I looked up. There, in front of me, she walked with another guy.
She turned slightly, and I caught her eyes straying to me. She stopped walking, turning her gaze to the man walking with her, then back to me again. I held my breath, and watched her with a hopeful eyes. I am sorry, I told her with my eyes. I will not let you go again. Please come back to me.
At first she looked indecisive, but then her gaze turned determined. She faced the man beside her and let go of the hand holding hers. She bowed quickly, said some words I couldn’t hear, then walked towards me, never looking back at the heart-broken face the guy had on.
I greeted her with smile, hands opened. She forgives me.
A hand touched my back, and loud voice broke me from my imagination. I gave an unintelligible grunt to the owner of the hand, eyes still on the back of my girl. My ex-girl who was still walking away from me, eyes never looking at me.
She didn’t forgive me. She wouldn’t.
I didn’t know how long I stood like that, stopped in the darkness. But then something happened. Something that seemed negligible at first, when my mind was prevented from thinking by fear; fear of the unknown in the black, in the darkness. A small, minuscule light lit up; I can see it from the corner of my eyes. And I ignored it for some time, because it did not seem important enough; not when I cannot even think. But after some time, the minuscule light didn’t seem all that tiny anymore, and I can feel my body subconsciously moved toward the light without any intent, desire, or control from my mind.
As I feel my body moved. my mind also started wheeling, thinking. And then all I can see and think of was the light. I moved toward it with hope, toward the destiny that I will reach with my own mind and body.
Ah… another fail one. The man is not so…manly here, more child-like. But I am fairly content with this.
I don’t understand pingback yet, so I’ll just include the link here : http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/weekly-writing-challenge-1000-words-three/ Continue reading
Black. I cannot see anything in front of me. I cannot decide whether to move forward, take a step back, or turn around. I am hopelessly lost; not able – not brave enough – to move even a step. I have no purpose. And now everything is black. I cannot see anything anymore.
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.