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Yay for creepy stories! xD
Okay... the last one... doesn't count for anything. >.>
But this one is an actual story I was going to write! Well... it was just a short, pointless story that I wrote maybe... half a year ago... and my friendie told me I should extend it. I... tried to... but... it didn't really work out. It's not much good of a story anyway. xD
It ends kind of suddenly. But it's supposed to. 'Cause it's all a dream... if one was to read the extended parts. But no one will... 'cause I haven't written it yet. xD
*sighs*
Though it seems to be a happy ending... it wasn't supposed to be. &.& I just don't have the heart to be so terrible to my characters. *sighs*
But... I'll write stories with death and suffering in them, no problem! Just don't want to break their hearts~
xD
I'll be okay.
Now, this story was kind of in my head for a year or so before I bothered to write it. -_- Then I wrote it... and... it's not exactly how it was in my mind... but... mreh... I guess I can deal with that.
...
So...
Enjoy. xD
Scars
He held on to her tight, wishing he could never let go of her. Wanting the very moment to last forever only made him hold on tighter, afraid that somehow she'd slip away, as she rested in his arms. But she still continued to cry.
He felt her warm tears begin to wet his shirt, as another soft sob escaped her lips. Just as he never wanted to let go, she never wanted to stop. The given permission to allow her tears run free from her eyes that she'd sealed off for so long, was such a relieving feeling. All her locked up emotions of all the pain and emptiness inside her bruised heart and beat up soul was released and given to him, so he could kiss them away. But something didn't feel right.
"Why are you so sad?" he whispered as her pleasent, yet unsure, breakdown persisted on. She looked up from his comforting chest to his sad eyes. Knowing her saddness had made him feel similar made her want to cry even more, displeased and ashamed of herself for being such a burden. She wasn't worth his pity; his warmth; his love.
"I'm sorry..." was all she could mumble, as another sob gave away and interupted her speech. She then pushed him away. She pushed him away and made her attempts to leave the dark room. But moments before she was to place her hand on the doorknob, she was stopped with a tug of her wrist. He'd grabbed her and wouldn't let her run away. He pulled her closer so that he was once again holding her tight in his arms.
"Why are you so afraid?" he whispered again, with a new question. She remained silent, staring blankly at the wall behind him. Tears made no hints of ceasing, but she'd minimized her sounds to a mere nothing. Only her slight heavy breathing was heard in the quiet room.
"Why are you so afraid of love?" another question was sent into the air, but left unanswered, "Why are you so afraid to let me in, or to let me love you? Why won't you let yourself love me back?"
"I love you... but love... I don't believe in love..." her words had unintentionally sounded like a faint whisper. She didn't believe in love, so she wasn't allowed to accept it. She was blind to it, so his love for her only looked like pity to her eyes. Thus, the feelings that she felt in return mustn't have been real either.
"You don't believe that. You know what we share is real, and I'm willing to wait for you to open up and trust me. I won't just give up on you," he might have appeared slightly annoyed, but the annoyance was almost completely covered up by the saddness that had never officially left his voice. He then pulled her away, but still held fast to both her arms. He stared down at her, but she refused to look back up at him, her eyes still focused at the wall to the back of him.
"Why can't you just believe in me?" he asked, his voice no longer a whisper. Yet another tear rolled down her face. This conversation was nothing new to her. It had been this way for so long now. But it had never not been this way. It had started this way. She wouldn't ever be able to handle it when he held her; when he kissed her; when he told her that he loved her. She would always run away... sometimes she'd make it out the door... sometimes he managed to grab hold of her again. But once the questions about her fears started to enter the air, she wouldn't talk anymore.
"I..." she choked, letting the word escape from her had given the chance for the long postponed sob to also sound. She slowly tried to look up at him, but his questioning eyes stung and she had to look away quickly. All his questions had similiar answers that she refused to share. When they were asked, those answers seemed to drip away with her tears, leaving her speechless. She never knew what to say, or what to do. The idea of love wouldn't work in her mind.
"You...?" he replied, but he knew that she had nothing to say. She never had anything to say. She could talk to him, laugh with him, and spend time with him, but once anything got too serious, she started to slowly fade away from him, leaving him this silent shell, shallow of who he loved moments before. This side of her always managed to get away from him. She'd run away, and wouldn't return his calls for a couple days. But then afterwards, she'd show up at his door, or call him, with a smile on. She'd be herself again, but refused to mention anything about situations before, acting like they'd never occured.
The same thing was going to happen again. She was going to push him away any moment now and run from the room. She'd go home, and she'd be out of his life for a week. And everything he'd said to her tonight would be lost, packed away somewhere in her sub-concious mind where she never dared to go.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, and just as he predictted, she once again tried to leave him. She escaped his hands, but he ran after her, grabbing hold of her wrist once again. She looked to him with a slight coldness to her eyes, "Don't you get sick of this again and again? Aren't you tired of waiting for me? I can't do this. I am incapable of accepting your love, so you should just give up on me!" She tried to pull her wrist away, but moments repeated themselves and she found herself in his arm yet again. Slightly ticked by this change in events, she tried to pull herself away.
