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In your burnt heart of sorrow, you lingered in the cracked lines of your despair. The keys to your cherry red heart no longer fitted. Discarded in the cold winds of winter with three little words, "I'm leaving you," it no longer resided in the same spot. A shift, a little to the left had been made. And yet you lingered there, in your broken home, tangled up in loose emotions.
It was three months ago that it happened.
He had cracked open a bottle of beer so casually, so unemotionally as he spoke to you at his place. He discarded the caps onto the floor along with burnt matches and cigarette butts. As he told you the reasons why, he continued to sipped bottles and bottles of beer as if it were any other day.
He asked for his keys back. You pulled it out of your purse, slowly preserving the moment of owning such object. He started to take them from you but you held them tight. He nearly ripped them away from your hands. His cheeks flushed cherry red by the gesture. You remember the day he gave them to you. It was your twentieth-seventh birthday and also the second anniversary that you were together. You cried tears of joy which he had casually brushed away with his fingertips.
After the last bottle of beer was gone, he grudgingly drove you home, blasting Elvis Presley on the radio, humming along to "Love me tender." You sat beside him, numbness taking over your body as you realized - he didn't want you anymore.
He said,"Bye" without looking at you and drove off just as you barely slammed the car door shut, hurrying away as if he was escaping something horrifying. You watched as the faded, green Honda disappeared into the cracked horizon.
As you approached your home, you noticed how smooth the pavement leading to your front door was and wondered why they never looked that way before. You also noticed your front door was now an odd shade of red. You couldn't remember what the color was before.
You fumbled your keys as you looked for the big, silver one. Your hands trembled as you turned the lock. You touched your cheeks only to realized it was wet. You flipped the switch but the light bulb burnt out after two seconds. You cursed the darkness.
You went to take a shower but halfway, the water suddenly turned bitter cold causing you to keep turning the faucets but the water remained cold. You finished up anyway.
Then the phone rang. It was him. He wanted his things back. He wants you to gather them up for him and that he will come to pick them up tomorrow morning. You hang up the phone, your anger slowly begun to surface.
You picked up objects that you knew belonged to him and threw them against your bedroom wall, turning them into million bits of scattered, un-mendable pieces.
You raged against his material leftovers until only there was one left - a plate with Elvis Presley's face that you had loosely painted on. It was a birthday gift for him from last year. He had said he loved it, being such a big Elvis fan. But he never took it home with him. It was always displayed on your dresser in your bedroom.
You stared at it for a while before throwing it onto the floor. You cut your hand on pieces of debris as you cleaned up the mess. You watched the blood slowly dripped onto your tan carpet. That's when you decided you need to destroyed everything, everything that was him.
Now your dark eyes no longer picture him coming back. Three months of solitude is enough for you. Now it's time to burn some hearts, crack some sorrow, get new keys, eat dessert top with millions of cherries and discard everything that doesn't make you happy.
This is for prompts from 3WW and Friday 5.
The end of the breakup
5 Things
Typing Away had done a meme with facts about herself. I decided to do them as well. I don't know the name of this meme - I guess it's call 5 things since it involves the number 5. I won't tag anyone but anyone reading this is welcome to tag themselves. I'm going go with 5 random and/or weird facts about me in poetry form and also for Monday Poetry Train.
typing away on my silver keyboard
stopping here and there, soaking in new words and images
anonymous I am
spreading these virtual wings
writing therapeutic prose
revealing myself in this fashion
for a chance to escape spoken words
often nodding my head silently in agreement as if unable to speak
thoughts and ideas - dizzy in my head
out they come on this blog
no coffee or cigarettes necessary
to drive me into a ill spell
of words full of mix emotions
and random acts of automatic writing
to drive the nervousness away
or else I'd be staring into space
of blank canvas and loose pages
flying around from room to room
hoping no one reads this
nothingness is my pen
Winter Wonders
winter chill escape
this cold heart, changing shapes
leaving mended wounds
For One Deep Breath
The Chase
rushing through the limitless night
with eyes straight ahead
awake but half dreaming
driving towards the unknown
forgetting how to dream
creating false illusions
chasing false prophecy
speeding along like a bullet train
letting bitter desires sweep us in
moving faster as time goes slower
catching up only to let them slip
through the disguised dreams of a memory
laying in a field of dandelions under a glowing sun
that turn into the yellow moon
cohering all our scattered dreams while they laid sleeping
watching through the transparent glass of yesterday
clouding over by our very breath
immerse in this beautiful darkness
waiting for sleep to come and stop tomorrow from chasing us
This is for prompts from Writers Island, 3WW and Friday 5.
