Wednesday, December 15, 2010

First Story .. Kind of heavy ..

This is a short story I wrote a few years back now.  It's one of the only finished ones, but its not that good.  My writing has definitely gotten better but I wanted to add this one to the few I was going to post.  I went back and changed some things but I didn't want to change too much and ruin what I had.  Plus it was the only one I could actually find on the internet, the other ones aren't done yet & I have to get my boyfriend to retrieve them off my computer tomorrow!  But yea, so it's the only one I could get easily to post quickly and I wanted to show I was actually going to.  There will be a few more.  It's kind of heavy but I hope you enjoy. =)

There was a lit cigarette in the blue ashtray and the smoke went up in swirls, next to it lay a bottle of Jack Daniels. There was a dim light and a letter crumpled in his hand and a pink envelope on the desk. He hadn't left his room in two day's, and he was re-reading the letter she sent him over and over again. She had written the lyrics to the song he had always sang to her, and written to her in letter's when they'd been apart. He sang it to her at her wedding and at a show he preformed. She hadn't know it was for her until the day of her wedding. His green eyes watered and a tear slid down his unshaven cheek. He took a swig from the bottle and followed it with a pull of his cigarette.
He reread the part of the Dashboard song to himself out loud.
"I'm living in your letters
Breathe deeply from this envelope
It smells like you
And I cant be without that scent
It's filling me with all you mean to me".
He loved her and he knew it. He remembered her wedding day. He had been sitting there, watching, uncomfortable from the heat. He was regretting every word he'd never said to her, everything he'd always meant to whisper when she was near him, the things he meant to write to her. She looked at him nervously and smiled while she was up there having her wedding ceremony given by Elvis. This was a mistake and he knew it. He knew she didn't mean to marry him. Suddenly his mind wandered, and he stood up and walked over to her. He leaned near her face and sang into her ear, "There is no need to fill my heart with useless space. These road's go on forever. There will always be a place for you in my heart." She had turned to him.
"Sean... what are you doing?" she had asked him, eyes pleading.
"I'm sorry Maria. But I have to. I cant let you continue on with this. I know I've fucked thing's up between us so many times. I repeatedly because I knew I loved you, because falling in love was childish, you said it so many times yourself. You know what, then I guess I'm childish, because Maria I love you. I don't know if I could promise you the same life Mr. Wonderful over here could, but I could try. Please... just let me try?"
Turn's out she had let him try. He began to cry hysterically. His cigarette was now only a cylinder of ash to the filter, and the bottle was half empty. He read the opening part of the letter again.
"Dean Sean,
I need some time to think. But I should warn you, I may never return."
She wouldn't come back. He knew it. She had what she wanted and he had sent her out. She was pregnant, and he remembered how she looked when she told him too. Her face was full of happiness and he had never seen her smile like that. He couldn't do it though, it was too surreal for him. He started acting weird, not showing up to doctor appointments, staying out late getting wasted, picking childish fights with her. He was pushing her away the way he had done when they were younger. She only tried to love him and he had managed to destroy it all over again. He got up and staggered over to his bed, and laid down on her side by the wall. She had always slept by the wall because she liked walking over him in the morning and kissing his forehead letting him know she was still there. She never tried to rush him into marriage or get him to support her, and she could have had all that, and he had fucked it up for her. He made her go with him, and then what did he do? He had pushed her out like she hadn't meant a thing to him, or at least that's how he had obviously made her feel. He buried his face, wet from tears, into her pillow. His eyelashes fluttered trying to fight back the urge to cry, trying to "take it like a man".
He got up and walked over to the closet, kneeling on the floor he opened a shoe box, and took out a photograph of her that was in it, and a .22 caliber gun. He sat on the bed looked at her photo, and brought the gun to his head.

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