This story was created from the depths of my brain late at night, a restless plot bunny that I knew I had to share. This will be an ongoing story that may or may not ever be finished. I am just writing it for writing's sake, and that's why I'm publishing it on here. I have no interest of continuing it on into a real book, unlike my other stories, but I do feel like it needs to be shared. If you feel like the plot is messy and the characters undeveloped, you are probably right. But I hope you can still enjoy it!~
This is probably going to sound like a love story.
That's what my life is, I guess. At least with her it was. I would never have dreamed of falling in love, my life being the sad existence that it was. School, food and sleep. No room for friends, no room for emotions, no room for romance. I had deliberately cut myself off from the rest of the world, saving myself from the hurt that I knew real life would entail.
But then she came prancing into my life. She dismantled my walls, found my tender spots. I couldn't help but reveal my real self when she was in my presence. It was as if she had a secret power over me. I sometimes wonder what it was about her that made her so magical, but then I realize that it was her everything.
This story is about my life and her, both completely synonymous...for she was my life.
... ... ... ... ... ...
I swam through the ocean of backpacks, elbows, and sweaty teenage bodies on my way to class. It was a hard task, for my nose was sunk deep into a book, but after three years of practice I was able to maneuver the crowded halls with ease, even if I wasn't looking.
The first day of my last year of school. I was relieved. School was perhaps the worst thing invented by mankind; it was a prison that promoted knowing the Pythagorean theorem and the Oxford comma rather than the general welfare of its students. To make room for more algebra and chemistry, they cut down on physical and artistic education. Kids asked for help, but the teachers accused them of not paying attention. I hated it. When I said I couldn't wait for graduation day, I truly meant it.
I sat down in a desk near the back of the room, still reading my book. This one was particularly more interesting than many other books I had recently read. It was about the Donner Party, a subject that had always fascinated me. I had never been one who liked to read non-fiction, but the promise of eventual cannibalism wavered me into reading it. I was just getting to the part where they were snowed in up in the Sierras when someone interrupted me.
"Um, excuse me." I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I looked up at them irritably. One thing that I hated more than school was someone who bothered me while I was reading a book, especially a good one.
Suddenly I found myself staring into the depths of a pair of green eyes. They belonged to a girl, a very pretty one at that. Most girls around my school wore layers upon layers of make-up, making them look like clownish fashionistas, but this girl didn't have the faintest hint of blush or mascara. I gaped at her as she blushed apologetically. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bother you... I was just wondering if I could borrow a pen and paper. I forgot mine at home. This is my first day at this school and I..." She trailed off.
She peered at me awkwardly, shyly chewing at her lip. "Sure," I said finally, realizing she had been waiting for a response. I fished through my backpack and resurfaced with a pen and notebook.
"Thank you so much," she said. Strangely, her words sounded more than sincere, like she was so thankful she would give me her first-born child in return.
"No problem," I grunted, returning to my book.
A few seconds later I felt another light tap on my shoulder.
"Sorry again," she said quietly. "I just...I saw your book..."
I glanced down at the cover of my book, Ordeal by Hunger printed lavishly over a man trying to shovel 4 feet of snow out of his way. "Yeah?"
"Is this your first time reading it?" She blushed again. I had never seen someone as shy as her before. It seemed as if she couldn't make it past a few sentences before blushing, apologizing, or trailing off.
"Yeah," I answered.
Her lips curled into a small smile. "Do you like it?"
"Yeah." I felt like a broken record. I was unaccustomed to girls purposely upholding a conversation with me, especially on the subject of books.
Her smile grew larger. "Good."
I wasn't necessarily stunned, but my mind had abruptly lost the ability to think. It never occurred to me that anyone in the vicinity of 100 miles had tried to read Ordeal by Hunger, let alone a girl. It was both compelling and shocking. "Uh... You've read it?"
"Oh yes. Death and destruction have always been favourites of mine." She said it jokingly, but I could tell that there was a small layer of truth to it. I looked over her more carefully. She wore brightly coloured clothes, her shirt sporting a rainbow peace sign. Her attire had no hint of the stereotypical fashion of most "goths". But the more I studied her the more confused I became. She didn't have the attitude of a prep. She had no resemblance to a nerd. Down the social list I went, crossing off each and every one. She was a mixture of them all, I finally decided. Bits and pieces of different puzzles strangely fitting together to make an intriguing masterpiece.
"...the Donner Party has always been one of the most engaging parts of history, I think. Ordeal by Hunger illustrates it in such detail, too. I love it. I read it at least once a year."
I realized that she had continued talking as I was surveying her. "Cool," I mumbled, not knowing what else to say, feeling bad that I hadn't been paying attention to what she was saying.
"Sorry, I'm annoying you, aren't I? Sorry." She turned back around in her desk, losing all the energy she had had just a few moments before like a deflating balloon.
I was about to say, "no, not at all, please continue" when the bell for class to start impeded upon my words. She didn't talk to me for the rest of the period, although I caught her glancing at me multiple times.
I saw her later that day, once at lunch and once again by the buses after school. She was alone both times, and some strange force was trying to compel me to go over and talk to her. But I had never been one for socialization, so I merely watched her in a slightly stalkerish way as she went about her business. I noticed that she would often twirl her blonde hair around her slender finger, obviously a nervous habit. Then I wondered why that was important. I also wondered why I was even watching her in the first place, for I had never had an attraction towards anyone in my life before. But there was something so mysterious about her that I had to figure out...but first I had to figure out what that mysterious aspect was.
When I got home, I realized I didn't even know her name.