literature

Untitled

Deviation Actions

By
Published:
104 Views

Literature Text

         Every day he cried. Every time he thought of her another piece of his shattered heart broke off. Some people said he stalked her but no one every really knew. No one ever tried to get to know him. They all just got out of his way when they saw him coming. Not knowing if he’d lash out at them. But when he passed her he stopped and he’d take off the hood to show his strong jaw, cracked glasses and his scarred face. That scar from when his dad got angry one night and cut him. That scar that ran from his right eyebrow to his left jaw. That scar that everyone stared at and made stories about. While she would always walk by with a tear running down her makeupless face. She never would meet eyes with him and it has been months since anyone has heard him speak. While he made his way to gym he thought of her. As he pulled off his shirt everyone there could see the scares from his fathers rage on his defined back and shoulders. He couldn’t wait to see her again or maybe he never wanted to see her again. He tried everything he could to take his mind off his unattainable goal. But he never succeeded. He gave her everything he could but she only took it and then talked to some “cool guy” with his polo shirts and his “cool guy” cologne that smelled like cat shit but cost 500 dollars so everyone would treasure him even though this “cool guy” never bought anything for him self. That’s how they always are given everything their “perfect” lives. While this scarred boy stands there in the gym class standing against a wall watching her fumble while laughing that perfect laugh. He’d smirk but it brings him pain to move his face. She’s trying to serve the right way in badminton while the behemoth of a teacher tries to help her. She clearly doesn’t want it. A tear stats to well in his eye and before he can stop he blinks and it begins its journey down his scar and onto his shirt. While he hopes no one in the class saw the teacher calls for the end of class. So he travels back to the locker room to change back into his stereotype. When he gets out he waits for her and tells him self that this is the day he’ll stop her. This is the day he’ll say “hi”. But she walks by and he stands there like she didn’t even notice. But when he gets home that night after the stronger kids have beaten him to the brink of death just to get him to speak. He knows that all he had to do was say a word and they would have stopped but he doesn’t speak for her. He couldn’t do anything about the beating couldn’t even fight back. So he nurses the reopened scars and the bruises appearing over the existing bruises. And he cries as he mutters the words “I love her” and he knows he isn’t crying because of the pain these strong kids have caused him but because of this pain he feels for her. Then he falls asleep to dream about her again.

           As he dreams his tears fall onto his pillows. He dreams of her touch, her lips when she smiles. And at that moment he sees her bleeding, bruised and broken. He walks to her and a man blocks his way his fists tighten and he lunges at air. He stands quickly and he bewildered. He quickly turns to face the girl of his dreams to find her standing and crying while averting her eyes from his. She looks up when he puts his finger under her chin. She looks into his green and golden eyes glazed over with tears. As he looks back into her teal eyes which are surrounded by the ugly purple of bruises created by the hate of her attacker. While they stare like this his head advances so slowly to hers it’s as though he isn’t even moving. But their lips come so close that he breathes and she can feel it and breathe it in. he moves in to finally achieve this goal that seemed so unattainable those few hours earlier. And he’s awakened by the sound of rocks hitting his window. He looks out after wiping his eyes knowing that this has never happened before. While peering over his ledge he sees a shadow and another rock hits his window. It’s at this time that his greatest fears and his biggest hopes come true. It’s her standing there with her perfect smile on her face.
         He stares for what seems like an eternity. He finally seems to realize what is happening and throws some clothes on. These clothes that make up 1/3 of his stereotype. He opens up his window and hanging his feet on the 1/2” of a ledge closes his window and jumps down beside her. She stares him in the eyes and hugs him with all her strength. She turns and starts to walk. His puzzled look pains him because of that scar. That scar that always brings him back to reality. He knows this isn’t a dream. It can’t be a dream he says to himself. But when he rolls up his sleeves and begins to walk. He knows it isn’t a dream now because of all the bruises that are all over him. He tries to roll his sleeves back down but she has already seen and is getting worried. He takes her hand in his and he asks her to please not worry about him. Her hand is cold. As he puts his palm against hers they start to become the same temperature. As he does this her perfect frown turns into that perfect smile. And all of a sudden he remembers why everyday after all the beatings, the remarks and the ignorance he says he loves her and he leans in for his unattainable goal and she finally lets him achieve it.
            His hand burned in hers. She could feel it but didn’t acknowledge it. It was part of him and she loved it. He sees her eyes while the turn to walk down this dark empty street that this boy has called home for all these years. He drapes his arm over her shoulders and she moves closer to him and his body that is emitting so much heat. She feels it everywhere around her. They walk till they hear music coming from some “cool” person party where everyone is getting drunk. He smiles and shakes his head. This is too perfect he thinks to him self as she leans into his arms and starts rocking. The song is his favorite slow song and apparently it is hers as well. So there they dance in the middle of a field with the music being drowned out with sirens coming to tell the children to turn it down. There they sway in time with the music his chin resting on her perfect head. She looks up at him when the song finally ends and they kiss for one last time.  
          He wakes up from this dream that he’s had so many times before. This time he’s woken up, it’s the same way he gets woken up in this dream that he wants so badly to be a reality. He looks out his window and sees his best friend with a grin big on his face. Our boy jumps into his stereotype and then out his window closing it before hitting the gravel. They both take off down his street running both blending in with the darkness around them. This friend tells him he's leaving and this will be the last run. With blackness engulfing them both they run this route that has become so familiar over these years of running it whenever one of them needed to talk. It was almost everyday they saw it and ran it. Our boy asks where he's moving too and this friend says Europe. England probably. He wants to be here still England isn’t the place for him. They both know it’s true. So this is it he says. They approach this jump that they’ve jumped everyday for six years. This jump that could end a life so slowly our dark clad boy is losing confidence in making it and ending it right there. But memories of these dreams he had and all those people that are so far away but are so close at the same time and care so much about him. They speed up at the same time and leap over this gap flying in unison and screaming as always. Then rolling into the landing and finishing it lying on their backs panting as they have for the past six years. They get up and walk their separate ways knowing they will never talk to talk to each other again and never see each other again as well. Our scarred boy isn’t scarred anymore and his glasses are mended.
     Everyday he smiles for his memories and friends are the greatest.
            THE END
A piece i put together in a week or so
© 2005 - 2024 Detic
Comments4
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
wkuanz's avatar
geez... i like you writing these kinda pieces. it's so depictive...

maybe define some more paragraphs to it so it'll look neater, not only that, it can create a steady momentum for your story.

good luck!