View Full Version : The Need (Short)

February 14th, 2013, 07:34 AM
Just something I was thinking about earlier..

He’s in my head. I told myself I’d never let him in, I built a wall. But he found the crack in it, and he broke it down. He didn’t walk into my life, he snuck in. He took control over me like a thief in the night, only to be caught when it was too late. He’s here now, the bruises around my throat are a constant reminder, he’s got me in a chokehold.

I’ve seen what he does to people, right in front of my eyes. He slithers in like a snake, flashes his fox-like grin. He promises everything will be ok, that he won’t let you lose control. He promises he’ll only visit you a couple nights a week. A few nights becomes a few more, but he overstays his welcome, and a few more becomes every night for 10 days. He knows what he’s doing. He knows he stands right in front of you, begging for access to your life. Even though you don’t want it, he’s just too damn appealing to say no. You curse yourself as he saunters through your doors, your walls. You curse him and wonder about the hold he’s got on you. But none of that matters because, in a few minutes, you forgot you ever hated him. But soon he’ll be gone. And that’s something you though you’d welcome. Until his absence becomes more intolerable than his presence.

He plays the game, and plays it well. I knew I could play too, knew I could win. “He’ll never win me over, no. I’m too good for that. I’m too smart not to see it coming. I’m not like the other people who were weak minded and fell to him. They aren’t my problem.” And then like everyone else, I reality knocked me off my high horse, and it wasn’t gentle about it. I found myself thinking about him when my mind should’ve been an entire ocean away from him. Being able to resist him is what got me out of bed in the morning. But there he was, pleading for another chance. I couldn’t help but admire his persistence. But the problem arose when admiring it from afar became falling to it. I welcomed him at first, only occasionally. I didn’t give him much room to operate. I was still winning. He didn’t protest the infrequency of our time together, because he knew it was only a matter of time before those few weekly visits weren’t enough. He’d work his charm and I’d need him more and more. As prepared as I felt, as ready as I thought I was to cut him out if he crossed the line, he took me under and suffocated me. And I let him. At first I was shocked. “How could I be like those other weak minded people?” But doesn’t everyone say that? He’d smile his Chesire grin and respond “Yes, yes they do.”

People started to notice a change. My family didn’t approve of his presence. They chastised me from a distance, warning me to be careful, suggesting ending it. “I’m not a child. I know when I need to get rid of him, let me make my own mistakes.” My friends weren’t so concerned at first. They liked the way I lit up when he’d come around. They liked seeing me be happy, they knew, to me, everything was right the world. I’d be able to tell when he became to overbearing and walk away under my own power. They weren’t my parents, and that was that. But then my time with him made them jealous. I saw him too much. I got irritable and introverted when he couldn’t come around. And of course, like every other one of his victims, I defended him. I’d tell them they didn’t understand our relationship. That I knew he was good for me, and I had control of the situation, not him. They started coming around less. I picked him over them, and they didn’t stand for it. So it was me and him against the world, and I was alright with that. Then he started leaving.

He’d leave me with no contact for days. I’d hate him for it. I’d hate the world. My mind would wander to him whenever I was alone. Nights were the worst, they used to be our time and I got used to it. I felt so empty without him, sick even. I’d beg for a reason to see him, and started coming up with excuses to reach out to him.

It hit me. What have I become? I swore this wouldn’t happen. I swore he’d never get to me the way he got to those other people. I’m no better than them. He’s eating away at me, killing me slowly. He’s taking control over every aspect of my life. I had him contained, I had my desire for him under control. Had. Now, without him, I’m reduced to nothing. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I can’t live. And it’s the hardest realization I’ve ever made. But what will I do the very second he comes knocking on my front door? Answer it.

February 17th, 2013, 12:28 AM
sounds good to me

February 18th, 2013, 11:53 AM
I don't have much time right now, but reading through it quickly I noticed a few clichés -'like a thief in the night' 'fox like grin'... try and come up with another way of saying the same thing in your own way.

Hope that helps. Good luck.

February 25th, 2013, 08:41 AM
Well I read through it. I feel that you are trying to make it like a poem inside of the story sort of like an "epic poem". Honestly the only thing i'd say change is just make it a little more subtle and a little less repetition. We get you are in love with the person, but it just feels like you are trying to hard to tell us what we already know.

Olly Buckle
February 25th, 2013, 10:42 AM
But soon he’ll be gone. And that’s something you thought you’d welcome.typo

I half expected a revalation at the endthat 'he' was drugs or drink or some such, glad it didn't come, much more interesting this way.

February 25th, 2013, 04:39 PM
I liked it, one reason because it could be interpreted more than one way. Is this an alternate personality? Or a real person? Or some supernatural entity?


Olly Buckle
February 25th, 2013, 05:37 PM
I don't have much time right now, but reading through it quickly I noticed a few clichés -'like a thief in the night' 'fox like grin'... try and come up with another way of saying the same thing in your own way.

Hope that helps. Good luck.Clichés overdone are to be abhorred, I agree, however the occasional cliché gives the reader a rock of familiarity to hold on to from time to time; doubly useful in as indefinite a piece as this. The slithering snakes etc. I would wear, but the thief in the night seems inappropriate to the context of taking control by stealth. That seems more the power behind the crown, what the Japanese call the black curtain, or possibly the mesmerist.

March 5th, 2013, 03:16 AM
I thought it was more suited to be a poem in honest opinion but as a short it worked. I did note a couple words missing here and there and felt that the opening similes laid it on a bit thick

Otherwise certainly not a bad read