a story to tell
A story I started because I was bored. I have no idea where it was going, and I think I really like it.
I walked past the lake to the playground. I smile at the little girl who’s swinging back and fourth on the metal swing. I want to tell her to be careful when the swings are wet, but her mother has just called for her. I also want to tell her that boys will break your heart and to stay away from them…but all that will do is make her curious. And being curious was how I got hurt.
I stick my hands in my pockets and decide to sit down on the mossy wooden bench that I’m sure has been home to another girl like me at some other time. My head falls back and I sigh.
“How did it ever get like this…?” I whisper into the air, closing my eyes.
“Like what?” I open my eyes, startled at the response. I look over to my left and see a stranger. It’s a boy, around my age. He’s wearing a denim jacket that has faded to an ugly grey and must be a couple years old. The shirt he’s wearing underneath might look cool, but it’s too damn covered up to tell. His jeans are obviously too big for him, though he hasn’t attempted to make them fit since he has no belt on and his checkered boxers are showing. He runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair and I continue to stare at him. Why would he care?
“Why do you care?” I ask, not thinking about my tone or how rude I had just been. Hell, he was rude to ask. The boy sits down next to me, and sticks out his hand.
“I’m Pat… with two t’s.” So Patt leaves his hand out for me to shake, though I’m obviously not going to. Then as if his mind actually was controlling my actions, I find myself sticking out my own hand. I don’t get it, but maybe there isn’t anything to get. His hand is warm, and mine is clammy. I quickly put my hand back into my jacket pocket, staring at him still. He doesn’t ask me for my name, he just sits there like an idiot, waiting for me to talk.
Well, I tell him in my head, I’m not gonna. So then, this Patt person takes out a cigarette and offers me one. Did he just expect that I would take it? Do I seem like the kind of girl that would take a cigarette? I’m offended, but I don’t tell him, mostly because I do smoke, and I would’ve taken it.
“…No.” I said sternly, shaking my head. For some reason, I don’t want to him to know that I smoke, it would ruin things. Patt puts the cigarette behind his ear, smiling at me whilst he does. Damn…. I think to myself, I could really use that cigarette now. He takes one long drag before the smoke comes out of his nose. I can see what the smoking has done to his cheeks. There are wrinkles across his face, joining his freckles. I look away, but really, I couldn’t be more intrigued. So then, as he starts to inhale for the second time, I start talking.
“When I was six….I wanted to be a ballerina. I thought it would’ve been amazing to twirl on your toes, feeling so light and graceful. Then I actually tried it…and gave up the next day. I told my mom it hurt too badly.” I laughed at myself, not even checking to see if he was listening….or if he cared. “I wish that I could stop other things if they hurt…Other things in life. Love for instance….love hurts.” And at this statement, I see Patt shake his head.
“No, you don’t.” He looks at me with these green eyes and all I can do is nod. What the hell? So…I don’t want love to stop? Okay, I think. I swear I could be hypnotized by his eyes. He then sucks on the cigarette one more time, and turns away from me. I continue.
“My Grandma used to send me presents every Christmas. She would send them a month in advance, because she didn’t know that mail didn’t take three and a half weeks to get to me. Then, when I was six, she stopped sending them so early. I figured my parents had actually told her that there was no need to send it so early. Every day I came home from school, I desperately wanted to see a present. Seeing nothing each day, I was furious.” I looked to Patt, who was just smoking away, probably not even listening. It didn’t matter; it was nice to talk about nothing for once. “…and so one day I approached both of my parents. I said ‘mom, dad, did you talk to Grandma?’ They looked at each other and then to me. ‘No’ they replied ‘why?’ I shook my head; I figured I was just paranoid and that I was being silly. I mean, who really cared if her presents didn’t come as early anymore, right? I finally received my present from ‘her’ two weeks later. It was two years later when my parents finally told me that she had died. By then, I had already realized.” Patt turned to me and just stared.
“Enough shit…” I stared at him, dumbfounded. Who was this guy? He seemed to see that I was offended, and did this sort of apologetic look that I sort of got. Though, I bet if he had tried that on anyone else, they would’ve thought he was trying to seduce them. I understood.
“You’re wondering why I’m like this?” I ask, and he just stares at me. Even though he’s not saying anything I think I understand. He’s giving me this cold stare and I know he’s thinking ‘why the hell am I listening to you’. Then he surprises me.
