Here’s an Entry for Creative Writing Challenge: Metamorphosis. I lost my interest halfway into the story (even though it is so short), so I am sorry if you don’t like the way it ends. (I tried to continue it, but it just won’t do) And my head isn’t completely right when I wrote it, so my grammar will be…devastating. That’s my warning.
“You lied to me”
My voice broke at the middle, showing just how betrayed I felt. I didn’t think he was capable of something like that, but I couldn’t just ignore all the evidence, and although I had tried, really tried to believe in him, even I couldn’t just forget the photo one of my friends had shown to me.
He looked frantic, maybe because of the tears decorating my face. He was never good with crying woman, I remembered him saying that once. So I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then rubbed my eyes harshly, trying to stop the tears. I wouldn’t take advantage of that weakness of his, as I had promised myself before.
Finally he succeeded in breaking out of his stupor. “I can explain.” He stuttered out, but his eyes held mine with determination in them, and I realized I still knew the man in front of him. I still knew him, even though he had lied to me.
“Don’t bother,” I said to him, and I smiled when he opened his mouth desperately, trying to convince me to hear him out, undoubtedly. “Just don’t do it again.”
Because I knew I still love him, and he still loved me. He wouldn’t try to hurt me deliberately. I knew he won’t. And that, I can believe for ever.
I look at the list of names, desperately trying to find my own name. The first time I read over it, nothing. The second time, nothing. The third time, nothing. I am going to read it again when a hand touch my shoulder tentatively. I glance at the owner of said hands, and tears build up in my eyes when he shakes his head slowly. His eyes is mirroring my own despair, but he leans closer to me and whispered, “It’s okay. It will be alright.”
It is not okay. It won’t be alright. I fail, and it is the truth. Nothing is going to change that. But I look at him, and put my head on his chest, then breathes out, “Yeah.”
Because he is here with me, and I trust him.
I need to breath. I need some space. They are everywhere, looking for my weakness, always watching. I am never alone. I am not free. But when I see him, I forget about my watchers. I forget about my need to be discreet. I ran up to him, the person I haven’t seen in years. And destroying my own life in process. But that’s okay. I just need a moment with him, and everything will be okay. Even when it is not. Because with him, I can breath.