Get Me Away From Here
I decided to re-write this AGAIN since it was the first story i've ever wrote and it was so single layerd. I keep finding things i want to change over and over again. It's alot longer now so forgive me for doing so but i couldnt help it. I think it's alot better now and hope you think so to. I also finally came to a title that i was happy with.
=========================================================
I remember when I first saw that girl who walks to school alone. She looked like she never met a single person in her life. I never thought about it really, but I wonder what she's like?
It was a fairly cool autumn morning when I awoke in my bed. The usual routine of getting a shower, dressed, and out the door was soon to come. I don't eat breakfast; I am not a morning person. Nobody is ever home in the morning, it's usually just me and my toothbrush. I leave at around ten after to get to school in plenty of time. I run across, or rather see this girl about a block away from my house, the school being only five blocks in the same direction. Her hair is short, black and fits around her face perfectly, her eyes are warm puddles of chocolate boiling against the flour-dusted paleness of her face. I thought she was very pretty. Of course I thought she was pretty I didnt know her well enough to see any of the faults she carries like the rest of us. I myself am not what you could call attractive, I have been told I have a rather unique look. Which means I am nice to know, not love.
Usually I would walk behind her a good distance as to not have to deal with talking to her. I dont have a fear of people really, but it's just that I like to watch. Today for some reason she walked at a slower pace than before, I had to walk even slower to stay behind, almost not walk at all. Then she suddenly stopped walking all together. I wasn't sure if I should also stop, maybe walk backwards, or just keep going. Before I could make up my mind she turned and looked at me. Not with a cold hard look, nor a happy one. It was empty. The kind of stare that would usually send chills down your spine, but I was too busy being lost in her eyes for a brief moment. She looked at me in this blank manner while my eyes darted from hers, to the ground, to the sky, then back to her face.
"Let's walk together for once?" She asked in a voice that could barley travel the short distance between us. I wanted to say I was thinking the same, that I always though that. Yet in the end I just nodded and joined her. It was about three blocks and neither of us had spoken a word. The trees were still skeletons scathing in the grayness of fall. I was afraid to look at her so I only stole glances. I noticed her cheeks and nose were sprinkled with faded freckles, faint ghosts of childhood. As I tried to sketch her face in my mind with permanent maker, her hand brushed slightly against mine. It was only a quick swipe but in that second I felt warmth, the kind of warmth that only a body could produce. I don't know if she noticed but it didn't really matter anyway. When we got to school we just went our separate ways, not looking at each other or saying anything, just letting our selves be swallowed in the masses. I usually don't see her through the whole day until I walk home.
I find myself constantly thinking of that girl. All day I sit at my desk musing of what she was like. I have a habit of doing that really, making up stories and such about people I've never met. In some way I find that it compensates the vast distance I feel between myself and the people around me, a bridge of sorts.
In my head I imagine her to be immensely sad. I don't know why but all the small things I know about her lead me to nothing but loneliness. From the way she walks to the emptiness in her eyes that swallowed me earlier this morning. Thou in her mind I can see dreams, thousands of them, some still dusted with gold from childhood, some rooted deep into her heart full of sleepy eyed daydreams, and others lingering in the crevasses of her mind like shadows creased between books. Maybe she wanted to be a doctor, or no a vet, ever since she was little but as she grew her mind matured before her face. It changed into an ambition to become a writer, a poet or a painter. Her ragged looks seem to only hint at the pace in which she runs down the streets of love. I see her heart plump with the fantasies of puppy preteen affection, but frightened by the bulldogs of harsh love. Maybe she has never been kissed, but feels it on her lips every night as she lay sleepless in bed while cars play lullabies on the road outside. I see her whispering into books as she loses her mind in the midst of what she just can't seem to understand. I try to figure her name out in my head and the first one that surfaces is Emily. I call the name out in my head, trying to imagine her face turning in response to it. It seems almost too real, yet I doubt that it's her name.
School is not something that I really enjoy. Not only because you have to do work and such, but because I have to be around lots, and lots of people. People I do not know. I wouldn't say I fear crowds, just small spaces with too many people. When you feel so overwhelmed you sometimes retreat into yourself, you feel alone in your world. It's almost like you don't exist at all. It's a selfish feeling really, thinking you alone are the only person ignored into silence. Yet lately I feel more alive then I have ever felt. Ever since I've had the pleasure of watching this girl from a far for so long, and then finally making contact with her. I wanted to be real.