Vision
I have never saw
a rainbow - not in the sky
not in the blue sea
not in my coffee
or even in a child' eye
then you came along
rainbows I never saw
but that didn't matter now
because you saw me
For One Deep Breath
Crossroad
a crossroad I didn't stop for
an interlude of sorts
neglecting things that returned
as grotesque reminders of my awkward transition
forever the obsessed perfectionist
who can't draw a straight line
like a chef who can't find the kitchen
I blindly go forward
forgetting and remembering
everything and anything
in this state of numbing minds & weakling bones
I wander daze and off center
I long for normalcy
to return to a place of complacency
is there no chemistry between my body and me?
are we two unmatched shoelaces from one shoe?
chase the clouds from my mind
and drive them into the open sky of tomorrow
so that I may borrow these words from yesterday
and turn them into dreams of today
I long to ease back to something I thought has been lost
my forgotten self
This is for prompts from Writers Island, 3WW and Friday 5.
Some words to describe my absence from blogging due to shingles - a somewhat mild to severe case that is still ongoing. I'm not confessing this to garner sympathy (okay, maybe just a little). I do like to address why I'm not commenting and updating my blogs. I'm currently typing with one hand and trying not to go too fast. I don't know if I will have the energy to make comments but we'll see. I hope to get back to blogging soon but for now it will be one or two updates. I didn't realized how much I miss it until I check the memes and regret not participating. Here's to a less-painful recovery.
Waiting for sleep
indoor i stay
cure? sure, it's on the way
painful motions
drinking potions
waiting for sleep
counting empty sheeps
only to awake
to more shakes
aches and pains
is it all in vain?
body unrest
trying to get some rest
Ride the Monday Poetry Train
Frost
This entry is for One Deep Breath. The prompt is: Frost.
I decided to enter this for the Write Stuff Poetry contest. The theme is: cold, bitter. I thought this fits the theme just right.
leaves in icicles
nature's young hearts encased
in winter's ice home
born on winter's end
tomorrow still exist for
those standing still in
winter's frosted air
shattered but not broken
waiting in the shadows
in hopes of seeing
the sun's rays spinning in the naked sky
to allure us to a
metamorphic state
life's fragile smile upon us
hope here at world's end
Money
spend all day to drive my
small fortune away in attempt
to keep my happiness
...................................
he smiled and said don't pick love, pick money
then shouted "hurry, make more money"
passing out fliers
selling short desires
this from a man dressed as a bunny
For Limerick and Haiku Prompt at Mad Kane's Humor Blog. The theme is Money.
Flightless
He couldn't remember when the change came. It swept up everything that was sad and hurtful, good and happy. It swallowed everything like a piece of cheesecake that went down like silk. The intensity of the change found its way to the owner and preyed on him endlessly, turning him into candy floss that slipped between the wind and the stars. It ceased to stop even when it hit a great wall. It climbed over the wall and chased after the owner as he ran into the night. Finally the owner fell down and could run no more. He let the change took over him and turned him into a flightless dark bird.
The dark bird had forgotten everything good and happy but also everything that made him sad. His wings grew back in the summer and he flew around the world without any memories of what happened. His mind a blank canvas but still full of intense emotions that he cannot decipher. He often had dreams where he was a man. He did not understood why he had those dreams, only that their images lingered long after the dream was forgotten.
