Beautiful night so save a relationship.
Echoes stumble and stutter over the horizon’s edge somehow finding their way into our laps. Resting momentarily, they all but disappear into the wash of darkness that enfolds and imprisons us with invisible borders and “No Trespassing” signs. (Yes I’m a poet, so shoot me). Lingering on the tips of our fingers they even find shelter in the crease of your neck, tilted upward, searching for something in the sky. I’m not entirely sure what, maybe the faint, fleeting shadow of redemption, but I’m not about to break the silence to find out. You tell me anyway, as if reading my mind and ignoring what you find. Maybe if I wish, your words will slide right off my shoulders before I can catch them...
“...can you see?”
I would say I wasn’t listening, but if that were the case, how could I repeat what she just said? I don’t think she likes me talking to you and not her. A punch - hard enough to make me jump from my position, sprawled across a vast, serpentine tree-root – conforms this.
“See what, sorry.”
“Up there!”
I nod, sleepily, without even looking and she sighs...
“Don’t you even care?”
Ha. What a cliché.
I think for a moment before deciding that I probably do care...
But I’m not going to let her know that,
“We best go.”
“Yeah, well it was nice talking.”
Sarcasm. Nothing beats it. Especially when it comes served as ice cold and acerbic as that. I guess she’s pretty pissed off – trust me you have to push her hard before she’ll resort to such a low form of wit (partly, I think, because she doesn’t quite understand it).
No problem, I reply. No problem at all...
Ouch.
She hits me again, this time I can feel her intentions ripple on my skin. That was meant to hurt. I just kiss her in return, hoping this is the right thing to do. She shrugs away but I know she appreciates it. Call it big-headed, but I know.
What’s the point in arguing, when these are only seconds that we’ll never get back...
“I’m sorry”
I’m not.
“OK”
She knows it.
I mean, why should I be?
In fact, why did I bother apologising? I’d tried to keep quiet up to then, tried and succeeded in preserving the last vestiges of peace, then blowing them away like a butterfly caught in a liquidizer...what a pointless waste (of tranquility and of that subtle-as-a-sledgehammer expression). I wish, for once, that I would just make sense.
She’s probably thinking that too...
An omniscient narrator would know for sure.
Alas, I am not...or maybe --
“Do you love me?”
Wow.
How do I answer that 12 gauge shotgun crack of a question? Oh, of course, the truth.
“Yes.”
And this, I know is true, a. just because I do and b. I wouldn’t even try to lie about a thing like that (there are just too many complications). This doesn’t go down as well as I expected...
“But do you?”
Bam. And that’s the second barrel. I might as well have said no and saved myself a whole load of hassle (not to mention a re-arranged face).
“Yes.”
Not that this IS a whole load of hassle, I’m just lazy, can’t explain myself and have a low annoyance threshold. These three things, you see, are why we’re here tonight. Now even a non-omniscient prick like me knows what will happen next, she will ask;
“Are you sure?”
See, told you so. And I will say;
“Yes”
Yet again.
And she, just being absolutely, positively, completely and utterly clear about this will say;
“How do you know?”
And the fact is, I don’t know how I know.
But I do know how I do as well. It’s just there, knowing itself is there. Self-aware yet with no comprehension of its own existence, it must be one of the biggest paradoxes ever devised.
Like I said, I wish I made sense.
And how in the hell do you explain that to anyone if you’re one for fumbling your words into the wrong holes and spaces, let alone a whole freaking sentence.
So I try...and fail (some would say “try to fail”). At least for a time before the novelty of it wears off. This annoys me on two levels: 1 – the fact I can’t explain myself and 2 – the fact I’m so goddamn lazy that even if I could I probably wouldn’t. I’m just like that.
What’s worse is making me upset means making me angry, it's just inevitable, I don’t know why, they just go hand-in-hand. It's just my way of...releasing it, I suppose.
“I just do, I can’t explain it”
This, it seems, is enough for now.
***
It’s not as easy as it sounds...
Love.
(Yes I know, roll out the violins, lah-de-fucking-dah).
But we cope and I like to think I make her happy. Damnit though, I wish she’d show it more, I know she probably thinks I’m just being “sweet” or whatever when saying this, but just one smile, one damn smile from her. I’m fed up of asking (it’s never the same if you have to ask) but I won’t stop, just in case one day she flashes me a genuine zinger rather than a “does this make you happy?”, ultimately feeble, substitute.
