I stared at the ceiling of the bar. The tiles were all different colors, but you could tell that they were supposed to be all the same. There was nothing better to look at. The striving-to-be-scene band was nothing special, but they tired and I had to give them credit for that. It all just seemed to get really old, really fast. I switched my attention towards them as the lead tied his shoe on a fan’s handled knuckle, only to see a pale hand of a corpse-like bone. The hand was sickly looking, as the person was all together, but I could yet see her face. Her body swayed to the music and her spine could have turned into curls and she probably wouldn’t have noticed. Twisting and contorting to the emotion she put into her sway. The air was thick in smoke. I was used to it now. Actually, the smell of rage, and beer seemed to not be an acquired smell after all. The smell reminded me of the morning after she left. The morning air was thick and golem. Her soft legs peeking out from the covers of the sheet were all a guy could think to ask for. I remember looking at them as if I had felt the sudden urge to reach over and touch them, they would vanish if I had though. She was so sinister, yet so sweet. I mustn’t talk of her now.
It seems that lately I cannot handle the numerous memories it shakes me with. They seem to slip in my head every few hours and then rob me of all emotion and drown me in my own cautiousness of self pity. Pity was above me though. My attitude has gone up some in the past few months. Erica sometimes chose to make me beat myself up to please her. The Ice Princess in disguise, she was. My mother approved of her, but my father did not. She liked the way she dressed, which was almost the complete opposite of me, which of course was probably why she liked her. The day I brought her home, not meaning to sound like she was a new puppy, she wore a sunny yellow shirt. There was a pocket in the top left corner and I remember wondering why it was there if it wasn't even big enough to fit a quarter. My mother never liked the way I dressed. I could care less, but I felt bad when she would sign and turn away, so I tamed myself for the better. Erica and I had been together since our junior year. Everyone thought it was love, but I couldn’t feel it. She seemed to practically suck the life out of me at times. But other times--see now I have gotten started, thinking about her more and more. I have nothing better to do, so I’ll order another beer and then I’ll tell you about her.
When we really got things started, with our relationship that is, I was sitting at an empty table, thinking about my other ex, Claire. -Now, Claire was the type who was extremely materialistic. She tended to care what other people were thinking about her, but the worse part was that everyone could see it. Her hair wasn’t as silk-like as Erica’s was. But her smile was beautiful. It seemed to bring life into the room no matter how dull it was. She was a sultry miss with a bad attitude. Somehow that’s what attracted me to her. It was a phase, or as I was told, it was a phase. Aaron said it was at least. Aaron was my best guy. But he was a real ass-hole when it came to conclusions. He had a different way on thinking, let’s just say that. It was always “Blame the government” this “It’s the damn government’s fault” that. But I loved him like a brother anyways. Well Claire and Erica used to be close, but I think I had something to do with the separation, but I was too afraid to ask. You know how girls get. They get into a small fight, and it turns into a thunder storm. Lightening can only strike a man so hard. It's like that old ' If lightening struck a tree and it fell down, and no one was there to hear it, did it make a sound?' only this was more painful to describe. So, I was sitting at an empty table thinking, in deep thought I might add, but I’m not going to tell you much else other than it had to do with Claire, and Erica walked up to me and grabbed me by the arm. At first I was confused and she had hardly broken my concentration from Claire until she kissed me. I don’t know why she did it. I couldn’t help but think it was a dare or she lost a bet or something. To tell you the truth though, I had no idea who she was, but I kissed back. After that, she walked away as if nothing had happened. I was confused and acted like it was no big deal only because I could hear the rest of my lacrosse buddies 'oh-ing' at the moment.
They all rushed over and asked too many questions to answer. "Did you bang her last night or something?" said Aaron. Stereotypical guy statement. He always hopes to bring sex into the subject. The little perv. Luke and Tyler sat on either sides of me. Luke looked at her, most likely her ass, chick was nice by the way, and then looked back at me. "Dude, what was that for?", when he said this he made it sound like I did something wrong. "I-I dunno." I said cautiously. It was one of those moments you expect guy to make up some lame story about how they were up till 3 am shaking the bed, but I couldn’t do that since I had even talked to her. Degrading women is just not my thing. Somethign can get spread around to easily with friends liek mine. While the guys talked amongst themselves about the kiss, God knows why, Erica was standing in the corner of the courtyard with two other girls and another guy. I just looked at her and realized that I wasn’t thinking of Claire anymore. Maybe she could read minds and that’s why she kissed me: to stop my thinking of Claire because there wasn’t anything interesting to read my mind for unless she made something interesting. This was silly of course, but I didn’t care. Hey, it could happen.