"I will never give up on you, ever. I may get sick of this, I may get tired of it too, but if it's what's necessary to have you, then it is no burden to me. I keep on playing this game with you, even if it leaves us both hurt in the end, because I hope that one time, you won't run away. One time you'll tell me why you're crying. Instead, each time, you leave me in the dark, to worry about you until you come around again, like nothing even happened," he'd never held on to her so tight before. This time he could hear her pulse racing, instead of just feeling it. He didn't want her to leave now. He wanted the answers that he'd been yearning for for ages now. But she only continued to try to pull away.
"No, you don't want me to not run away. You don't want to know about my problems. You don't want to have to deal with them, and you'll leave me once you find out about my scars!" she cried, trying every possible way to just get out of the uncomfortable situation.
"Scars...?" he asked, unsure of what she might be referring to. The term could be used to describe both emotion and physical wounds that never completely healed away. But which term had she been using in the statement she'd just shared?
Her eyes widened. He'd heard her. Of course he'd heard her though, for she'd shouted it out, and there wasn't even a space between them. She now wanted out more than ever, but instead she was frozen in fear. He pulled her away, once again holding both her arms firmly, so that she still couldn't get away, and started to inspect her. Looking up and down her body, she seemed fine, but that was because she was wearing too much clothing for him to see anything but. He let go of one arm, and pulled the other closer to him.
"What... what are you doing?" she stuttered nervous, as her brain told her feet to run. But they remained planted in the ground, completely useless to her in her time of need. He used his newly freed arm and started to pull up the long black sleeve of her shirt.
"No! Don't do that!" she shouted, trying to take her hand away. He paused and sent her a look that asked why, and also stated that if there wasn't a good enough reason for him to stop, he'd continue. Her wordless reply gave him permission to continue. So he pulled up her sleeve and revealed her wrist to him. Scars.
"You did this to yourself..." he stated what might have been a question. He didn't ask though, for he already knew the answer. She'd been doing this to herself for quite sometime, and he had been clueless of the whole thing.
"Are you going to leave now?" she asked, dreading the answer. She knew that he would. She'd never ever wanted him to find out, but it was too late now. She'd given it away all by herself, and now he was going to leave. Leave her alone again, with even less belief in this game called love.
"No, I wouldn't leave you ever," was all he said, but his words were expressionless and almost cold. He'd rolled up her other sleeve to find fresh cuts and now held both her arms before him, staring blankly at her abused wrists.
He felt so angry inside. Thoughts of her being all alone at night, and doing that to herself, made him angry at both her and himself. Knowing that he had never been there for her, to save her from herself created more of an anger directed to himself than her though. But he wanted to slap her; yell at her... but he knew that such things would make everything worse. Instead, he allowed that anger to sink before he said another word.
"How could you...?" he muttered under his breath. She stared at him, watching his mixed emotions try to decide how they should feel. She once again provided no answer.
"How could you hurt her?" he asked again, bringing his eyes to hers. She blinked away some tears, but couldn't comprehend what he had just asked, "How could you hurt her?!"
"I... hurt who?" she asked back, nervous with fear, for she was still certain that he was going to leave her. He was almost glaring at her, his cold eyes burning hers.
"You hurt the person I love..." he started with a tinge of anger, but then his eyes soften along with his voice, "Why would you hurt the person I love?"
She felt a sensation run through her, as her eyes widened again, and she felt the need to cry and sob again. She wanted to say she was sorry, but she wasn't. She had intendedly wanted to hurt her, punishing herself for being so afraid. Punishing herself for being alone, and for hurting him everytime she ran away. She had deserved every last cut along her wrists and up her forearms, and she wouldn't let herself regret a single one.
"She doesn't deserve you. This is all she deserves," she answered, for some reason speaking in the third person just as he had been. She believed her words though, but knew that he wouldn't accept them as an answer. She heard him release a sigh.
"No one deserves this sort of punishment. And if anyone doesn't deserve someone, than it's I who doesn't deserve you. You've proved it many times when you rather be at home doing this to yourself than be here letting me love you."
"You don't understand. I'm just not worth your time..." she started to cry again, try to hide her face in her bangs of hair, but she had no reason to run away anymore. He would eventually ask her to leave, not wanting to have to deal with a girl who did such things to herself. He would feel that he'd wasted all his time, waiting and waiting for something no one could ever accept.
"I love you... and I need you... you're the only thing that is worth anything at all to me. If you left, and never came back, life would be useless to me..." he tried to explain, but describing his feelings was always hard for him to do. He brushed a lock of hair out of her face and brought her close to him again.
He placed his lips upon her's and kissed her gently, but she turned her head away. She was too ashamed of herself to accept his love. She'd made him upset, she'd tried to run away, and he even knew about what she'd do. So why was he still with her? Why was he still here, wanting to be with her; wanting to make her feel better? All the feelings inside her, she couldn't understand, and she probably never would. She didn't believe in love, and she didn't understand it, but yet, deep down, she knew it was there, between them, and they shared it.
"I love you...too..."
*sighs*
I'm not much of a writer, as you can see. xD
But I still try, hoping someday I can make magic happen! o.o But as for now... I am still a terrible writer~
Depressing story, ne?
But... not at the same time.
He was supposed to leave her! >.< That's what would have happened in real life. -_-
But... it's not real life... so... mreh. >.>
We shall move on now. xD
No more stories.
- Sakura Lied.
 Lyccea · Tue Dec 19, 2006 @ 04:03pm · 0 Comments |
