Sunday, 23 March 2014
Friday, 14 March 2014
I Do
I write stories and junk, so here's one of those, because I feel like I should get more comfortable showing people my work before I start my writing degree next year. I should also get better at writing, but that's not important :P This is one of my darker pieces, but it's also one of my more polished and edited pieces, so we're going with this one. I can't decide whether or not I want to continue it more or just leave it as is, but for now I'm pretty happy with leaving it as a piece of Flash Fiction with no real context or conclusion for the reader, maybe if I think of where I'd like it to go I might continue it later, but I have so many unfinished pieces, so who knows if I'll ever get time :P
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Trapping me. Trying to stop me from escaping. He wanted me
forever. That’s what he said. He said “when we’re married you won’t be able to
leave me.” I was promised anything I ever wanted. But now that we were here,
huge chapel, flowers and people everywhere, big white dress weighing me down,
making it impossible to run. I didn’t want it. Not like this. Not him. I tugged
and his grip tightened. Tiniest shake of his head. My fingers were going white.
I tugged harder, sure other people would notice this time.
“Let me go, please.” I hoped only he could hear.
Again, another almost imperceptible head shake.
“Jake please.” A sob broke through, a single tear. I watched
the drip hit, the moisture spreading slightly through the thick satin. “I just
want to go home.” Another drop.
“Stop it now Ellen honey, everyone’s staring.”
“I’m not Ellen,” it was my turn to shake my head now, still
avoiding the glare.
A chuckle, echoing through the brick walls of the ancient
chapel.
“Someone’s got cold feet,” he said. A small spattering of
laughter from the crowd that had gathered to witness my waking nightmare. “Just
give us a minute.”
He dragged me from the altar, into a small antechamber
across the room. Murmurs picked up outside, sufficient noise to drown out our
hushed words.
“Don’t do this Jake, please.”
“No Ellen, don’t you do this.” He slid his free hand into
his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. His thumb flicked the folded
sheet open, revealing a dark image of a small blonde boy crouched on a dirty
mattress; wooden floor boards covered in dust surrounded him, his eyes and nose
red from irritation and crying.
“Let’s remember why we’re doing this El, so we can raise our
beautiful son together.”
“Please. Please don’t hurt him.”
“Now let’s not get hysterical El,” he lifted my chin with
his finger, the paper cold and smooth on my neck. “You’ll ruin your make up.”
“My name isn’t Ellen!” My arm flew up, aiming for his face,
but just hoping for any point of contact that might do damage. The paper
fluttered to the ground as he brought his hand up, stopping my blow with a bone
crushing grip on my wrist.
“Of course it is, what else could it possibly be?” Eyes
frozen on my face. His breath was on my neck. “I’m done playing nice. Cooperate
or not, up to you, but I’m the only one who knows where Parker is and I’m
willing to bet you won’t like what happens.” His hand slid down my wrist until
it matched its pair around my hand, “We have a deal my love.” Pressure around
my fingers crushing them until I was sure they would break.
I nodded.
The smile returned as he straightened back up.
“Off we go then Ellen, time to say ‘I Do’.”
Thursday, 13 March 2014
Dear Love, Please Forgive Me.
I think I'm a little bit in love with you. Which is stupid, I know, because out of all the people I could choose to be a little bit in love with you're the one who's going to fuck me up the most. You're the one moved on, but will always make me feel special when we talk, so I'll never quite move on. I'll always want to share stuff with you; and your stupid, sarcastic, so typically you responses that let me know that you genuinely care will always make me feel special. You're the one I want to talk to when I'm sitting on my floor crying, and all I want to do is call you and get you to come over and just hold me, but I can't, because you're with her now and you don't need me half as much as I need you. I miss watching stupid movies at your house, cuddled up on your couch or in your bed. I miss making beer pizzas in your kitchen, that tasted kind of shit, but watching you make dough like you knew what you were doing (when you totally didn't, typical.) was hilarious. I miss wearing your shirt, and smelling you. I miss driving around town because neither of us wanted to go home, and sitting in your car talking and kissing, completely breaking my curfew but not giving a single fuck. I miss the way you smiled when I did something cute, and your stupid laugh that always made me want to kiss you. I miss kissing you. I miss your family and how they always treated me like I belonged there. I miss your dog, and how you'd get jealous of me patting him instead of paying attention to you. I miss that time we just sat in the bathtub at your party, both feeling sick and dizzy, but being exactly where I wanted to be. I miss watching Hannibal with you, and sitting on your lap while we watched my brother playing dumb games. I miss you teasing me, and picking me up, because even though I said I hated it, you knew I loved it. I miss feeling the way I did with you. I miss you. All of you. The ego, the insecurity, the sarcasm. I'm sorry I fucked up, and I'm sorry you did to. You said we have a caustic relationship, not quite toxic, but never long before one of us hurts the other again. I'd redo every single time you hurt me over and over again if I could have you back. Even just for one day. I don't want anyone else. We're what I compare everything to, and nothing quite shapes up. And I'm not supposed to feel this way, I should be over you, should be able to be happy with you being with someone else, but I'm just not. I'm jealous, I'm sad, I'm so fucking angry with myself for letting you go. I'm sorry. I love you.
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