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Scribe
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: The Sea Of Holes
Gender: Male
Posts: 77
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Untitled.
I can't remember what the point of this story was.
Oh well, I guess it goes to File 13.
Untitled:
She sat by the beach, gazing out into the endless sea. The waves rose high and crashed on the breakwater with force. Her hair was wet from the light drizzle, but she refused to move from her
spot.
Transfixed by the swelling ocean, she sighed as she cradled the gun in her lap.
Suicide had been an increasingly attractive option for her.
A single tear rolled down her cheek, or was it a raindrop? She brushed it away with the back of her hand, relegating the moisture as rain. Life had not been kind to her. The pressure she felt from school, and family, and love, was too much, too much for her to bear anymore. She had decided to end her life by the sea.
How romantic, she thought dryly. As she recounted her past troubles, bringing herself even closer to the edge, she cried.
I promised myself I wouldnt cry, she mumbled.
Her tears flowed freely now.
As she wept, she did not notice the man who sat beside her.
She nearly jumped as the man gave the slightest of sighs. Getting caught before you killed yourself was going to be embarassing.
The man stared out into the horizon, paying her no attention. He didn't even seem to notice her.
She analyzed the man sitting beside her. No, not a man. A boy. A boy in a mans body. She saw a glint of innocence and childhood immaturity shining through his dark, brown eyes.
"Isn't the weather just perfect?"
She continued to stare, startled by the softness in his voice.
"I don't get what you mean." she replied.
He set his eyes away from the ocean and onto her. He was unremarkably handsome. Like the kind of man (boy) you turn your head for, but then look away from in disappointment.
"What's not to get? The weather is perfect." he said, a plafyul smile lingering on his face.
"Perfect for what?"
He cocked his head to the side, as if confused. It was like HE could not understand the words she was saying.
"It's perfect for a lot of things. For life. Pain. Death. But most of all, it's absolutely perfect for telling the truth."
"The truth? How is the weather perfect for that?" she asked.
He took his time before answering, pondering the question in silence.
"It's perfect because it's dark, and gloomy, just like the truth can be. The cold chills the rain and wind so that it's all the more painful when they slap you in the face. The fog hides the bright sun, just like a lie hides the truth. The feeling of an impending doom pervading the air and, well, you get where I'm going with this."
She marveled at what he said, each word striking her fiercely, almost brutal.
He's either really wise, or full of bullshit.
Maybe even both.
"So," he said, his eyes not leaving hers, "May I ask what you're doing out here on such a beautifully gloomy day?"
She quickly hid the gun she carried, her eyes averting his.
"I was just...thinking."
"Thinking about what?" he asked.
"Nothing really. Just...thinking, is all."
He smiled and looked away.
"Yeah, that's the best thing to think about." He replied, almost absent-mindedly.
They sat in relative silence for the next few minutes, the quiet being interrupted by the occasional cough of the man beside him.
She spoke softly, breaking the quiet between them.
"But then again," she said, vacantly, asking herself more than asking him,
"What is truth?"
"Hah! Let's not go there!" he chuckled.
"That sort of question is for philosophers and people who have led happy and fulfilling lives. And I mean no offense but, I don't think eitherone of us can answer that question. Why else would be sitting on a parkbench on a day like this?"
"Sitting alone as well." she added with a touch of irony.
"Well, I'M not sitting alone. I'm sitting here with a very pretty, but albeit depressed, girl with a gun in her purse."
Her insides froze as he uttered that last sentence. She fidgeted nervously as his cool brown eyes stared cheerfully into hers, almost as if he was peering into the darkest recesses of her mind.
"What..what makes you think I have a gun?" She asked, unconvincingly trying to sound innocent.
"I don't mean to generalize but, people who think as deep as you were, well, they're always contemplating offing themselves."
The frankness in his voice stung her.
As if sensing this, he flashes her an apologetic smile, coupled with a shrug.
"It's none of my business, of course."
She stared at him blankly.
In the distance, the fog swirled. The sea ebbed & churned, lapping the shore with just a touch of anger.
"I just...I just don't think that anyone can understand..."She said, breaking the awkward silence.
"Can YOU understand it then? Can you understand the problem, or problems, that is/are plaguing you.
That's the only thing that matters, you know."
She took a moment to ponder his question. "No. I guess I don't understand it either."
"Then THAT'S your biggest problem."
They sat again in the uneasy quiet that dotted their conversation, the light drizzle settling on their faces like dew on grass. The wind picked up, freezing the rain on their cheeks.
__________________
getting older but getting nowhere...
What do you mean it's last call?! I just got here!
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