Thursday, May 28, 2009
The Explorer
Deeper and deeper, it never stops. The farthest darkest corners filled with various items from times long forgotten. Figures and unknown objects claw at my fingers as i delve deeper into the unknown. At last my hand clasps the desired treasure and i pull it out of hibernation and into the light. G.I Joe's and Star Wars Legos litter the floor and Bionicles lay where i frustratingly tossed them in my search. My two year old sisters cries of anguish turn to claps and giggles as i hand her back her used and abused barbie doll. Lewis and Clark got nothin on me!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Punk
The first time she heard "you and me", by Lifehouse, she was at a party. But not just any party, this was her sisters bachelorette party. Everyone was dancing but Lydia. Normally Lydia would have been the first one on the floor when the music came on, but Lydia didn't feel like dancing. Lately life had been throwing her more curve balls than she cared to deal with. Most of them in the form of immature guys.
Her sister had never had trouble with guys, she was spontaneous and energetic, maybe that was what Lydia herself lacked.
Perhaps someone 'upstairs' had a higher purpose for her. Or maybe God just had a sadistic sense of humor.
Lydia looked up to see the faces of her sisters friends smiling (probably drunk) as her sister told them all how she had met her fiance'.
With a sigh Lydia put her untouched cup of vodka on the table "Its getting late Hallie, i'm going home."'
"Alright tell Mom i will be home tomorrow night." her sister said before continuing the story.
Stepping out the front door rain spattered her white Billabong hoodie and American Eagle Jeans. Reaching into her Roxy bag she pulled out her car keys and unlocked the car.
The drivers seat was cold, but dry. She sat there for several minutes before starting the car and driving off. The radio started with the car, there it was again. The song.
Finally alone the tears spilled down her face, smearing her carefully applied mascara.
She had heard that opposites attract, but this was ridiculous! He wasn't like anyone she had ever liked before. He wasn't the school quarterback, he wasn't class president. He was a punk. Literally.
He was the guy you'd see in a band wearing girl pants and bad boy t-shirts. But she couldn't help the way she felt about him. If there was ever an illness she couldn't get over it was him. Her friends didn't like him, and it offended him that they could be so shallow. So they stopped seeing each other.
Before she even knew where she wanted to go she was sitting in the parking lot of the Seattle Community College appartments. Her heart beat faster as she ran across the pavement in the pouring rain and took the stairs two at a time.
There it was, his appartment door. Stopping to catch her breath she realized she had butterflies. "Please God," she prayed "let me know what to say." She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
A deep voice on the other side of the door replied "I'm coming!"
The dorm numbers A12 slid out of view as the door opened.
There he stood, his piercing green eyes barely visable beneath shaggy black hair.
The silence stretched on forever before she spoke, "How are your classes going?" She immediately regreted oppening her mouth, as he raised an eyebrow in amusment.
'Note to self' she thought 'don't EVER ask such a stupid question agian!'
He smiled and walked away leaving the door wide open.
Should she follow him? Should she stand there like an idiot?
Before she could decide what to do he returned with a dry towel. "your all wet." he said and handed her the towel "Now do you want to tell me why your here?" crossing his arms he leaned on the door frame.
" Well, I'm not sure why i'm here," she replied "All I know is we haven't spoken in a week and i hate it when we fight."
"I know Lydia." he smiled " I know."
She looked up into his face "So your not mad at me?"
He reached out and brushed a wet piece of hair from her forehead, "No. I'm not mad at you if your not mad at me."
She smiled and knew it woudl all be alright. It didn't matter if her friends didn't like his hair or his music. And the girl pants she would just have to live with. Yes he was a punk, but he was her punk.
*PaleAngel*
Her sister had never had trouble with guys, she was spontaneous and energetic, maybe that was what Lydia herself lacked.
Perhaps someone 'upstairs' had a higher purpose for her. Or maybe God just had a sadistic sense of humor.
Lydia looked up to see the faces of her sisters friends smiling (probably drunk) as her sister told them all how she had met her fiance'.
With a sigh Lydia put her untouched cup of vodka on the table "Its getting late Hallie, i'm going home."'
"Alright tell Mom i will be home tomorrow night." her sister said before continuing the story.
Stepping out the front door rain spattered her white Billabong hoodie and American Eagle Jeans. Reaching into her Roxy bag she pulled out her car keys and unlocked the car.
The drivers seat was cold, but dry. She sat there for several minutes before starting the car and driving off. The radio started with the car, there it was again. The song.
Finally alone the tears spilled down her face, smearing her carefully applied mascara.
She had heard that opposites attract, but this was ridiculous! He wasn't like anyone she had ever liked before. He wasn't the school quarterback, he wasn't class president. He was a punk. Literally.
He was the guy you'd see in a band wearing girl pants and bad boy t-shirts. But she couldn't help the way she felt about him. If there was ever an illness she couldn't get over it was him. Her friends didn't like him, and it offended him that they could be so shallow. So they stopped seeing each other.
Before she even knew where she wanted to go she was sitting in the parking lot of the Seattle Community College appartments. Her heart beat faster as she ran across the pavement in the pouring rain and took the stairs two at a time.
There it was, his appartment door. Stopping to catch her breath she realized she had butterflies. "Please God," she prayed "let me know what to say." She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
A deep voice on the other side of the door replied "I'm coming!"
The dorm numbers A12 slid out of view as the door opened.
There he stood, his piercing green eyes barely visable beneath shaggy black hair.
The silence stretched on forever before she spoke, "How are your classes going?" She immediately regreted oppening her mouth, as he raised an eyebrow in amusment.
'Note to self' she thought 'don't EVER ask such a stupid question agian!'
He smiled and walked away leaving the door wide open.
Should she follow him? Should she stand there like an idiot?
Before she could decide what to do he returned with a dry towel. "your all wet." he said and handed her the towel "Now do you want to tell me why your here?" crossing his arms he leaned on the door frame.
" Well, I'm not sure why i'm here," she replied "All I know is we haven't spoken in a week and i hate it when we fight."
"I know Lydia." he smiled " I know."
She looked up into his face "So your not mad at me?"
He reached out and brushed a wet piece of hair from her forehead, "No. I'm not mad at you if your not mad at me."
She smiled and knew it woudl all be alright. It didn't matter if her friends didn't like his hair or his music. And the girl pants she would just have to live with. Yes he was a punk, but he was her punk.
*PaleAngel*
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)