Humphrey Bench No2
- Reads 19
- Votes 1
- Parts 2
Ongoing11m
Last published Sun, Sep 14, 2014
They were two kids, each driven by something yet not to each other. One was very aware of the other’s existence but the other could care less. It was a solitary exchange that one wished to be more, but before anything could happen, that one went away.
Now more than half a decade later, Delilah was back in the city. She was the same girl in the same arterial in the same old house. And one day, somewhere in Humphrey Park, she met Chandler again. He was the same boy with the same eyes in the same park bench. Despite their disposition, the question still lies; will it still be the same?
In participation of @beautyatwork’s A Study of Feminity, this is a story on bearing with unwanted companionship and on the acceptance of the abrupt and equally unwanted feelings after that.
© 2014 Celine Corduroy
All Rights Reserved
#27
feminity
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Delilah moves from New York to a school where the fake popular kids claim her as their own. Making it impossible to make real friends. It isn't until she gets partnered with the mute boy for an assignment that she finally makes a real connection. She makes it her mission to get to now him. Although he doesn't want to be known. He's scared that once she gets to know him she'll leave like everyone else. But what they both don't expect is that music has a way of bringing people together. This book is a dual POV. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "That's incredible. You're incredible." My eyes widen and I look into her eyes again. A blush makes a way to her face and I can tell she didn't mean to say that last part out loud. But she did. And I can't stop myself from taking what she said to heart. It's been a long time since anyone has said anything remotely close to that to me. I can't let it get to me. I can't get used to it. Being hopeful. The higher you rise, the farther you fall. "Do you think you could make a song I can sing to?" She asks me timidly. I hesitate to say no. If I say no then she might spiral again. This is her hope. Her light to the darkness. She finally has something to look forward to and to distract her. As I mull over it I see the hope in her eyes dwindle. She doesn't expect me to say yes. "Okay," I whisper.
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