katzpawz - 4/30/2009 5:51 AM ET
Oh, please, keep writing on this! I'm hooked already - well thought out and well written. Hangs together well. MORE MORE MORE, please!
My father was angry. His purpling complexion and quivering lips hovered above me in the darkness. The sweat on his forehead beaded steadily, sliding down his face ever faster. The swollen skin over his cheeks darkened more than usual. I was trembling, my fear scent wafting through the room. The small whine that escaped my throat as he advanced towards me was like the noise a wolf pup makes when they are about to get punished. I knew that something terrible was going to happen and could not help but shake like a tree being tossed about in the wind. The whites of my fathers’ eyes grew pinker and darker as more blood cells erupted in them. His rage was overwhelming, for it felt like the whole of my being was under attack from something, and my heart ached in its fear. The overflow of anger rose off my father in waves, drifting towards the ceiling. Slowly, he raised his fist and I clenched my eyes shut in anticipation of his blow. I felt the air flowing around me as he brought his large, meaty fist down. Then everything went black. I woke up in a room full of people. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t place what until I realized that I wasn’t with them, but only observing them. As my eyes scanned the room, I found her. She was the best looking person in the room. Her honeyed skin glistened in the flashing lights with sweat from dancing. Her loose jeans accentuated the petit form beneath them. Though she wore little makeup, she didn’t need it. Her bright green eyes sparkled with laughter as she joked with her friends. The shimmering of her lips displayed slight gloss, enough to draw attention, but only if it was noticed. The lips were full, and naturally dark, just adding more to her already beautiful face. You could tell that she didn’t care what people thought of the way she looked because she held herself in such a loose, carefree manner. I drifted through the crowd, with no one noticing me though I brushed right past them. She turned my way and smiled, as if she knew I was there. I turned slightly to the side to see what she was smiling at. Behind me, I saw myself un-bruised and older. I walked right up to her while I watched, and hugged her fiercely, whispering in her ear. She wrapped her thin arms around my waist, comforting even my wraith-self with her obvious care. My other body was slanted to the side as was hers, at least in comparison to where I was viewing the scene. It was nice to know that, even if this was a dream, someone out there loved me. My drunken father paid little attention to me, unless he decided that I had done something wrong. In those times I did my best to cower and hope that he would turn away from me, but it never worked. I took one last glance at myself with the girl and sighed. This wasn’t my life, it was only a dream. Then she did something that surprised me. She looked right towards me and mouthed four simple words. “I’m waiting for you.” Somewhere my five-year old self smiled in its coma, and I knew I had something to look forward to. |
Comments 1 to 6 of 6
|
Comments 1 to 6 of 6
|