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| onceagainistandalone (profile) wrote, on 3-18-2003 at 4:28pm | |
| Subject: A story i wrote. Leave comments dammit. |
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| Once upon a time there was a young man who went by the name of Tom. Tom lived in your ideal American family. A mom, a dad, a 27 inch tv with Dolby 5.1 Digital Surround Sound, a big fucking swimming pool for those hot days in the summer. His family had material wealth. Tom had freedom to do what he wanted, his parents had total trust in him. He was the perfect son, the perfect person. Comparable to Jesus, he couldn't screw up if he tried. He had the perfect life, except he was completely alone. He had no friends, not even a pet, for his father was allergic to anything with more than 18 square inches of hair on it. Then one day Tom's life changed. He walked into school just like he did every morning, sat in the same spot he always sat in, and buried his nose in some tragi-comedy memoir that would eventually be made into a semi-succsesful film staring John Cusack. But today something changed, he looked up, and there was the most beautiful girl Tom had ever seen. He was in love. He loved everything about her. The way her skin seemed to have a glow to it, the way her straight blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, the way her Levi's low rise jeans showed just the right amount of her lower back, everything. Over the next few weeks, a routine developed. Get to school, and fall in love all over again with this girl. She consumed him. His every waking moment was spent thinking about her. She was in his dreams, even if it was some really fucked up dream that involved two cornish hens, and American flag, and a tire iron, she was there. He started writing about her. What things would be like when they got married after high school and had their 2.3 kids and big fucking television. He wrote pages of non-sensical love notes everyday, he would find himself writing her name without even realizing it, but there was one problem. She had no idea he existed. And he realized it one day. He looked up at his normal time to see her walk by, but he only saw one thing, her hand in another hand. Woven one inside the other like a fine Arabian rug. the kind you would buy for six hundered dollars at the local alternate lifestyle shop that smells of incenses and has drawers full of beads. So there was his heart, on the ground, spit on. Stomped on. Left in the gutter. He ran to the bathroom as the tears welled up in his eyes. He sat on the toilet letting those tears splash to the ground for three hours. Sure he had a great life, but now he was alone again. Even though he had never even spoken to the girl. Even though she didn't know him other than the fact that he was a brief smudge in the corner of her eye as she walked by him every morning. Even though..even though nothing. She was his reason for life. He woke up from his dreams about her because she was the last thing he thought about every night. He was in love, and she had ripped apart his heart. So Tom made a decision. he got up and left school, he had to go home. So he walked the three blocks to his house. As he came upon the house he gave it a good look. He went through the garage, stopping to look at all his old things that had been put into storage. He went into the house, poured a glass of water, and sat staring at his swimming pool while he drank it. It was frozen over now, being the middle of January and all. the memories were faded, the ones of splashing around and jumping in. Gone, frozen over just like the pool. He got up and walked to his parents room, opened the closet door, and got his Dad's gun. He loaded the gun slowly and deliberatley, knowing he was on his last minutes of life. He could sit here and reminesce about childhood innocence and lonliness all day, but why did today matter when he had been doing it his whole life? No, best just to get it over with. So Tom put the gun into his mouth, closed his eyes, and he was gone. |
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catrenegade | 03-18-03 6:57pm This is amazing. Truly. You need to keep writing, and you need to make money doing it, because you will. The detail is incredible and extensive in the right places, as much as it is scarce in the right places as well. You should post more story entries because I would love to read them. |
pandorasaquarium | it was, 03-19-03 9:00pm rather...generic. I liked the style of writing, and I could see that it is full of emotion. But it's a typical story/theme that has been done many times before...
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