He often wished for a companion but his loneliness kept him trapped in his caged heart. He cannot helped but keep to himself.
One day he saw a beautiful woman with long red hair walking along the shore. He wanted so much to speak with her but he had no voice of his own. He flew close by but she didn't notice him. He was but a bird.
The woman suddenly smiled and waved to someone. Her face shined so brightly, it almost glowed like the sun. The dark bird's mind suddenly filled with tender images of this woman's face. He made a sound that caught the woman's attention but she soon turn away towards the man that was running to meet her. The dark bird flew towards the woman, making more sounds but the woman just ignored him. She waved her arms for him to go away. The man with blonde hair came and shooed him away, putted his arms around the woman and rushed her away in a red car.
The dark bird had no choice but to fly away, back to his lonely home in the sky. He watched from above at the moving red car, following it with his eyes. He nearly flew into another bird.
That night he dreamt of the woman. In the dream, he was a man holding the woman in his arms. They laughed and kissed with no care in the world. The feelings for this woman was so strong, it triggered a memory in the dark bird.
When the dark bird woke up, he knew instantly that the woman was his former true love. She had left him on a dark and cold night when the rain fell down in heavy successions. She had changed into someone new, someone unfamiliar to him. She had fallen in love with someone else, she told him in a cold voice. He was just not right for her. She wanted someone who can afford luxury cars and big houses with high ceilings. She said he was a loser, someone she could never be with. He had no words to say. He knew he couldn't make her stay.
Then came the final words that cut deep into his subconscious, "I never want to see you again." She walked out the door where a man was waiting outside for her, a blonde hair man with vacant eyes and a flashy, red sports car. He had peeked through the curtains and saw them kissing before driving away.
It was then that he had wished to be someone else. Someone who wasn't him. He cried himself to sleep and when he woke up, he remembered nothing but the one dream where he was chased by something, something that completely changed him. All he knew was, he was a bird whose wings had been clipped.
Now the dark bird wandered the sky. His heart, heavy as stone, his mind, full of memories that he cannot erase. He wished he could go back to the moment when he made that wish. But as the days go by, the allure of the sky pushed those memories farther away. Soon the dark bird's memories faded away, leaving only a faint dream.
This is for Fiction Friday: Write a scene that ends with your character saying: 'I never want to see you again.' Get the Fiction Friday code. About Fiction Friday.
And also for Friday 5: floss, intense, prey, cease, swallow.
Blog Award
Michelle at Poefiti awarded me with the A Roar For Powerful Words! I'm suppose to list three things that I believe are necessary to make writing good and powerful. I'm not so good at giving advice but since I have to, here they are:
1. Write even when you know you're writing crap, something good might come out of it.
2. Reading is a very inspirational tool, whether it's fiction, non-fiction, poetry, or just plain writing from other people.
3. Got nothing to write? Just write words on paper, it doesn't have to make sense and it doesn't have to mean anything. Just write.
I would give this award back to Michelle but she already got one and so here's the five people I like to share this:
Blogforth
Courting Destiny
Creative Karina
La Vie Graphite
Write Away
Mystery Gift
He was dreaming of yesterday when a light knock on his heavy, new iron door woke him, followed by more knocks, each sounding more unsure than the first.
He opened his eyes but didn't feel like getting out of bed. He tucked his head under the pillow and fell back to dreaming. The knocks continued, louder than before. Soon, he couldn't ignored them anymore.
He lifted his sleepy body out of bed, feeling the aches and pain in every parts of his body. He was ready to strike the person on the other side of the door with his trusty baseball bat that he brought just two days after the robbery and three days before the gossip of his demise.
He stationed himself against the door but the naive school boy feeling stuck in his mind. Using his good eye, he nervously peeked through the circular hole, saw nothing but a shadow. He shouted, "Who's there?!" as loud and as strong as he can muster this early in the am.
Then a crushing sound of woods falling and someone with heavy boots running away, shook the floors. Chills ran down his spine and tingled down to his hands forcing him to dropped the baseball bat with a loud bang.
