Hey guys, it's been a long time. About three years. Wow, three long years. I dropped off the earth because, well, I just lost it all, all my inspiration and began to do other things but then I wrote this, whatever this is and it came back. I think I'm just going to be doing one shots right now and then I'm going to be redoing all of my stories, so expect them all to be taken down because god they are terrible.
I kind of wrote this while listening to these three songs:
Dakota - A Rocket to the Moon
Keep your Head Up - Ben Howard
Six Degrees Of Separation - The Script.
I don't think that has very much to do with this story but if you're wondering where I got my inspo from, there you go! Please read and review!
When I first saw her, she was screaming at her dog. Well, not at her dog, more in the region in which the dog was sitting. The dog just happened to be there. I just thought she was screaming at her dog. In fact, she was screaming small mound of mud she'd almost tripped over while walking her dog. (Later she assured me this wasn't just any mud pile, it was a mud pile sent from Satan to trip her up and into 'some kind of worm hole'.)
The dog had just been sat there, looking slightly dazed and confused, as she stood there, screeching down at it not cursing, just general words were spilling out of her mouth such as 'pen' and 'creases'. Not actual sentences. I had rushed over and asked her what the hell she was doing, but all she did in return was press a finger again my lips, claiming she'd do the same to her own lips if she wasn't holding the lead.
Through my attempted sealed lips, I asked her why she was screaming random words. She then told me about how happily she'd been walking along before her boyfriend had called her to tell her they weren't 'compatible' (She didn't say compatible in a bitter way, more a childish way. As if she was mocking him.) and then she had tripped over that small satanic pile of mud and enough had been enough. By this point, her finger had been removed from my lips and she was smiling at me, her brown eyes glinting slightly. She apologised before sighing heavily as her dog gently tugged on its lead, she crouched down by it and began to say a few soothing words in attempt to calm it down.
Looking up at me through a thin layer of dark brown hair, she claimed he was energetic and couldn't be tamed (or so, she notified me, everyone in her family preached), I crouched down beside her petting the dog. She introduced herself, I also learnt she went to the school opposite mine and didn't like it there 'not one bit'. I was about to return the favour but the dog bolted out from beneath our palms. Smacking her palms down on mine, she looked at me, her eyes wide the words 'did he just run' spilling out of her mouth, over and over again, I nodded for confirmation, but she repeated it once more never-the-less then saying she'd catch up with me maybe. She lifted herself off the ground, so quickly that if you blinked you would have missed it. Shrieking about 'letting go of the leash a little', she bolted after him, the lengthy mess of her brown hair trailing after her whipping itself into a frenzy in the air.
For a moment, I thought about her and the little I knew about her. Her name didn't seem to suite her I didn't think, she was something of intrigue not something as average as her name might have suggested.
The next time I saw her, she was at a till. Not behind the till, in front of it, juggling piling groceries into bags and three young kids, two running around her ankles and one sat predominantly on her hip. I was slightly taken a back, she was my age of sixteen, why did she have kids? But then I overheard her telling the tiller she'd 'had this one at ten' pointing at the eldest, a five year old boy, and then she gestured toward the three year old girl claiming she'd had her at 'twelve' and then lastly she brought her attention to the baby sat on her hip stating she'd had him at the 'ripe old age of fourteen'.
I'd walked over and brought to her attention that those numbers couldn't possibly be correct for she was sixteen and those ages she stated couldn't have matched up. She had raised her eyebrows at me before lifting the baby further up her hip calling herself 'a dreamer and a baby maker' then countered me by saying that at least she kind of got the age gaps between the kids right. I told 'kind of wasn't correct' to which she could only grin.
Setting the baby in the child holder, she began to pile groceries into a woven bag humming softly as she did so, then pushing it towards me looking pointedly at the trolley. I placed the bag down in the trolley before finally telling her my name. As I did she briefly looked me up and down, then she called me conventional. I didn't even have time to ask before she explained that the name suited me and that I'd hopefully have what she deemed a conventional future 'one that has kids and a pretty wife and those cute little suburb houses'. There was something wistful in her eyes as she said it but then denied wanting it herself being a 'firm believer in doing things that shouldn't be done, even if it hurts.'
