HIS-Story

HIS-Story~8

Quiet....
There was no alarms going off, no loud chatter nor sizzling of bacon in a pan. Just quietness, the distant cars outside came as a mumble to my ears as I focus my ears on the beautiful woman beside me breathing. She's beside me..naked and peacefully sleeping. I can just turn around and touch her gently, but I do not want to wake her up. Maybe I can look at her....would that be creepy? Fuck it! I don't care.

I did as that. I turn on my side to look at the beautiful woman beside me as she slept. Gosh she's beautiful. Even when she's sleep she holding her natural glow and her slight smile. Amber stirred and moaned in her sleep. But before she can open her eyes, I sat up and turn my back to her so I won't be considered as a creep.

I felt her warm and soft fingers going down my spine; making me tense but then relax. "Morning." I heard her say; her voice was soft.

"Morning." I said as I stood up and pull my shorts up to my waist. I turned to the woman in my bed with a slight smile, so she won't think this relationship is over after just after sex. I bend down and peck her lips before walking into the the bathroom to wash up and do other hygienes.

When I walked out the bathroom with my black towel wrapped around my body, I saw Amber with just her shirt on as she looked at the cover of my private journal. I sat down next to her and took the journal out of her hand; earning a slight jump from her.

"I stepped on it when I got out of bed."

"Did you read anything out of it?"

Amber shook her head. Which is good. "What's in it? Is it your diary or something?"

I chuckled then shook my head. "Not diary. Just writing, random writing."

"Since it's random, can I read one? I'm very curious in what you write." She admits.

Should I? Somethings in here are kinda private. Wth! One peice wouldn't hurt. I flipped to the first page, the date 11/19/12; the very first day I wrote in the journal. I slowly handed my journal to Amber so she can start reading my random and not so good writing of my thoughts.

As she read, I got up to dry off and puts some clothes on. But the whole time I was thinking how she would react. The first piece I did was... I admit, very emotional and true. I'm not proud of the action, but like everything that is set upon of me in my life; I had no choice but go through it.

"Wow." I heard her say. "That was-"

"I'm going to make breakfast." I closed my dresser and walked out the room before she can finish her sentence.

~~~~~~~~~

We was currently in my truck, going to Amber's apartment. So far she didn't say anything about my random writing; which is kinda good. I'm not ready for the bad criticism.

"Let's have another date tonight." She suggested. "A date date, not really a bed date. Unless you want to do the bed date again." Amber added then chuckled.

"Of course." I parked the car in front of a decent three level apartment building.

"Good, come to my apartment at eight." She leaned over and kiss my cheek before getting out my truck.

~~~~~~~~~~

Why the hell did Amber drag me here!
We was currently in a cafe that was doing poetry slam; that's when random people get on the small stage and share their poems. So far some was good, but most of them was horrible.

"Why are we here?" I asked her as she looked at me with a smile. I knew what she was going to do or at least already did. "I'm not going on that stage." I told her.

Amber shrugged. "You don't have too." She reached into her purse and pulled out my dark green journal. I don't know if I should yell at her, walk away or give her glares for taking my journal. "I didn't read any other piece other than the one you showed me this morning. I want your writing to be heard by others."

"It's not just writing nor poetry Amber, it's my life." I stated. "You can't just share things about my life out there."

Her smile immediately fades away in disappointment. "I'm sorry. I thought you'll at least share this one. Here." She gave me back my journal. "I'm sorry." She said once again before turning to the empty stage.

A short guy walked in the spotlight with a smile on his face like he was excited to be here. "Okay, our next poet AJ may come to the stage."

Amber glanced at me and I glanced at her. I shouldn't be doing this. I thought. But I stood up anyway and slowly walked into the spotlight that blinded my eyes. I didn't need the journal, because every man remembers his first kill.

I stepped closer to the mic and cleared my throat. I was nervous; I was never the one to stand in front of a random crowd and talk about something deep to me. To even share my thoughts. "This writing is called..little boy." I said lowly. That's when the low drums started to play quietly in the background.

"That little boy...." I started off. "Looked in a mirror that towers over him. With a task in his mind and a pistol bigger than his hand. That Little boy... Barely the age of fifteen, not even kiss a girl yet, holding a weapon that can destroy his planned future for the greatest. That little boy.....Hearing his mother cries and seeing her struggles though the same mirror he's looking in. That little boy....who's intelligent and also innocent but does not know right from wrong...who cares about his mother and sister so much that he'll do anything for them. That little boy...who sees green in his eyes and hear the Red Devil voice whispering in his ear and his mother's loud cries in the other. That little boy....who walked down the block and saw a man laughing with his friends. That little boy.... who pulled the trigger and watched the man fall while his so called friends ran away like cowards. That little boy.... who watched as the man cried for help as he slowly bleed out on the dirty cement side walk. The blue and red lights come closer as the man slips away with his last breath as the little boy walked away instead of ran.
That little boy....who's labeled as a man because he killed the beast by pulling the trigger so easily. Who is now considered legendary because the man he shot was a ex thug slash newly priest who just came out out jail with a new mind set with a wife and three kids at home that is now struggling with their lives like he did.
That little boy...who's mind is bigger than the gun and heart that's bigger than his two hands put together. That little boy....who can hear his now deceased mother crying in his ear while the Red Devil is whispering in the other. That little boy...who still see green in his eyes no matter how much he push the temptation away. That little boy who's now a man that towers over the mirror and knows what wrong from right. That little boy... who transformed into a fearless man... That fearless man...

The words came out so fast. Like I said, it's wasn't a poem nor random writing. It was my life. Soon the drums turned into loud clapping from the people in the cafe. Or is it just Amber? My writing is not excellent, which made me think of the people hating it. I hurried off the stage then out the door. I needed to be by myself for awhile...