He was too shaken to pick up the bat. The pain in his shoulder pulsed through his body. As much as it scared him, he knew there was nothing left that can be taken from him. He slowly turned the dead bolt, removed the chain and opened the door trying not to make too much noise. The brightly lit hallway was empty. He turned his head all around the small space but there was no one around.
He looked down to see a big wooden box marked with "Oranges from Florida" printed in big red letters, slapped with a big white sticker with his name and address elegantly handwritten on it. He checked a few times but found no return address anywhere on the box.
He walked down the hallway back and forth but still found nothing, not even dirt from the outside. He hesitantly picked up the heavy box, took it inside, locking the door behind him.
He dropped the box in the center of his empty living room and sat in the only chair that he still owned. He stared at it, wondering who sent it or why it was here. He turned ideas around in his head but finally decided to go back to sleep.
Back in the bed, the sheets had grown cold but he tucked himself in anyway. A sweet scent came into the bedroom, waking up his senses. He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. The sweet scent stayed in the room, growing stronger as the minutes ticked by. He hid his head under the pillow but the scent was too strong.
Finally he dragged himself out of bed, walked up to the box and pull it open with a screwdriver. Inside, he found beautiful, perfectly round oranges, carefully arranged in rows of three. Their sweet and heavenly scent only grew stronger, enveloping the room like a fog.
He picked up one orange and studied it in his hand. The contrast between his bruised hand and this beautiful object struck him so profoundly that he felt warm tears down his dry cheeks. He inhaled the sweet scent and felt strangely happy. Whoever had sent them, he was grateful. The only thing the robber had not took was his love of oranges.
For 3WW using the words: Gossip, Naive, Station.
The Moon
the moon is following me
a feeling of wistfulness
overwhelm me with ire
I stare without awe
and start throwing rocks at it
striking just the right spot
it flicker once, twice
then falls into the still water
leaving no ripples
there it lays waiting
a flat marble upon the world
it tells me to jump in
I laugh a quiet laugh
I wonder if I should and
what harm would it do?
I smile not knowing why
and run straight towards the water
my feet barely touch ground
my heart racing like mad
near the water, feeling fearless
I jump without rue
into the white moon
sending ripples everywhere
breaking the silent night
I begin to sink
all the way down, into the blue canvas
drifting ever slowly
to the bottomless cold
where it force me to wake up and
open my eyes to see
through the thin layer of
moving water, the moon
now hangs high above
a fractured self
for a moment, all is calm
I swim to the surface
out of the bleak water
I look up at the moon and
wonder what I saw
up there, the moon still waits
for what? I haven't any idea
why does it make me feel so blue?
For One Deep Breath
Monday Morning
their sad faces conspire
their lonely hearts
empty spaces between riders
a sign of confinement
lost in thoughtlessness
she looks out the window
at the sunrise
surprisingly beautiful on this cold day
delays seem inevitable
everything stops
voices subsides to bitterness
she breaths a sigh of exhaustion
train moves then stops
she looks out again at the sky of clouds
cell phones ringing happy jingles
anger appears in their faces
babies crying in conjoin screams
mommies shouting "No, no, no crying!"
train moves again in a steady pace
then stops, voices moaning
sleepy faces collapses into tire hands
as the train starts again, then stops
announcement of another delay
curses all around
she looks out to the sky
then at her watch, 9:20
"great!"
she grunts, "late again!"
monday morning
wish she could call in sick
Ride the Monday Poetry Train.
Spellbound
Image by Isuchy from Photobucket
there you are on the wall
hoping to enthrall
anything that will recall
a memory like a collect call
waiting for someone to see you
in all your wonderful hue
if only they would form a queue
to drive away the yearning blue
your heart lay wide
in hopes of catching someone's eye
faceless smiles silently walk pass by
if only they wouldn't so shy
they would see themselves reflected there
they would easily unarm their fear
letting go of what they do not want to bare
seeing what could be here
if they could see your crimson pose
they would wonder if anyone knows
what's hiding in that seductive rose
that sends them into a state of mental woes
into a distant memory of an embrace
across the universe to some forgotten place
they would feel an urge to chase
the aspirations that they had wasted
they would smile anyway without knowing why
they would get a feeling of wanting to fly
and yet they would instinctively wanting to see the sky
knowing it would be a temporary high
they would drown in tears at the sight of you
remembering something so skew
if only they know why you're so blue
if only they have a clue
of what you can do
of the powers you accrue
you're only there to exude
thoughts of what they want to eschew
Read more Monday Mural here.
