(It is a little shorter than the others but then again, the title of the book is called 'short stories' ;))
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I thought I was ready.
I thought I was ready to meet him but I'm back at the starting line. Before the referee blew the whistle, before the coach yelled 'go!' , before time passes.
The light blinks and I feel like I'm over quicksand, my movements have to be slow and steady before I move. But I can't.
The music runs through my ears, flowing in like strong, irresistible, perfume. My heart races and I feel my chest tighten. I can no longer see things clearly because this music is racking my brain.
All I can remember is that sunny day, on the beach. He was in his pink hoodie and Adidas shorts and I was playing music on my iPod. He plugged it into the speaker so that he could sing the song with me. His mellifluous voice ran down the shore. He laughed when I tumbled, and rolled in the sea.
I was having the best day.
His face was all shiny and bright because he felt comfortable with me. His hair was tousled because I kept playing with it in the car. He hugged me tightly. And joked about things.
Like the time we snuck around, because our parents didn't want us together. We couldn't get caught. He'd joke about hitting any person who walked in with his phone, hoping that they would not have any memory of what they saw that night, so we won't get into trouble.
That night he'd let me do things and experiment. I'd push him against the wall - moving my lips lower to his neck as I felt his hands on my ass. He groaned at the contact and we fell on the bed. He was on top of me, my tongue met with his and massaged each other, eliciting moans from each of us. I remember his shaky breaths and him feeling underneath my shirt. I felt as he kneaded them gently, his thumb roughly stroking the sides. Enough to make me moan harder.
Luckily for us, no one was awake.
He's holding my jaw, moving his hand slowly to my neck. He squeezes it gently and I gasp. My hands move to his bare shoulders - my nails accidentally digging into his skin. He hisses and the rest of the night was a daze.
We then ate ice cream and spooned. We talked about our hopes and dreams and our fears of life. What we long for and what we wanted. What we were afraid of happening, what was happening?
I might have lost myself in the process, but I didn't care. Because I was with him, and that was all that mattered to me at that moment. Because he was there. And I thought it was 'us against the world'. I thought we were going to be something. I thought something was going to happen for us and it was going to work because I was there with him. He and his smiling, flustered self. He was happy. And I was too.
But then things changed.
He caught on. I wasn't ready. Maybe he wasn't ready and I was too ready. He snatched my heart that night, I didn't even realize it until months later. He said it was just casual. Hey, we can make memories and promises that we can't keep, sure.
Memories that are vanishing every second of the day, now that I notice.
On New Year's Day, he introduced me to deadly silence. A quiet I've never met before. It wasn't fun. We stayed a safe distance from each other as I stared at the night sky. I hoped he was watching me. But he wasn't. He gazed at the sky, just like I, and took a short glance at me and left.
Right then and there was my heart and soul in pieces. Like he'd crushed me with his fist. Battering me with his hands. I felt attacked.
I felt alone.
The songs he showed me were wonders. He'd open up to me, showed me a brighter colour that I couldn't even notice then. It's like he led me onto the top of a mountain with ease and pushed me off of it to die.
I was dazed. As if in a trance, he led me into his web. I was too emotionally involved, he was emotionally unavailable and did not acknowledge my feelings.
I'm back at the start. Reminiscing about that shiny night. With the moon almost full.
I climbed the mountain not to die. But to plant trees and fruits. Plantation. I wanted to build something. A grove. A beautiful garden. I wanted to build a life. I wanted to bloom.
But he pushed me.
I had fallen, my hands were all bruised and my feet were all cut but I stood back up. Getting lost in the woods but eventually finding my way out.
I'm living. I want to prove to him that I'm the best I am right now.
But then I'm back, in that same place, hurting at the same time, running in the same lot. Crying in the same bed.
Alone.
YOU ARE READING
SHORT STORIES
Short StoryThey're just a bunch of really short stories, could be steamy, could be normal stuff. Depending on my mood :/ ------- Her soft lips crash against my neck - her tongue pressed against my hot skin. As I hiss at the contact, she hums, nibbling on the...