“Shit. Oh for – what the hell – stupid fuck --”
My foot’s stuck. Damn you bastards for distracting me...talk about tripping over your words.
“What, what have you done?”
“Nothing, just give me a hand”
“Get out yourself, you clumsy pratt”
Fine. So much for saving our relationship.
I pull myself free.
And that’s when it happens...
She stumbles.
She pleads.
It’s ignored.
A slow thud.
A harsh crack.
Now who’s the fucking clumsy one. If we were in a tricky spot before, well this just goes and takes the biscuit. Takes it, eats it, digests it, shits it back out and then force feeds it into our mouths before stapling them shut. Christ.
***
Miraculous. She’s fine.
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.
“Why didn’t you give me your hand?”
Why didn’t I give her my hand.
To this I have no response other than, “You’re fine though aren’t you”
Oh jesus...her face...her FACE. It’s just...
Caved in.
“No thanks to you”
“Hurrlllpp meeurgh...”
Just walk away; these are seconds we’ll never get back.
“We best get on”
“I...I”. Someone else is here. Run.
“Oh fuck, what was that?!”
“It’s them”
It is.
***
I don’t know who they are. I don’t know how they are. But everywhere we go, they are just...there. And every time, they’re just that little bit closer...
One man. One woman. No one else, just them.
We HAVE to get away. So we run. For...
“I’m thirsty”
...hours and it’s starting to show.
“There’s a stream just past there”. I point.
“How...how do you...”
Now she is suspicious. I claim to have never been here before and yet I know there is a stream, just past there. And there is. I’m kinda suspicious myself...
***
Finally, I stop running at a stream...fairly fast flowing and curving round a bend, with sediment building up on one side. I’m on that side.
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.
Focus. FOCUS.
I pick up a stone. I don’t know why, it must be a childhood thing I suppose...and I skim it. Splish, splish, splish. Three times.
Must get better.
Must calm down...
Go back, you gotta go back.
I go back.
I wish I hadn’t.
***
She sits and sips, cupping the water, caressing it with her lips as if she's scared to hurt such a body of innocence. Maybe because it's something we haven't been for a long, long time.
As she performs this...ritual...I skim a small white stone. I have always loved skimming stones. I don’t know why...maybe the patterns they make, or the fact they try and defy the water its meal for as long as possible...dancing above the mouth of death and just accepting it when they’re swamped and swallowed whole.
“Feeling better?”
“Since when did you ever care about that?”
“I love you”
At this moment she hates me.
“I know”
Can’t even bring herself to return the sentiment or even to dispute my claim. We really are on the rocks.
“Let’s go”
Let’s go. This break will have cost us dear, but by now I’m not entirely sure I care anymore.
Just before we go, I notice something half-buried in the sand. Something so out of place with these serene surroundings that it makes my heart beat just a little faster...a...skull? Before I have time to investigate, we’re off.
Maybe it wasn’t.
Just a trick of the mind.
***
Blood everywhere.
I think she must have drowned in it.
You gotta get her out of here man.
The stream.
The stream. That’s it then.
I couldn’t even save our relationship.
Let alone her life.
NO. You left her intentionally.
In both.
***
They are so close now. I can almost feel their breath on the back of my neck, almost taste the slightly rotting odour in my mouth.
I can sense every movement they are making. And every move they are about to make.
Yet I, we, can never get away –
“OH GOD”
Shitfuckfuckshitfuck. They’re here. So why the fuck am I still talking to y—
--
--
***
She’s heavier than she looks.
And it's further than I remember.
But up ahead is the stream, with the first few shades of grey perforating the lowest strata of the sky and illuminating the hills and valleys creating and displacing themselves on the surface. She would have loved it. Such a glorious place. Gloriously pointless now.
I find it ironic how throughout all this nature still carries on...still tries to put on a show. Ican't help but stop and stare...though I can't stay out in the open for very long, not like this anyway.
5 minutes.
Just 5 minutes.
And all of a sudden I am mentally sick
***
I know what happened. I know who they are. It doesn’t rush to me, it doesn’t flood through me in one almighty flashback, it just appears, there, in my memory and I know.
It's us.
And now I’m alone.
She’s dead.
And has finally caught up with me.
***
I lay her body in the stream and (struggle to) place a large rock behind her, a headpiece I suppose, for this makeshift mausoleum.
I stand in the stream in the same spot that I laid her. The rock is still there.
She isn’t.
Wandering back, I find the perfect pebble...small, flat, round, as perfect as we never were. I pick up the stone.