Over the horizon
take one step
that is all
only one
if you will
no one's gonna know
where you've been
take one step
open your eyes
let there be morning
over the horizon
a new beginning
no need to cry anymore
take one step
see yourself anew
no need to lock yourself in
no memories
no yesterdays
just you
take one step
towards the horizon
towards tomorrow
it's over now
time to remember new memories
just
take one step
only one
towards the unlock door
This entry is for Writers Island.
Buy a friend a book - Jan '08
UPDATE: Contest closed. I've decided to give the three blogger who commented here, each a book of their choice. I won't be doing another BAFAB until October. Thanks for playing.
Once again it's Buy A Friend A Book during the first week of January. Go here for more information. To enter, just leave a comment on this post for your chance to win a book of your choice from Amazon.com ($20 maximum). Winner will be announced here and will be notify by email. Last day to enter is January 8. Winner will be announce on January 9 or later that week. Good luck.
10 random books that I recommended:
01. Goodbye Tsugumi by Banana Yoshimoto
02. The Princess Bride: S Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure by William Goldman
03. The Elephant Vanishes: Stories by Haruki Murakami
04. This year it will be different by Maeve Binchy
05. Reading like a writer by Francine Prose
06. The Pocket Muse Endless Inspiration: New Ideas for Writing by Monica Wood
07. Somewhere In Time by Richard Matheson
08. Anna May Wong: From Laundryman's Daughter to Hollywood Legend by Graham Russell Gao
09. How to Be Lovely: The Audrey Hepburn Way of Life by Melissa Hellstern
10. If i knew, don't you think i'd tell you? by Jann Arden
Lies and Deception
This entry is for Mad Kane's Limerick and Haiku Prompt. This week's theme: lies and deception.
lies you tell me are cheap
like your icy kisses and hugs
I don't want to keep
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
all the lies you tell me will soon depart
I see without eyes your deceptive art
tell the truth, don't stall
trust all or nothing at all
I don't suppose you understand my heart
Gone
This entry is for Fiction Friday. This Week’s Challenge: What is the first New Year's Resolution your character breaks? How soon? Why?
Get the Fiction Friday code
About Fiction Friday
She was better off without me. I told her so many times. I was a monster, an utter image of self-destruction, a sight no one should have seen. She tried, many, many times to save me. It was her way of protecting me.
She searched for me sometimes, in the spaces only she thinks I would be. What she didn't know was that I often stayed, hidden behind her, her shadow, I call myself. It was the best way I knew how to live.
She shouldn't have tried to help me, her poor, pathetic baby brother. She was trying her best to stop me from doing another stupid thing. If only she hasn't been there. If only she hasn't found me. If only she wasn't the responsible older sister. If only there was some way to turn back the clock to the last two months of my life.
She should had know better. Or I should have know better. Why was I so easy seduced by a bottle with liquid that can erase myself, my thoughts, my painful mistakes? Why had I made the one and only resolution if I wasn't going to keep it? It was two months ago that I went back to the bottle, to the comfort of numbness and dreams. I stumbled and fell onto myself. In the hours of midnight, I drove the car that shouldn't have been. I stepped on the gas and drove myself and her, into a tree, a harmless tree.
She was gone, in just a moment, a flash of the mind, a split second that cause so much pain for my mother, my father and myself. Forever trapped inside herself, in a body that refused to wake up, a body that ceased to exist in this world. And me? I only lost the one thing that was important to me - my sister, the one and only person who ever believed in me.