She then plucked the baby out of the trolley and bit it gently on the nose, to which it giggled, her hair swayed softly in its high ponytail, as she rocked the baby up and down. She said she hoped that I had a child as cute as her baby sister one day, I didn't want to tell her that the last thing on my mind was children as I suffered through the tragedy that is high school; because the fondness that shone through in her eyes displayed how much they meant to her. The two other children began to scream as one had supposedly hit the other, she breathed 'pen lids', as I kneeled by them offering them a sweet each. They both sucked on them contently as I smiled up at her.
As she propped the baby on her hip once more, she asked what school I went to, she graze not meeting mine for a second. Then she said the name on the same beat that I did, a soft smile lighting up her face. I asked her how she knew, and she stepped up closer to me, her arm sliding its way around my neck, bringing my head down so her mouth was in line with my ear. The three words she said rang through me as she began to pick up her bags, quickly putting them in the trolley. Calling once again that she'd see me around, maybe.
I saw her a third, fourth and fifth time. She told me that I was quite well known, which I was aware of anyhow, and that she didn't understand why I was so well known. She told me a girl at school called me a catch, as she said this her face contorted into something of disgust, assuring me that I wouldn't find her a catch for the simple fact that she looked like a downright 'penning dog'.
She told me she had siblings. And lots of them. The three I met, I met twice more, before I met two others. She'd laughed and said her mother and father were like rabbits, but they were so busy with their work lives they didn't even know their offspring. There was no resent in her voice as she said this, it was always a matter of fact tone with a blunt outlook. She said they hired nannies but they were as useless as a 'inkless felt tip pens', so she looked after them as much as she could. Her eyes always glowed when she spoke about her siblings. She'd lean forward, her brown hair grazing past her shoulders, so I could hear every word she said.
We spoke about everything. From the future to anal penetration, for some reason. I know now she's not keen on the idea, though we never really discussed the topic. Topics with her just seemed to drift on out of the sky and get picked up and recognised by her. But the one thing she refused to talk about, was her ex boyfriend, the one that dumped her.
I didn't mean to see her the sixth time. Well maybe I did. Usually girls came to find me, but she didn't. Which is probably why I went. Which means I did mean to see her the sixth time. But weeks had past and for some reason I craved just being around her.
So, after school one day, I just happened to wait by the gates of her school. I asked others if they'd seen her but all they did was shrug and say they'd seen her at the lockers but she was always looking for something. I recognised a few girls from a party I may have been to and smiled at them briefly before just looking out beyond the gate.
I waited there for a good ten minutes before she came out. She was drawing hopscotch lines on the pavement with a pink piece of chalk before running back and playing the hopscotch herself. The people around her seemed to be watching the sixteen year old, throwing her dissatisfied looks
For a moment I watched as all I could see was a girl with a wavy head of hair looking at the floor, slowly jumping forward. 'What are you doing?' Was the only question that sprang to mind. As soon as I voiced it, her head whipped her, her hair splaying back. Her laugh echoed down to me as did her explanation of innocent playing.
The brunette dropped the chalk and ran towards me, before slowing down and stopping in front of me. I smirked down at her, an eyebrow raised. She told me not to give her that look and held up her hand as an indication that I wasn't to ask her as to what look. Or something. I could never tell with her. As we walked she almost tripped over her own two feet, a range of words just flying out of her mouth. Not a single one a curse word. I asked her why this was. There were always questions with her. She hopped up on my back sighing deeply that she 'spends a lot of time with kids so those were never an option because swearing is a no-no'. As she said no-no she waved a finger in front of my face.
Her arms were draped around my shoulders as I held her legs, ensuring she was secure. She asked to go to the Chinese takeout, nuzzling her head in my neck as she did so. She muttered about how I smelt nice as we neared it, I laughed and asked her if she wasn't smelling the Chinese aromatic food and she didn't reply. Instead she clung to me tighter.
I learnt she had friends, and they liked her but she knew they weren't for life because 'no one's really for life'. She loved all types of music but indie music the most and screamo the least. The idea someone was getting paid for screaming down a microphone confused her but 'money is money and do what you have to do.'
Often, she asked why I didn't have a girlfriend (or boyfriend she said she didn't mind if I 'swung either way' though I assured her I was straight) because she said she knew for a fact that 'guys with green eyes and darkish blond hair make a girl weak at the knees' and that 'all the girls in my year have a crush on you'. I told her that I'd get a girlfriend when I thought the girl I liked could get it together to accept my offer. She always rolled her eyes at this, munching on a chip.
