View Full Version : When Trains Collide (Chapter 1)

March 17th, 2013, 05:56 AM
The only sound to be heard was the tapping of the rain and the tree limbs as they hit the window, looking like twisted, broken hands reaching for a body to snatch into the night. A storm was coming; one that wouldn’t stop for anything and someone was going down tonight. The two of them sat on opposite sides of the room, a foreign gesture in that house. Almost every night they sat together, wrapped up in each other, both in body and mind. They were a them. Now, they were a him and her. A world of silence, hurt, and desperation lying between them. No eye contact had been made, no words exchanged for what seemed like hours. Her head was hung low; because for the first time she had to watch the only man she had ever truly loved destroy what she had built. The only man she ever trusted broke that scared bond, broke her. She knew the end was coming, a war was coming. But that war would be fought in vain, because, like that of two trains colliding head on, no one ever walked away unscathed.

He never took his eyes off her; she was the only woman to understand him. He knew what he did, they both did by now. He knew she’d never be able to forgive or forget him; it began to eat away at him. He could understand not being forgiven. But he wished with every ounce of life in him that she could forget he ever existed, forget the hurt, forget that she’d never love another man the way she loved him. But there was no forgetting for her, no moving on. She never said it, but she didn’t have to say things like that to him. He knew she never respected, trusted, or loved anyone the way she did him, and she never would again. He wished if he wasn’t going to be in her life anymore, someone else could. But he left his mark on her, like that one scar you get as a child and remember how you got it on your deathbed.

They could talk about anything and everything with each other that they never could with anyone else, something they’d both been yearning for their whole lives. Her mind was so mature, far beyond her years. She understood things; things she shouldn’t have. The first time he looked into her eyes had him hooked. There was a story behind them of someone who had lived through more in her short lifetime than some people did in their whole lives. He wanted to know what lay behind those eyes. But what really got him was that her words could kill. They could cut so deep. He used to welcome that, bring it out of her to sit back and watch the fire in her eyes, hear the passion in her words. He never knew he’d give her a reason to cut into him like she did. He never knew that same talent would shatter his world to nothing. But he deserved it, he bit the hand that fed him, and that hurt them both worse than any words ever could.

There they were, her and him, probably never to be a "them" again. She thought about all the good memories they had, every time he made her smile. Every conversation, every dream shared between the two of them, every horrid memory of her past that to everyone else was locked away in the back of her mind. They could share those kinds of things with an ease that felt more natural than anything else in the world. Every time she opened up, he was right there totally enthralled, hanging on her every word. There were things she hid from every guy of her past, her dark nature, her terrible history, her twisted perspective of people and the world around her. She was bitter, a cynic even. There was no other way to be given what she'd endured in her young life. He reveled in every minute of those stories. To him, she was beautifully broken. He wouldn't take her any other way. Everything she was ridiculed for, everything she pushed to the back of her mind flourished. She could be herself; he saw to it that she wasn't anyone else. All those things, in his mind, put her above the rest. She was far from average, cocky even. She knew she had an understanding of the world that exceeded the people around her. Always multiple moves ahead of the game. She knew if anyone dared to challenge her or cut her down, she'd take those same words and use them to tear the other person down to dust.

He tried to wrap his mind around how he could love someone so much but hurt her so badly. He was a writer at heart, a little more creative than most. His words could drop someone to their knees, out of pure poeticism or a stinging insult. It didn’t matter to him, either way; there was a game to be played, a game to be won. Always won. He was a confident man, who not many knew beyond that. Not many dared to try to get close. He wore his mental superiority on every inch of him. Every expression, every gesture conveyed something unapproachable to most. A quiet confidence that no one ever thought to awaken or challenge.

Though neither was speaking, their minds were both racing. They both were faced with one question: how could something that started so great be torn to pieces? The two began to search every corner of their mind, wondering where they went wrong.