She was there all the time even when I screamed at her, even when I hurt her, physically and emotionally. She was there to keep me alive in this weak body that refused to change. Now, there's just me to stop myself from destroying myself.
Here, in this moment, my brain, my body, continued to yearned for that elusive thing that makes me fly high above the clouds, away from the pain, the memory. But I had put a stop to that. For now.
Dreaming
This entry is for Friday 5 at Poefusion. This week's words vellum, moss, reminisce, distorted, fiction.
dreaming, wide awake
running through the tall moss that hid the sun
stepping on wet dirt, sticking to my feet
drifting ever so slowly
down someone else's world
down a road untraveled
inside a distorted heart
covered in vellum
unhinged by time
the rain unending
falling and sinking into my skin
leaving a stain
I stopped running
there, standing in the distance
I saw him, his eyes blue, clear as day
sparkling like the sun
almost blinding me
his face, obscured by the rain
blurred like a distance mirage
I called his name
I ran closer
he waved to me to stop
fingers dripping with water, pointing up at the dark sky
he started to run, disappearing into the tall moss
I ran after him
round and round I ran but
he was gone
in his place
a stone with three letters - I.L.Y.
picking it up, I looked around once more
but he was gone
I touched the cool surface of the stone
up in the sky, the rain had stopped
the sun came out
its warm beam fell on my skin
like a warm hug from him
was this a reminiscence
of something long forgotten?
or was it fiction created by my foggy mind?
Mirror Mirror
This entry is for January Project at Cafe Writing for Option Four: Poetry.
“In silence and movement you can show the reflection of people.”
— Marcel Marceau
Using the quotation above as your inspiration, write a poem (any form is fine) about reflection.
inside the mirror she sees
a blurry mass of flesh
the colors fading upon her misplace skin
wavering in and out of the white space of time
"where am I?" she ask the face on the other side
fingers pointing in disappointment
"why is she here?"
she turns her fingers into a fist
and smash it against the cheek of the other face
slivers of lines begins to swim in zigzags
emerging cracks still reflects bits and pieces of her
she stares at them with cold eyes
pulls her hand inward, observes the breaking skin
feeling no pain
she turns back to the mirror
and screams "why can I see myself???"
Yesterday
This entry is for January Project at Cafe Writing for Option Two: Pick Three from these words: breathless, change, elusive, pensive, reflect, surge, tide, vibrant.
breathless, she runs to nowhere
elusive, she loses her only true love
pensive, she thinks of yesterday
nowhere, she sees herself
love, she doesn't have anymore
herself, she wonders if she can move on
Loose button
This entry is for 3WW. This week's words are Button, Luck, Pretend.
I am not going to pretend the button is not falling off. The shininess of its round shape with the four holes hinges on a thin thread and yet I refuse to pull it. It would be just my luck that it would fall off at the most inconvenient time - like when I am eating my cream and chicken soup. That it would fall off into the milky cream pool of white flakes and yellow corns. That it would sink to the bottomless bowl that seem to be bigger than usual. My only wish that it would not fall off into someone else's soup where they might choke and die.
As I try to keep it intact, I noticed how the light reflects in them. Even in this dim candlelight environment, it shines, almost effortlessly. I turn to Sam but he was too busy flirting with the skinny blonde facing him. Doesn't he know it's impolite to flirt with someone else when your girlfriend is sitting next to you? Doesn't he care that the button on my dress might fall off revealing the black bra that I am wearing? Does he even have the slightest idea that I can't stand to see him flirt with anyone who weights half of me? I can only image myself trying to put on that black dress that will only fit into one of my legs before it would deteriorate into bits and pieces on the ground.
I turn to my right, to my best friend, Emily, she has a sort of an angry look to her face, not looking at me but her brother, Sam. She suddenly turn to smile at me and offer me more bread. I smile and told her I had enough even though I had not eaten anything, not even the tempting creamy soup with the silver spoon in my hand. I try to smile to let her know not to worry about me but I don't think it work. Emily smiled and excuse herself to go to the restroom.