Tony, another athlete preparing for scholarships, came around and sat across from me at the table. Aaron started to talk, but he interrupted him. "So she lost a bet, or she was dared?" I laughed on the inside because that was exactly what I was thinking. I just pulled at the rip in my jeans and said how I didn’t even know who the hell she was, but I thought she was hot. I didn't think she was hot, I thought she was beautiful, which was why I was still looking at her when I answered Tony. Tony looked intimidating, but he was really a nice guy.
Claire. I just loved her name. That was probably one of the things that attracted me to her. Erica seemed to man more when you think about it. I don’t know, I just like it better. I didn’t really think about her lips, or her at all really when she kissed me. Actually, I couldn’t really think of anything other than how she stopped me from thinking of Claire so abruptly. At the time, I had only known Erica’s name, and nothing else. As my friends were still talking amongst themselves, I was faced outside the cliquey circle, watching Erica as her light hair blew over her face. She was beautiful. I wondered how I couldn’t have noticed her beauty. I had known who she was since 9th grade, when she moved here. I dont remember teh day we met, but i remember the day she came. Which i guess coudl also be considered as teh official day we met.
I went to first period as usual, the history teacher said we had a new girl. Nothing more other than she was new. No special welcome, no extra attention. I hadn't paid much attention to her either. Nor did I care how her first day at a new school was like everyone else seemed to. I guess I was just being bitter. She was in four of six of my classes that year. I never really talked to her. I only talked to Aaron or Mitch. Mitch was one of those weird art kids who just seemed to have a reason for why everythign seemed to be as it was. He would wrap everything up in little boxes that implied that there was meanning behind the things you wouldnt normaly notice, and that that's why they were important-because they were sugnificant without bragging. Mitch sometimes talked to Erica, but she didnt seem interested in talking to him. It was kinda sad. She woudl blow him off like he was a bug on her canvas that stuck to the paper.
Of all out classes, art, I assume, was her favorite. She always seemed so into every piece of work that she did. Actually, I do recall myself admireing her paintings once. Just once. Somehow I remember it. It was of a black, metal, sharp gate. The sky was red and there were no clouds. But there was a tree, which was also black. Hints or gray on the tree and gate, shades of black and red and white.
I dont know how I remember this. I guess it's one of those memories you didn't know you had. One of those memories that is stored in the unused part of the brain and are only accessed through desperation. Though I seem inderperate, I am. I tell you this now with pride. I'll do when every it takes to do two choices I have decided for myself:
1)Somehow escape all the tears and love notes and forget about her and move on
2)get her back
Neither of them are simple, but the seconed choice seems to be easier than the first. Shit. I'm sorry, sometims I go off on thought that have no connection to what im talking about. I'll get back on subject.
So art seemed to be her favorite. I don't know why. I liked it. The only thing that pissed me off was Mrs. Colton always yelling at me for not opening up. I was opened up enough to have a somewhat clear view of reality, and thats all I needed thankyouverymuch. She always said I kept things inside, which was true, and I kept inside that it was infact-true. So I guess she was right, but it doesnt matter what she thought because all taht mattered in art class is what you thought and how you well you put thought onto canvas. Claire was also in that same art class. This, I think, is almost impossible to forget, she always cam over to my area and would slide her finger down my back, like she wanted something. I wasnt a guy of PDA, so I ignored it and tried to contain lust. It worked when I started getting into the paintings we did, but when it didn't, I ended up in the bathroom half the class "calming myself down." There is no other way to put that in a less blunt way. So art class always seemed to be most interesting to me. Erica and I never said a word to eachother, other than sorry when I ran my dirty cup of water into hers. That was our only encounter. *Again, memories from unrecognized parts of the brain.* Well, of that year. Somehow I remember it realy clearly, probably because it was just the only one. As I tell you more and more, I remember more and more. I never really thought about all of this until now. Not even when we were together.