There’s no going back now. I see a perfect pebble...small, flat, round, resting above the heavier silt. I pick up the stone.
No.
Bone.
...and skim it as hard as I can at the rock.
I skim it as hard as I can at the shore.
First time.
Well...there’s nothing else left to do now is there?
Just walk away...
...and forget.
Apart from breath.
One last time.
Or don’t.
Crack.
***
It ends in a place with no love only hate
And a mirror reflecting the truth
In your eyes, in your face you can't wash it away
From your cold, cold heart
- Folding Stars, Biffy Clyro
And a mirror reflecting the truth
In your eyes, in your face you can't wash it away
From your cold, cold heart
- Folding Stars, Biffy Clyro
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Comments
1 - 32 of 32
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I have not had a chance to read this carefully, but from what I have read it seems like a great section out of a novel. Is this your aim? It's a great story line with amazing phrasing that really captures interest and has a winning tone to it.
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This is extremely surreal, but with moments of such raw clarity. Your descriptions are hauntingly beautiful. I think the choppiness works - the spacing and interjections from different corners of your conscience - but I think you can cut down on a little bit of dialogue and monologue at the beginning. That way, the erraticness and sense of panic can build and then soften and slow toward the end (as it already does quite effectively.)
I love your play with metaphors and themes - stones, streams, etc. These elements are often turned cliche by lesser writers, but your ideas are always uniquely executed.
This made alot more sense when I read this a second time. I think there might be things you can do to make what happened more clear. There's absolutely nothing wrong with not wanting to compromise your style, but it's also hard to get people invested in something they can't understand without reading the footnotes. And I know that when you finish something, its hard to go back and edit without feeling like you are chipping away at the purity of the piece. However, the editing process is actually sort of like a crucible - it helps you remove the extraneous stuff that only serves to convolute the story.
I think this is an awesome piece, but it has the potential to be truly amazing with a bit of work.
Anywho, sorry it took me so long to get around to reading this! I'm glad I finally did. Very inspiring, evocative work my friend. -
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I actually editted this quite a lot in the somewhat vain hope that I would get through in Teen Idol. My story was still the best and my lyrics weren't bad either and I stand by that! The only time I will laud (how do you spell that) myself is when I feel agrieved lol. All the others wrote cliched...well...they were barely even stories. Nevertheless they got through, I didn't, fairplay!
Thanks for the comment, it was worth waiting for. I just have to write something new now =/ -
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Well, ya know, the judges around here don't always know what they're talking about. In fact, few of them do. And as pedantic as I sound half the time, I don't know everything either - not by a long shot! Just remember to keep your convictions about your work and to take everything with a grain of salt on this site. If you know it's good, don't let some silly prats with low comprehension levels tell you otherwise. Most people get mad when they can't understand things and react by rejecting them, and face it kid, your natural talent and originality goes over the heads of most of the ADULTS I read on this site. In fact, you should be proud to NOT be Teen Idol, in my opinion. A truly exceptional writer will rarely be recognized by a mediocre majority.
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Problem is these weren't just some greasy-haired spotted oiks (a friend's expression lol), they were some of the "best" (though I think one was slightly biased)
I get mad when I don't understand things! Like Trigonometry and Logarithms!!!! GRRRRR
I love the last line, that's awesome and I am very flattered, so thank you
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Wow, I just read the poem enter'd in my contest and decided to read this. This was truley Amazing. I can tell you like to put alot of work in your pieces. That's a great habit. The only part I didn't get was how did she die when she fell, but you guys ran to the stream? Hm, lol. Nice job though.
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She died because she hit her head
And he was a coward and was scared so ran away
I really appreciate you taking the extra time to read this as well as the poem, it means a lot
Good luck with your contest!
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I agree mainly with Tyler.
My biggest annoyance was the spacing though - too much for such a little piece. It over ran so much within this and really drew a lot of intensity from the piece itself.
However - the metaphors and imagery were something that stood this piece to direct light.
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Fair enough
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this is so freaking amazing. i'm pretty sure i got the whole thing [one thing i didn't catch on was that she died when she fell because he ran away but i read that in the comments lol] i'm am in absolute awe of your talent ^^
KEEP WRITING!!!
you're amazing, you should definitely be published somehow. -
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Thanks so much for being the first person to read and comment the poem AND the story, I really do appreciate that
And I am glad you liked it!