Then I'd tease her about being the only person in the world to come to a Chinese takeout and ordering the blandest thing on the menu. She'd then scoff and call me an amateur, launching into the making of a chip.
Weeks went by and we'd always meet at the Chinese Takeout, Happy Dragon, every day after school. The thirtieth time I saw her, she was talking to the owners of the restaurant, her hair being wound up in chopsticks, traditional buns, as she ate chips. She would talk between mouthfuls, laughing occasionally and listening intensively.
When she saw me come in, her eyes dimmed. Only a small amount, but they dimmed. As I sat opposite her, she pushed the chips toward me. I snatched one up and grinned at her, she grinned back but with not as much enthusiasm. She told me that Sasha, the youngest of her siblings, the baby, was sick. She didn't elaborate on the illness, she just said she was 'so sick she wouldn't recover'.
And then she said it, 'I was happy', she sounded heartbroken, she bit her lip and looked up explaining that for that reason she couldn't see me.
That whenever she was happy, something negative seemed to happen. That the longer she was happy, the worse the situation was. Then before I could ask any questions, she removed the chopsticks from her hair, allowing it to cascade down her back as she picked up her school bag, slamming the chop sticks down on the nearest table as she left.
The takeout was silent apart from the whirring and vibrations of the machines.
I tried to see her after that but she ignored me, or told me to leave her alone.
She never asked me to leave in a bitter, sad or resentful way, she just said it in a kind of pleading way.
So I did.
But I didn't stop watching her or asking people about her. Nothing about her seemed to have changed. She still played hopscotch while coming up the road but now it seemed she pocketed the chalk. She still walked her dog in the same way as before, to the speed at which the dog was willing to go that day. She still tilted her head slightly to the left whenever she was confused. She still raised her eyebrows whenever someone tried to intimidate her.
When I asked people about her, they dismissed her as 'nice but pretty fucking weird man' and said that people have tried to befriend her in the past but she seems to want to be some 'self proclaimed drugged up fucking loner'. I asked him what he meant by drugged up and immediately he raised his eyebrows and asked I'd seen her ex boyfriend. When I said I hadn't he said that a couple weeks back he'd been done for coke and jailed, he brought his hand up to his nose and sniffed across it raising his eyebrows to help imply the message.
I thought about her with her round, excitable, brown eyes and dark mane of wavy, yet somehow curled at the ends, hair with an ever-present smile on her face. An image of tainted innocence. The girl I had grown to love.
The one hundred and ninetieth time I saw her, she was at the park. The one we had met at. Only this time, she wasn't with a dog, she was with a boy of about nineteen.
And she wasn't screaming, her voice was low and pleading.
She didn't smile at him, not once.
Not as she had with me.
This boy of nineteen was looking at her, seemingly listening. But by the dazed expression his face held, it didn't seem he was. He began to get visibly weaker and collapsed to the floor. That was when I saw her do something I didn't associate her with doing, she cried. She knelt by side of him and he held her face in his palms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 'Idiot, did prison stop you from doing anything at all?' was the only thing she seemed to be able to say through the sobs. The word 'drugs' and 'stop' were also thrown around but the flood of tears did not.
It was at this point I made myself known. Emerging from the shadows and the eyes that turned to me first weren't hers, but his. His mouth opened to form words that he seemingly couldn't get out and instead he nodded in my direction, and I, in return, nodded back. Her head snapped up and I looked into her brilliant brown, yet bloodshot eyes.
She rapidly removed her jacket before folding it up and placing it under his head, a replacement pillow, nudging him to the ground. She hurried over to me, her brown hair spilling backwards as the wind brushed it back, demanding what I was doing here. I searched her face, seeking out the correct emotion. She didn't seem to be angry, she never seemed to be angry, just tired and concerned mixed with some frustration.
"I love you."
The silence between us was consuming and I could see the boy in the background stir, his eyes groggily opening as he looked at the two of us.
I attempted to look everywhere but her face, firstly at the sky, then at the ground before allowing my line of vision to follow a football that was being kicked around.
"That's not allowed."
