth game, we exchange funny faces to get our minds off what was going on before our eyes-and our lunch: Marissa and Ian falling more in love with each other every day and the constant flirting that erupted whenever they came in contact with each other.



This has been kind of like our routine ever since Marissa met Ian. It's so strange because I can't remember how they met or when Marissa introduced him to everybody; he just appeared out of nowhere it seemed. One week it was just Marissa, Dara, and I, the next it was the three of us, plus Ian. It was a shock for Dara and me when it first happened, but now, we just try to get through each day one at a time and see Ian for who he really is, an actually nice guy. (I know, surprise, surprise!) And to tell you the truth, I've sort of always had a little crush on him. The way his short blonde hair sometimes sticks up randomly throughout the day and the cute way he runs his hand through it when he's nervous, causing it to stick up more disasterly than before.



Suddenly, the bell rings, interrupting my thoughts and there was shuffling to get to class. Marissa stands up and flashs a smile in Ian's direction, waving good-bye. Dara turns my way and raises her eyebrows at me, while I make a gagging motion with my hands. She walks away, chuckling to herself, Marissa at her side. (They're both in the same Chemistry class.)



Surprisingly, I see Marissa turn around and call out, "Bye Gabby!" I wave and she turns around, her flat ironed hair whipping around, sticking back where it was the previous seconds before.



The crowd dies down and for once, the table is quiet with just Ian and me sitting across from each other. Ian tries to start his Geometry packet now, which he was interrupted from finishing because of Marissa. I watch him as he does so.



I stare at him while he sits there, hunched over his work, eyebrows creased. I notice that he's struggling.



"Need some help?" I offer half-heartedly, (but only because I hate Geometry; it has nothing to do with him.) He pushes the packet my way and I take a look. Whoa.



"Actually, no can do. Sorry," I say,handing the packet back. He laughs.



"Understandable." As he continues staring at the page, I take a seat right next to him.



"But it doesn't hurt to try," I add, "though I certainly don't want to."



"Yeah, I guess so," Ian says doubtfully, "I could use all the help I can get." I grab my pencil and lean over, brushing Ian's knee by accident.



"Sorry," I say, a blush erupting over my cheeks. I feel myself getting hotter and hotter with embarrassment, causing me to fumble with my pencil nervously, which falls. When I lean down to pick it up from the floor, I find myself in Ian's lap. Weird, huh? My cheeks, I'm sure, are now a bright crimson and it feels like my lungs are all choked up; I can't breathe.



Why am I acting like this? Ian's just a guy, a guy who I don't even like, or do I? I mean, he and Marissa are kind of together and she clearly likes him, meaning that Ian's off limits. I probably shouldn't even be thinking about this right now. Okay, I need some fresh air. It'll make me feel better. Clear my head a bit.



"I-I'll be right back," I mumble and walk right out of there, toward the back of the school. Apparently not all kids have this block open (meaning that during this class period, they don't have class) because there weren't a lot of them roaming around like they normally do. That's good, it gives me a chance to relax in peace and think about what happened back there. I lean against the brick wall of the school, taking deep breaths. Suddenly, I hear footsteps and turn around, coming face to face with Ian.



"Who's watching our stuff?" I inquire.



"Oh, Ava sat down when you left and said she'll watch it for while. She was cool with it," Ian says, looking at me curiously.



"Okay," I say lamely. My legs are feeling like they might give way beneath me, so I sink down onto a flat rock nearby. Perfect, at least I feel more stable now. Ian follows; definitely not what I planned. We are so close, I'm able to see the color of his eyes, which are a hazel, swirled with greens and browns.



"So, is something bothering you?" He questions. I'm so nervous, that I could hear my heart pounding; I'm sure Ian could too. But I'm so immersed in his eyes, that my brain can't seem to function. Even though I try to tear my eyes away from his, I find myself not being able to stop staring into them, as though I'm hypnotized. Yes, I think it's safe to say now that I have somehow become wildly attracted to this guy. Another thing I totally didn't have planned.



I finally manage to find muster up enough brain cells and answer him. "No, everything's fine," I lie.



We sit like that, staring at each other for some time. I clear my throat nervously and the next thing I know, our lips collide. But we don't break apart, instead, it leads into more kissing. I put my arms over his shoulders and and his hands are in my hair, raking through the strands, (though I don't know how it came undone, it was in a ponytail before). By now, we're both lying on top of each other, or actually, he's lying on top of me, his hands inching toward the hem of my shirt.