I'd love to get published some day
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no problem, i totally loved it all!!! very well done, it was my pleasure [so cliche but i mean it ^^]
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It is a unique voice in this. I remember being confused when you were showing me this whether you were talking to me, or it was part of the story. You know, I was actually surprised with the beginning as the indepth writing reminded me of some rally good author - except I can't put my finger on who it is. It's really, I don't even know how to explain it - but it's really good. I'll be seconding [?] tyler in saying that if you do improve on this, you can be published - it's brilliant!
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I know you can say "I second him" so I presume you can say I will do it too...I'm glad you enjoyed it, I really appreciate it and will probably write more from now on
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The conversation part was very confusing. I had to go back a few times to see who was saying what. Sometimes you weren't clear as to what was going on either - like when she needed to help. I think if you elaborated more on that, the image of the whole situation would be more clear - even though you did bring it about in the conversation; however, the conversation isn't enough. You have to be selfless, because you aren't just writing for yourself in this case, but an audience too. Make sure they know everything so they can understand the message you are trying to convey; showing instead of telling always helps.
It's like writing a newspaper article. You have to include all the details - but not too many. It's the same exact thing here, only the writing is more creative and metaphorical.
Not only does your poetry have a unique voice, but your lyrics and your stories do too.
I really do like this. I think with some more work - perhaps in a creative writing class - you could build from this. If you work on story writing, I am sure you will be published. There is something special about your writing - I would guess because it is unique. Even though it was confusing, the writing itself in the paragraphs - with the imagery and metaphors - was excellent.
Overall, great job.
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I was worried my unique voice would be...too weird lol. So I'm glad I'm not.
And you're exactly right, must remember that, not just writing for myself!
Thanks
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Well Done
I don't think this is confusing at all. It's a very good story--worthy of being copyrighted and published in my opinion. You seemed just a bit rocky as far as conversation is concerned; I'm not certain people talk like that. But you really got into it in the middle and ending, and it was well-done. Since I may major in theatre, I can honestly say I would love to see this as a play script. It would be marvelous... -
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Thanks, I cleared up a lot of the confusing parts since the other day I think
And I agree somewhat with the speech lol.
Play-script...what a great idea. I always thought this story would be better visually, so much more could be done with it!
Thanks very much
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Okay, this was great. I like what you've got going here...
But it's so confusing! >.< The transition between the "his" and "her" parts wasn't clear, and where was the setting? And the part "he's right, they are here."... who is they?
Honestly, I liked the story a lot. Just a few corrections will make this spectacular.
And once you clarify some things, I'm going to be scared because this'll be so dang good.
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Could you take a second look?
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I know it's confusing, I like to make my reader's work lol
Who is they - exactly, this is unfinished! And I have a great idea for the ending, IF I can word it.
I'm just glad you liked it, I was worried the style would be too offputting with the intrusive narration.
I shall try and make it a little less confusing
Much appreciated x -
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OHHH
I had to read this new version twice to get it.
The first time I read it, I thought, "Oh, this is good, but what is it saying?" And the second time, I think I get it.
The parts in the italics are flashbacks to when she dies. The normal text is him today? Now that part I'm still kind of confused on, but I know it's just me because I'm stupid like that.
This ROCKED. You're going to do amazing this round.
(Oh, and if you don't mind, could you tell me a little bit about what this means? I probably know, but it's not jumping out at me, and I probably need to think a little bit more. )
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Yeah that's right
I will happily tell you...but tell me what you mean by "means" - do you mean the storyline, or do you mean hidden deep philosophical meaning
Glad you liked it x
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umm...
Both.
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Basically
A man and a woman on the brink of a break up go for a walk. He trips, she doesn't help him. She trips and he purposefully doesn't help her and she falls and "re-arranges her face". The man gets scared and runs away...then he comes back and she's dead, because he didn't help. He takes her to the stream and dumps her body. But he goes kind of crazy and keeps reliving the night and this time people are chasing them. The people are actually his real memories and they get closer and closer each time until finally they catch up with him and he realises what he has done. So he kills himself too.
Deeper meanings...you can't escape fate, the past will always come back to you, skimming stones is far more dangerous than it first looks () etc etc! Hope that helps!
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OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I'm a blonde. I knew this.
Way awesome, though.
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Glad you got it, sometimes it's nice for reassurance! Cheers lol x
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yup, and it figures, Tyler didn't like my story.
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I did!
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this is 300 words O.o
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Is it meant to be :S It's 2200
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It didn'd do any of my indentations. Man that pisses me off. So does not having "richtext" so now italics or anything. Grumbles
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