Her response was unexpected and confusing, much like her. As she said the words, I finally looked at her, in shock demanding how she thought she could dictate what was and wasn't allowed when it came to feelings.
She said she wasn't allowed to dictate feelings in general but she was allowed to dictate feelings when they impacted upon her. Then she drew in a short breath and asked if I wanted to get hurt. She saw my eyes slide over to the boy on the floor and immediately sprang to his defence claiming that he wasn't going to be the one to hurt me. With a bitter tone she added 'does he look like he can hurt anyone when he looks like that?'.
Then she started talking about karmic energies, about how whenever she felt something good was happening to her something twice as negative occurred to counter the happiness. Roughly what she had said that day in the takeout. She wrung her hands together as she said it, looking down and around, anywhere but me. She told me she knew I thought it was mumbo jumbo but she felt it and she felt she had to believe in it.
Not because it was one hundred percent proven, but because she didn't like risks.
I pulled her towards me and told her there was no such thing as supernatural forces, gripping her face and forcing her to look at me. She whispered that she knew but refused to meet my eyes anyhow. As she sucked on her lip, the tears began to trickle down her face and I engulfed her in a hug.
A strangled cough was hear and she pushed herself away from me, frantically rushing to the other boys side, dropping down on here knees and pressing her head to his. Sounds of 'we need to get you to a hospital' were heard before a gruff 'no'.
I watched as she helplessly cradled him, fiddling with his hair and checking his pulse rate. With one swift motion he pulled her down and into a soft kiss to which she found she could do nothing but respond with equal softness as he propped himself up.
At that my heart dropped. She was in love, it seemed, just not with me. I watched as she helped him up, supporting him by tugging his arm around her shoulders and trudging forward. He said those three words I'd previously said, with much hesitation, like a mantra. But she never reciprocated his words, cutting him short each time with 'I know.'
She looked at me, her eyes wet with tears and her mouth opened for a moment, as if she was about to say something to me, anything. But her head just seemed to drop down once more, her hair sliding across the side of her face shielding her eyes.
Gently, I wound his other arm around my neck, and we silently moved across the park until we came to the road, to which I found myself turning to her and asking where to next. She didn't look at me as she responded, the words solely telling me to leave, the only ones leaving her mouth.
As a car pulled up, she scraped her hair back and smiled.
One that I hadn't seen before.
Her eyes didn't crinkle slightly as they normally did. Her top lip didn't turn in revealing the whole front set of her perfect white teeth. The tiniest dimple that usually appeared didn't make itself known.
As man of about twenty got out of the car, she unwrapped the nineteen year olds arm from around her neck, so I did the same. We watched as he stumbled forward and onto the side of the car.
The man opened the door and pushed the boy in before turning to her. He raised his eyebrows in my direction and asked who I was. Before I could answer, she did, declaring me as a friend. I watched as he nodded, his gaze steady on hers, and hers on his.
Sighing, he broke his gaze away first and she grinned, triumphant. I watched her as her top lip turned in and the dimple appeared, forcing myself to memorise every little detail.
"He loves you, you know." I looked at the two of them as they gazed at the car, watching the boy begin to pass out completely. The man was looking at her but her line of sight hadn't removed itself from the car.
The wind carefully lifted her hair off the back of her neck as she shrugged her shoulders. She response of 'I know' seemed to come naturally to her as she said it once more but with the addition of 'Mac' on the end, which I assumed was the man's name.
As he raised his hand and began to move it toward her head, I smacked it down. 'Don't touch her' were the only words I could find to reason my action. Mac sniggered as she looked at me, a mixture of emotions crossing her face. Firstly he asked if I was her white knight to which she quickly corrected as friend then he asked me once more who I was, and not on her terms.
She rolled her eyes and stated that everyone was on her terms and that 'Mac you just don't seem to understand that.' He said he'd begin to understand her terms when she understood Mac wasn't his name and Matthew was. She stepped forward in his direction, before saying, smiling sweetly, that 'Mac was the only name you came to'.
There was a beat of silence before she dissolved into laughter. He looked to the sky and began to shake his head, then cracking his gaze back down on me. His simple 'so' probed my answer.
My answer of 'I'd be her boyfriend'.