I was turning arond and going to get clean water when she was comming back from the sink. I was looking at the ground, and she, I guess, was doing the same. Well I walked straight into her and spilt my water, not a lot thankfully, of her sweatshirt. I felt horible. I thought I was going to get slapped or something, but that didn't happen. So a split seconed after thh water had been spilt we tripped over the sheets on the floor (put there so we didnt get any paint on the new tiling, and for this very reason) and she fell right on top of me. No, it was't one of those moments you see in the movies where they "gaze into eachothers eyes." we just fell and she seemed quite embarassed by it. I could see her cheeks turning a light sade of pink. I guess she panicked under embarassment because they faded back after a few seconeds-meaning she tried really hard to blow it off as no big deal. The room was pretty quite, so its not like no one noticed. Mrs. Colton saw what happened and was "inspired" by out position, which was a little risque if you ask me. She told us not to move, this was quite akward considering she was laying on my chest and I could see straight down her shrit. But we did as we were told and layed still with water cups in hand. For the rest of the class period, she made the remaining students paint our positions. In a still life of the exact pose, or as an expression of the emotion that could occur.
We layed there for an hour. The room was a little louder. Aaron asked if her could put some music on while they worked to inspire them more. Of course he put on loud "scene core" music. But our entire class was kind of like that, so they loved it. Erica spoke to me when there was more noise. "Sage," she said, "Why do you keep things inside?" She looked at me with a face of dispair. -She noticed. That ment that she analyzed me. I thought of that as a good thing. It expands yoru mind.- Although I dont know why it was that improtant. We hardly knew eachother and we were having the most intentive talk. "I dont know." Actually admitting to this was totally against my standard reply, so I don't know what she did to make me answer honestly, but it was something. "I guess I'm afraid of what people might think of me. Everyone has a complex mind, but they're challanged more every day, so I dont see the point of throwing my emotions around when they're just going to change so quickly within 10 minutes of something new."
I don't know where this sudden burst of words came from. But I liked talking to her. I didn't think about it at the time, but I should have been thinking of reasons why I was telling her this and why I thought I could trust someone I hardly knew. Maybe it was the way she painted: openly, yet hiding something. A secret perhaps, or maybe just a memory of something everyone could have known, but not understand.
She stopped looking at me and put her head on my chest, as if we were alone. Our legs weaved. Our bodies were sewed together. Still movement. She sighed, "Thank you for being honest." She looked sideways at my painting, which was near my head, and upwards, "Your painting shows emotion, but to an extent. A level that only you can reach when you're really low." I loved how she talked. And not just the words she chose, but how she said them. Sofe voice, almost how it would sound of someone just stopped crying. Quiet because of the noise level of the room.
"I just paint."
"It's nice. The darkness of it I mean." She looked so pretty. Her pearl hairclip traced my jawline when she moved her head, which made Mrs. Colton a little nuts because she wasn't still. We sat there in silence for the next ten minutes. Mrs. Colton left the room. The class got louder since they didtn have to look like they were paying any attention at all. They walked around the room and talked to friends. I spoke, "Should we move or stay here?" and thought about that question and what her reply would be. "Can we just stay here?" This was the exact moment of when I realized that I really fancied her. I coudlnt explain it, but she made me think. She made me think I ment something to anything meaningful. So I respected her request, and secretly mine, and we layed still.
Note: This is not one of those sappy love stories. At this moment in my memory this is how i felt. No, I was not in love with her, nor had the thought even crossed my mind. Clairifyication for you.
Aaron and Mitch came over and sat on the floor next to my stool. "So, when are you two gonna have that baby?" Aaron pissed me off a bit. Mitch could tell he bothered me and stood up to leave, taking Aaron with him. It was always a joke with Aaron. I mean I loved the guy, but he never took anything that seriously. I think he thought humor was best because it made him feel good, but it doesnt always help every situation.
"Are your friends always like that?" she said
"No, just Aaron. I think he uses that kind of talk as an escape from somethign serious. He stresses when things are serious when hes not in a relationshiop."
"Oh...are you good friends?"
"Yeah, he's been my best friend since fourth grade."
"That's nice to still live with all your old friends. I miss mine."