Looking down at the button that is still hanging loosely - almost at the point of falling, numbing thoughts goes through my brain. I want to pull it off but fear it might bring bad luck to me. I don't know where I had this lotion about buttons falling off and bad luck but it stuck with me.
I tuck at the threads trying to tighten them but it wouldn't budge. I survey around the table to see if anyone's looking at me but they are all occupy with each other. I turn to Sam but he seem to be in deep conversation with the blonde whose dress now seem to be cut lower than before. I can see half of her nipple. I turn away quickly for fear she would notice that I was looking at her breast. Why did I do that? I turn back to my button. My shiny button.
Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and forcefully yanks it off. There. It's off. I don't care what bad luck it brings. I feel a little relief but not at all calm. The anger that I usually conceal during these dinner dates, starts to take over.
So what if my bra's showing? So what if my boos sticks out like two hat air balloons on a sunny day? I have a right to show....
Sam covers me with his arms and leads me out to the other room. "What are you doing? Do you want the world to see your breasts? What's come over you? Do you want to embarrass me? Isn't it enough that I give you money and help you pay your rent and various unnecessary things?"
I can only reply with a smile. Somehow my angry subsides. I cannot help but ignore his words and throw him a look of content. His face turning red, now angry and not at all amuse.
"What's going on?" he asked but I could find no reply to his questions. His voice starts to escalate as the questions keeps coming out of his mouth. I can only shrug my shoulder as if I didn't understand what he was saying.
"Why are you being this way? Isn't it enough I agree to marry you and raise our child together? I thought we had an agreement. I thought we agree we can see other people."
"You had an agreement. I just nodded my head." My smile now fading.
"Cass?!!!! What are you saying? I thought we agree I can have a girlfriend. We had an agreement. Are you backing out on me?" Sam turns to the various paintings on the wall. Then he turns back to me and grabs my arms, pressing his fingernails into my skin.
"Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life tie to someone with a...a...with someone who still lives with their parents? Someone who couldn't even pass a simple test for a driver's license? Do you think I would agree to marry you if you wouldn't pregnant? I'm trying to do the right thing here."
I said nothing. He removes his hands off my arms leaving fade red marks. I stare at him blankly now, with my arms wrap around myself.
"We had an agreement." his voice lower a quota as talking to a child. "Cass, I told you I didn't love you anymore, remember? Last month? What more do you want from me?!!!" His voice raising again with this last line.
Emily shows up and starts yelling at him. "Hey, if it isn't for Cass, you wouldn't get a chance to have kids, what's with your low sperm count and all. I regretted the day that I introduced Cass to you. I didn't realize you're such a jerk. Come on Cass." Emily pulls me by the arm away from Sam and his red face. If only I wasn't having a child, his child, I would have leave him without any thought. If only.
Back at the table, I could not help but smile at every face even with their nervous looks. The walls of this particular house wasn't thick enough and everyone heard every single word. Embarrass by their stares, Sam lower his head as he sip his soup silently. I continue to smile and even starts to enjoy my soup.
Anti-Resolutions for 2008
This entry is fro Write Stuff's New Year’s Anti-Resolutions. Have a happy and healthy new year!
01. I will not turn into the Incredible Hulk and run around the mall destroying store mirrors that make me look fat.
02. I will not take clouds shots while hanging on the edge of the Empire State Building while eating a hotdog.
03. I will not try to buy a Strand bookstore so I can lower the price on paperbacks.
04. I will not fly an airplane to Canada just so I can see snow.
05. I will not travel back in time just to tell myself to get a better haircut.
06. I will not buy a Hummer and accidently smash it against my ex's just to show him I have a bigger car.
07. I will not take revenge on the guy that keeps stepping on my toes during my commute to work.
08. I will not slap the salesman when he refuse to take an item back.
09. I will not answer any emails that tells me to get a bigger hard drive (and I don't mean my computer).
10. I will not hang on the chandelier just to dust the ceiling.
lissa