Just as I'm about to panic, (I've never done this much kissing before) I hear the faint sound of the bell ringing, signaling our open is over. Ian immediately gets off of me and shyly grabbing my hand, leads me toward to the nearest entrance. Right before we enter, he turns to me and squeezes my hand. His sad hazel eyes bore into mine silently, telling me that we can never act upon impulse again. It will be too damaging to Ian and Marissa's friendship (or budding romance, take your pick) and me and Marissa's friendship.



That's why, the next day at lunch, I sit there at the table gloomily, watching everything unfold. This time, more than ever, I feel like an outsider, no matter how many funny faces Dara and I exchange throughout lunch. Ian and I will never have a chance, isn't it like an unspoken rule that if your one of your best friends likes this guy, that he's off limits? And I think there's another one that states even if they aren't together because they broke up (not that Marissa and Ian aren't exactly…well, they have a weird relationship) then you still can't go out with them?



No matter how cute Ian is or how amazingly good he is a kissing, or even how much he makes all shaky whenever he is around, I will never be able to feel his arms around me again and the way his kisses feel on my lips. Period. All I'll have left is the memories. And for now, those will have to do.





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#90 X.Kiki_Kiss.X

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Posted 12 May 2007 - 09:56 AM

More than Just a Big Brother

The road was empty… very empty. And so was her mind. Just days ago, she had so many things to think of… how terrible her life was, how lonely she was and how she was hated. But now, her mind was just empty. She really didn't know what to think of. Her best friend was now her big brother and she had a real family; a family just like the one she always wanted but still there was something wrong. Something she couldn't quiet explain. Something she just couldn't put her fingers on… so she just decided to ignore it and continued looking out her window at the empty road.

There was a long silence; a very long silence. She looked at the digital clock on the table just centimetres away from her. It read '7:30 PM'. If she was back at her huge mansions right now, there would be party music and laughter everywhere. Another one of her uncle's 'grown-up parties'. The ones she always hated. But here in this house, things were quiet different. It was so silent and peaceful everywhere until she heard someone knocking on her door.

In this house, she couldn't think of many people who would have knocked on her bedroom door as the choices were really low. It could have either been one of her two foster brothers, her foster mother or father – but he wasn't home now so she decided to scratch that. The idea of her two best friends Miley and Mitchell Evans came in her head but that was impossible. They didn't even know what was happening during the summer holidays as they were too busy having fun in Hawaii with their parents while she was stuck in Los Angeles.

"Come in!" she said in a low whisper hoping that whoever it was who had knocked on her door would think that she was asleep and leave. No such luck. The door slowly creaked open revealing a raven-haired boy of about her age. It was her foster-brother Zane. He was a handsome thirteen-year-old boy with deep blue eyes and a whole lot of knowledge in that head of his. She secretly smiled at the sight of him; he always made it to lighten up her mood.

He stood there in his blue jeans and black T-Shirt, a funny look on his face. You could clearly tell that he wasn't happy with what he was seeing. He was a guy who always looked at the bright side of everything and people who were never happy got him really annoyed.

"Spill." was his first word.

The blond girl sitting by the window raised an eyebrow at him. "Spill what?" she asked even though she clearly knew what he was talking about. They had been the best friends since they started school and now they were siblings. They had almost grown up together and she knew exactly what he meant when he just stood there with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a big frown on his face.

Zane rolled his eyes at her before he just walked up to her and sat beside her, "Something's bothering you right? What is it? You know you can tell me." He said in a confident tone. That was one thing she truly hated about him… he was so confident in everything. And it wasn't the fact that he was so confident, it was just the thing that she wasn't!

"No! I mean what should be bothering me, huh? My life is perfect… just perfect. I've got everything I need. My room is completely pink. I don't have to live with a thousand and butlers anymore… so what could be wrong?" then she suddenly stopped, feeling very embarrassed. "I sound like an idiot right now… don't I?" she asked.

"I'm… not really sure if you want to hear my answer you know," Zane answered with lots of difficulty. "But something IS bothering you Alex, so what is it?" he asked again.

She pretended to glare at him. No one – not even he – was allowed to call her Alex… never. But then again, she was in a loss of emotions right now so pretending to be angry wouldn't help. She sighed before she answered. "You know, I kind of never imagined that I would be here one day" she said. For Mitchell's ears, she would be speaking in riddles right now but Zane knew exactly what she meant but still couldn't control himself.

"You mean in an extremely pink room with so many Hilary Duff posters stuck on the walls?" he joked looking at the walls which were covered in Hilary Duff posters of all colours.

"No. Firstly, I am going to change those with Monrose posters soon enough and secondly… that wasn't what I was talking about idiot!" she yelled at him. She knew that he had understood her but still felt like scolding him for his rather 'hilarious' humor.