"Yeah, but it's kind of hard because,you know, some of your old friends that you used to be really close to change and you grow apart before you grow up."
"I know wahat you mean." Her voice...I still loved it.
By this time, Mrs. Colton had returned and already yelled at us yet again for moving. Turns out she was doing her own stiil life to use as an example for the next class. This was kind of interesting. I kow this seems like there's nothing speical about lying on the floor in the middle of class, but this changed me. It sounds stupid, and it still does, but thats how i began to like Erica; because the first time we had a conversation, she made me think. It was strange.
We still laid there for a moment longer before Mrs. Culton put a light over us to show the contrast. Annoying. It was blinding. Ok, i understand art is to be appreciated, but this was too much. But we did as we were told and didnt move a muscle. She looked at the room wither her head pointed up, her glasses at the tip of her nose, "I have to use the ladies room. If I hear any noise from the end of the hall, you will all stay after AND durring lunch." and with that, she left yet again, and Mitch and Aaron came over.
Aaron wore a yellow collard shirt with a gery undershirt. His haid was seemingly lighter than usual thanks to the blinding light above Erica and I. Mitch looked normal for he was on the other side, where the light didn't hit. "That must suck." Mitch look at us, up and down. "I would just move. Teach's crazy." Aaron just sat there, not saying anything, rubbing his paint covered hands.
Erica rose a bit., holdin gherself up with her arms, but body stil comletely on mine. "It's actually quite confortable. But whatever." there was a sudden change in personality with her. I don't know why, but she talked to me differently. Or maybe it was just me.
"Dude, you can get up, i think everyone's pretty much got the point." Aaron said.
I replied: "I know, but i dont wanna piss her off, she's vicious."
"Pshh. What coudl she do to you? Seriously"
"Keep my after school, and at lunch. I hate staying in here, its boring"
"Right, but you can explain that you had to piss or something."He laughed a bit at the last few words. Erica flipped her head and her dark hair flowed from left to right. I think she did it on purpose. She knew I liked her already. Was i really that obvious? Was it that easy to tell? Or was that just her personality? Who knows.
Mrs. Culton didn't come back until the bell rang. She told Erica and I that we would get extra credit for each time we posed. Like either of us really needed it, but whatever. It's the thought that counts. So we decided to do it when we got a bad project grade or something. It wasn't that big of a deal, but the point of this story is that this was the moment i began to like her. And that's where this memory begins. And Where it should have ended.
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The band stopped playing. There are few people left in the bar. That doesn't suprise me considering most of these kids are underage anyways. Jesse, the bartender, handed me another beer. The smoke was still heavy. Didn't phase me.
I'll tap the breaks while you crack the window
the smell of smoke is making my lungs explode
route 51 is backed up and too slow
lets tune out while turning on the raido
The Format. Tune Out. Good song. Ahh, I exhale and look around, take a sip, and continue.
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Nothing seemed to make sense. I had never even spoke toher before, and the first time i had, i hit hard. Through the time period that i liked her, but didn't do much about it, i felt like a lost puppy, whimpering for attention with the exception of drinking toilet water. I told Aaron, but he said he cold already tell. I again wonder if it was obvious that I thought she was a goddess. No one would say anythign to me about the knowings even if they did. Now why this girl had kissed me, months after I decided I liked her, ill never know. She has yet to tell me, and I have yet to ask again.
A contest entry
- BANG BANG GUNS GO BANG by LittleMissDoe.
525 points, ended January 21, 2007, 11 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
option 9:story
Comments
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WOW!!
this is a way cool story, and personally i didnt want it to end. but yeah of course there were a few things i noticed that were a little out of place.. besides the spell checks, lol. first you wrote "As my friends were still talking amongst themselves, I was faced outside the cliquey circle, watching Erica as her light hair blew over her face." && then you wrote "Erica flipped her head and her dark hair flowed from left to right." just thought you might want to either explain or change that. hmmm i think that is it. yeah i mean i get really into my stories too and i always mispell.. but really spell check.. its amazing.. haha. but you got talent.. if you ever write a book best be sending me a signed copy!! hehe.. and [[OPTION 9]] was write me a short story.. but only as if you were a cat.....
haha but i will accept this anyway.. because this could be considered a few other options as well!! way to go, honey!