When the bell finally rings I find myself looking for her in the hallway as I walk towards the exit. I scan all the faces, some I've seen before, and others I'll never see again. As I walk out the door I decide to wait by the steps incase she passes by. I stand against the cement wall and try to map out some sort of greeting I could call to her but end up with nothing as I notice the flow of students had faded to a trickle. I begin to walk figuring she was already half way to where ever she lives. It would be kind of weird to worry about her like I knew her, but I am disappointed none the less. As I keep walking I continue to worry about her. Could this obsessive feeling be love? No, I just thought she was interesting. I wanted to get to know her more, then maybe I could take this feeling I have in my chest and turn it into something worth living for.
About a quarter of the way home I find myself loathing the quietness of my house, as soon as I open the door it'll be there waiting for me like a sad dog. I slip on my headphones and turn the music all the way up. I walk home the way I usually do, clutching at my Walkman and staring at the ground as if looking for something I've lost. Usually I stop at cross walks and look for cars but I can't seem to find that in me today and I put my trust, what little there is into the drivers. I can recognize where I am just by the look of the sidewalk. I know I am halfway home because a huge tree root has cracked and raised a section of cement. I find myself at the intersection before my house, I know it's mine because it is the only one that is a main road with lines painted on it. I stand on the curb and look up for the first time to check the crosswalk sign. A car drives by and in the reflection of its speed I catch a person walking towards me. I see through the narrows of my eyes the girl from before in mid stride in the middle of the road. She seems caught off guard, as if she was stopped in mid sentence, her arm out stretched with something to give me. The words never came out of her mouth thou, that very instant it seems someone up stairs blinked.
"Still it was worth it as I turned the pages solemnly, and then with a winning smile, the poor boy with naivety succeeds. At the final moment I cried, I always cry at endings."
The voice sang in my headphones as the no walking sign blazes red. A car sweeps her off her feet like a fairytale prince, spinning her in a gown of broken glass that shudders in a thunderous collision. She lands like a foul ball just out of reach. I stumble onto my knees next to her. She's lying on the pavement looking straight up to the sky as if looking for figures in the clouds. I bend down closer and look at her face, beautiful and motionless. She opens her eyes slowly, which instead of being empty as before, are flooded with emotion. Tears pour from the corners of her eyes, tiny translucent cars veering down the avenue of her cheeks. She clasps her hands around mine; they are still warm and melt my skin like Summer. Her voice is choked with pain as she murmurs her last words through clenched teeth and a busted strawberry lips.
"I spent...all day writing this...for you." She holds open her hand and in her palm lies a folded piece of paper. As I take it from her she whispers her last words softly as if trying not to wake someone.
"Oh Get me away from here I'm dying..." She smiles beautifully, a smile that reaches from the edge of oblivion, struggling through the thick shadows of death, haunting in its tranquility. Her eyes close as the left over tears stream down her face, smearing the blood like rain streaking a window and cascade off her chin. She dies in my arms, right then and there as a marshmallow giraffe slowly floated above us. We shared an instant with each other, both straining to listen to the barely audible music slipping from the headphones around my neck. We both knew the song and she died with it still in her mouth, still in hear ears, maybe even in her mind. I stay in that exact position as I hear the sirens of the ambulance and cops coming closer, the hot red and cold blue becoming brighter on the cars cracked mirror surface. The paramedics come, and steal her from my blood stained arms. They put her into the back of the truck as the police squabble with the driver as they put him in handcuffs. I watch everything happen from far away, from deep within myself as I feel any sense of the world drift off with the ambulance, wailing cruelty into the distance. I answer all the polices questions with the voice of a mute man. They leave with the promise of a phone call and I stand there soaking it all in. I sit down on the curb and unfold the paper. As I read my eyes well up with tears for the firs time since I can remember. I begin to bawl uncontrollably as sentence after sentence resonates in horrific familiarity. It's as if she was copying down everything I had conjured up about her that day. From the tremendous loneliness to the phantom kiss she felt each night. Her heart was scrawled out on this piece of paper from beginning to end and it was signed
Immensely yours,
Emily
I sigh a salty, lung-piercing sigh and continue walking towards my empty house.
Want to comment on this Short Stories?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|