Zane rolled his eyes before he went to sit on her king-sized bed. "And I never imagined to host a talk show just at the age of five," he stated. That was really true. Zane was one of LA's youngest TV hosts and he was doing a really great job. The people never got tired of him over the past eight years, never. There was a small smile on his face before his expression grew serious again. "But why Aly? I mean isn't this the life you always wanted? Family, friends, a real home?" he asked worriedly.

Alexis just shook her head. He didn't get it after all. "No, it's not that… it's just that…" she said trying to find the best words to describe her inner-most feelings.
"It's just what?" he asked narrowing his eyes at her. There was something wrong with his blond friend and he could feel it.


"It just feels a bit… well… strange I guess!" she said not really sure if 'strange' was the right word. It actually did feel a bit strange but there was something else as well. It was that something which she couldn't put her fingers on.

Zane stared at her for a moment before he broke out laughing. In his opinion, Alexis was the weirdest person he had ever met. She was a pretty blond with lovely blue eyes but sadly she was stupid as well. A quality which most blonds have, he thought. It took him a moment or so to gain control again but then he still couldn't stop smirking at the poor girl who was staring at him with a perplexed look.

"What?" she asked in an annoyed tone. "What's so funny?" sometimes she really couldn't get that guy. And Lily Moore thought he was sweet and charming? Guess she hasn't seen this guy over here, has she? She thought angrily.

Zane took a deep breath before he continued speaking. "What do you mean, 'strange' huh? What's so strange about this?" he asked eagerly.

The blond girl thought carefully for a moment before she answered him. "Well, it's the fact that everyone here is so nice to me whereas back at my uncle's, everyone hated me." she said. That's when she realized it! The reason why everything in this house felt so strange was that she had never been treated so kindly before and this was the first time she was experiencing something like that. She was finally in a place where she felt as if people were happy to have her.

"Listen up Crismon," Zane said standing up. "You'd better get used to this life or else you will be brutally murdered." he said in a serious tone.

Alexis stared blankly at him before she finally got his joke. But she pretended to be clueless. "And… by whom may I ask?" she said scratching her head.

Zane's expression was dull and serious for a moment before it suddenly turned into a happy and playful one. "By me of course!" he shouted happily. "Now let's go. My dad has made his famous Italian Fish Pasta." he said hurrying towards the door.
"Your dad is already home?" Alexis asked eagerly. She thought that Zane's father was working until ten o'clock today.


The raven-haired-boy smiled at her, clearly reading every single thought that was going on in her mind from her confused expression. "This is something you should know about our dad," he said making sure that the word 'our' was clear to her. "One day you think he's not going to be back until ten and the next moment you can already smell his food cooking." he said shrugging his shoulders.

"You mean that your mom can't cook?" Alexis asked trying hard not to use the word 'our'. It was hard, but she still wasn't ready. She had to know the whole family a lot better before she could say that.

Zane stared at her in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?!" he yelled. "That woman can't even toast bread without burning the whole neighborhood down! Now let's go or the food will get cold." he said taking a step out of the room before he was interrupted by the room's owner.

"Zane…" she said in a rather sad voice. She was happy to know that there were people who cared but there was one specific person she wasn't so sure about.

"Yes Blondie?" he asked turning around to face to the newest member of his family.

First she wasn't so sure whether he was the person who could answer her question but she had to try. "I know that my mother is dead but I'm not so sure about my father… do you think he's still out there?" she asked sadly. That was a question no one was ever able to answer in the past thirteen years of her life.

The eight-month-older boy looked at her with a pitiful smile. Alexis' mom had died when she was just two but she never met her dad. Zane knew where he was but the girl in front of him was too fragile right now to know the truth. "I don't know…" he lied. He wasn't a guy who liked doing that but this time; there was no other way out. "But there is one thing I'm sure of. And that is that he always loves you." he said smiling brightly.

Sighing angrily, she stood up. He couldn't answer her either. But still… with that, he had answered one of her many million questions. Alexis Crismon finally found the place where she belonged… and she had someone very special. Someone who was more than just a big brother to her; someone who really cared.

x.kiki_kiss.x*****x.kiki_kiss.x

So yeah… hoped you liked it! This story was actually a present to my big brother Kris who just got accepted for Cambridge University! HOORAY!!! Way to go Kris… you rock. And I'll really miss him cause he's going to be living ON-CAMPUS so I'll only get to see him when he's on holiday… BOOHOO!!! Wait... actually that's good cause i won't have to catch him making out with Rin anymore... that's good... right? Anyways, hoped you liked the story.



xoxkpxox

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