That caused him to dissolve into laughter, shortly followed by a 'wouldn't we all'. He flung his arm around my shoulders, steering me in the direction of his car and allowing me to peer inside on the sleeping nineteen year old. He declared that there 'literally lies the problem, for he needs her and she needs to be needed to function'.
He then steered me around to where she was standing, pushing us close together. "And here you are with your semi perfect life and you think she's going to take you on? Where's the drug problem, where's the family wreck, where's the disease? She doesn't love. She cares. And no one needs to be cared for more than that boy over there. That's why she sticks around." She blushed deeply, glaring, slightly beyond me, at Mac.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards, apologising profusely as she began to step back, tugging me along. She told me that what Mac said wasn't wrong but it wasn't right either. That she didn't love the boy in the backseat, but she was capable of love. But that caring for someone was so much more than loving someone.
At the I grabbed her shoulders, stopping her from moving any further back and looked at her, straight in the eyes, stating that I cared for her.
She smiled, shaking her head as she did so. Then she told me that it'd be best, for me, if I never saw her again and that if I did happen to run into her we shouldn't acknowledge each other.
She said she was in too deep and if she sunk herself in anymore then she wouldn't be able to get out.
And she said the thought terrified her.
And that if she let her own happiness come before the happiness of others she felt things wouldn't turn out well for any of them.
They'd all end up like her dead baby sister.
Upon request, I didn't speak to her again, nor did I acknowledge her presence. Two years later I left for university and began to study business so I could inherit my father's multi million pound company and keep it successfully running, thought I didn't really need to. My inheritance was enough to last me a lifetime.
Five years later I came home to visit my family, nothing special. I was walking around the park which is when I saw her again for the three thousand and eightieth time. She was ambling along in the middle of the park, a child of around eight beside her along with a teenagers of about fourteen.
They were walking a dog.
The eight year old had a firm grip on the dogs leash though it didn't seem to be moving incredibly fast. She was trying to talk to the fourteen year old who was rapidly texting, not really listening to her.
I watched the three of them, but specifically her. Her hair was long than before, still curled at the ends, just not so much. It seemed to just have a slight wave to it. I could tell she wore a lot more make up now than before, but her skin still had that lovely olive complexion that made her who she was. She had always complained that in the winter she always 'turned a kind of grey because of the snow'.
Shockingly, she was the first of the three to catch my eye. And instead of ignoring me like I'd initially thought she would, she began to run towards me, a serious expression on her face. She hit into my chest and lung her arms around my neck. Gently, I wrapped my arms around her body and squeezed her slightly. 'How have you been' were the only words that found their way out of my mouth.
She mumbled something about not being too bad before pulling away and smiling at me brightly.
Her smile hadn't changed at all.
It still made my heart soar.
The fourteen year old and eight year old wandered over, dog in tow. The fourteen year old eyed me and asked who I was accusingly. The eight year old seemed to only be able to nod in agreement. I bent down and looked at the two of them. The fourteen year old wrinkled her nose and asked me what I was doing and the eight year old copied her.
I snapped my fingers in the direction of the fourteen year old, recognising her as one of her sisters. Her name 'Penny' rolled off my tongue and she searched my face once more.
Penny turned to her and asked her how I knew her name. She smirked at me and told her younger sister that you knew me once, long ago, and it was down to an impeccable memory. She then handed her a key and told her to take 'Sandra and Mokey home' and that she'd catch up.
So there we stood, in the middle of the park. She was the first to speak.
"So, deja vu huh?"
"I guess. Except this time you weren't screaming at the dog. And you have kids this time around."
"I was not screaming at Mokey! I fell over! You were there! And god yeah, but that's part of my job now."
"You weren't on the floor, so you didn't fall over Mia, you tripped but landed on your own two feet. Like a cat but not. What, you baby sit?"
"Same thing, technicalities. And oh god, no, I'm a nanny. A baby sitter at twenty three. A professional baby sitter. But I like kids and kids like me. What do you do now? Something big probably. I saw big things for you."
"A nanny, why didn't I guess it. Your adoration for kids and your lack of teaching abilities, being a nanny was the only was forward. What do you mean you saw big things? I inherited my fathers company, I thought everyone knew that."
"My lack of teaching abilities? I'll have you know I'm a fantastic teacher, Alex, they come from all over to learn my skills. Well, everyone but me, you know I don't talk to these people and these people don't talk to me. Mostly because instead of swearing I said stuff like 'pens' which was useless, by the way, because Penny and Simon swear like sailors. Where do you live now?"
"I'll believe it when I see it. You never were one to listen to others, in the best way possible, you tuned out the irrelevant. I loved that about you. Currently, I'm in London, single apartment. Its prime for where I work."
There was silence, she was looking at me, analysing me. I was first to break the it. "So, what happened to him? I'm single but are you still with him."
"Are you talking about Josh or Mac or both?"
"Both, I suppose."
"Firstly, I wasn't really dating any of them. Well Josh, kind of. I mean he did break up with me but I've always been there for him. Josh is...Josh. And Mac's a father now and on top of work and making sure Josh is okay, he has no time for me. But hey that's life."
"What do you mean by Josh is Josh?"
"I mean Josh is Josh. He's still doing drugs but I can't keep,"
She paused. The struggle to find words evident as she pressed her lips together. She closed her eyes and began to speak once more.
"You can't save someone that doesn't want to be saved. You can't love someone that doesn't want to be loved. And at the age of twenty two, I can't do it anymore. I keep helping him, because I know one day I won't be there."
"Sounds like defeat, Mia."
"It's not defeat. It's fact I suppose. At the time, he was perfect for me, I needed to be needed and he needed help. It made me both happy and unhappy which I thought was significant at the time."
"You do realise your happiness didn't affect the people around you, whether they lived or not."
"My mother brought that way of thinking on me, and I kind of thought that...that that was right. But it wasn't. Tons of stuff happens in the world everyday, it's nothing I can control. It was a child's way of thinking and I guess I thought that if I was unhappy, it would counter balance the happiness others felt."
"Did you love him?"
"The word love is thrown around a lot. The word has lost all meaning. But to care for someone, it doesn't come and go, not like loving someone does. Caring for someone is painful, you become drawn in. It causes you both emotional and physical pain. You may think you love someone, but you could be uncertain. But you know you care for someone. You thought you loved me, but to be honest I think I'm just a faded memory of yours."
I stepped towards her, grabbing her hand, pulling her close to me.
"That may be but we can all have different definitions of loving someone. Yours may be different to mind and mine may be different to the next person's but in short understand that my idea of loving someone is just the willingness to be around them simply. To want to be with them everyday and night. To want to hold them and to never seen them cry. Now why would you think you'd be a fading memory?"
"I'm not worth remembering."
I smacked the side of her head and she grinned at me stupidly.
"Amelia, you're so fucking stupid. I still fucking love you. Or care about you. Whatever will make you stay with me, I'm willing to do it. Even if that means giving up a my name to be with you."
"Giving up Alexander is really going to reel me in. You have me now, boy."
"I mean my money."
Her tone was dry, but nevertheless I pressed my lips to hers. Wrapping an arm around her waist and closing the gap between us completely. I pried her mouth open with my tongue and allowed it to explore her mouth. As our mouths unattached, I smirked at her.
"I'm not going anywhere, Alex, you know that right?"
"What do you mean 'anywhere'. Anywhere without me, is what you really meant."
"Don't tell me what I mean I'm not a child."
"You may as well be."
"Now what is that suppose to mean?"
"Mia, can you just tell me how you feel about me?"
"I think you know how I feel about you."
"Yes, asking me to ignore you for seven years before re igniting something is a true expression of emotion."
"All I wanna do is be with you, be with you. There's nothing we can't do I just wanna be with you. Only you. No matter where life takes us nothing can break us apart. You know it's true. I just wanna be with you."
"Mia, what was that?"
"High School Musical really helps me express my emotions."
"You're a child."
"Yeah, but you adore this child."
"No, I care for this child."
"Yeah, but you want to fuck this child."
"Stop it Mia, this sounds like paedophile."
"You can't stop me."
"No, but I can try."
With that she took a sneaky step towards me, holding my eyes as her crinkled delicately at the side as she smiled up at me."How are you going to do that, Alexander the great?"
Grabbing her hand, I pulled her as tight as I could towards me, pressing my forehead to hers. "First, I'm going to buy you that house you know you want. The cute little suburban house with the white picket fence and the unhealthy green green grass. "
Again, reviews make me smile even if all you can say is one little word!