“I’m interested…” He doesn’t have to say more than those two words. I swallow all the assumptions I had of him, he is now a friend. He’s a stranger, who I feel like I can trust. He doesn’t know me, so I know he won’t go tell anyone else. I don’t smile, but I let him know that I appreciate it.
“I don’t really know when it started… you never notice you’ve changed until you’re already there…. Until the transformation’s already complete and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.” Then he just looks at me, and for some reason, I get the feeling like he knows me better than I can even know myself. I nod and continue. “It was probably around my seventeenth birthday…” Then, I really began.
“Mooooommm!” I ran downstairs and found my Mom washing dishes; she turned to me and sighed. I just put a hand on my hip and stared at her.
“What Leah?!” She folded the dish towel she had been using, and turned towards me. I rolled my eyes and pointed to the dress I was wearing. It was too small, couldn’t she see that?! I walked down the last two steps and showed her my back.
“It won’t zip up any further!” I reached my hand around and tried to grasp the zipper between my fingers. I couldn’t reach. Almost expecting my mom to help, I turned around in a fury to find that she was washing dishes again. “MOM!” I yelled angrily, demanding her attention. She turned to me and scowled.
“Leah Kelly Malone, DON’T speak to me like that!” She threw the dish towel on the counter and shook her head. “You can either ask politely or I won’t help at all.” I sighed and offered her an apology.
“I’m sorry, mom…I’m just so stressed out!” I slowly walked forward and then showed her how the zipper wouldn’t budge. “Please help?” I asked, offering my best puppy dog face. Mom sighed and I soon felt her fingers on my back, attempting to zip up my dress.
“I understand Leah; just…I would appreciate it if you knew that I’m stressed out too… Work has been crazy lately, and plus, I’ve been planning your party for the past month.” I nodded; I really did get it, though it was just hard sometimes to feel for my mom. “Your father has been in Guatemala for the past two weeks so taking care of you and Josh can be quite a handful.” I nodded, hearing Josh playing video games in the next room. I looked behind me, and saw her untangle a piece of fabric from the zipper. The next second, she was able to fully zip up the dress. “Ah…there we go!” She patted me on the back and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks mom, love you!” I yelled as I took off up the stairs. Given I was sucking my stomach in the most I could; I couldn’t jog up the stairs very fast.
That's all I have so far.
I walked past the lake to the playground. I smile at the little girl who’s swinging back and fourth on the metal swing. I want to tell her to be careful when the swings are wet, but her mother has just called for her. I also want to tell her that boys will break your heart and to stay away from them…but all that will do is make her curious. And being curious was how I got hurt.
I stick my hands in my pockets and decide to sit down on the mossy wooden bench that I’m sure has been home to another girl like me at some other time. My head falls back and I sigh.
“How did it ever get like this…?” I whisper into the air, closing my eyes.
“Like what?” I open my eyes, startled at the response. I look over to my left and see a stranger. It’s a boy, around my age. He’s wearing a denim jacket that has faded to an ugly grey and must be a couple years old. The shirt he’s wearing underneath might look cool, but it’s too damn covered up to tell. His jeans are obviously too big for him, though he hasn’t attempted to make them fit since he has no belt on and his checkered boxers are showing. He runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair and I continue to stare at him. Why would he care?
“Why do you care?” I ask, not thinking about my tone or how rude I had just been. Hell, he was rude to ask. The boy sits down next to me, and sticks out his hand.
“I’m Pat… with two t’s.” So Patt leaves his hand out for me to shake, though I’m obviously not going to. Then as if his mind actually was controlling my actions, I find myself sticking out my own hand. I don’t get it, but maybe there isn’t anything to get. His hand is warm, and mine is clammy. I quickly put my hand back into my jacket pocket, staring at him still. He doesn’t ask me for my name, he just sits there like an idiot, waiting for me to talk.
Well, I tell him in my head, I’m not gonna. So then, this Patt person takes out a cigarette and offers me one. Did he just expect that I would take it? Do I seem like the kind of girl that would take a cigarette? I’m offended, but I don’t tell him, mostly because I do smoke, and I would’ve taken it.
“…No.” I said sternly, shaking my head. For some reason, I don’t want to him to know that I smoke, it would ruin things. Patt puts the cigarette behind his ear, smiling at me whilst he does. Damn…. I think to myself, I could really use that cigarette now. He takes one long drag before the smoke comes out of his nose. I can see what the smoking has done to his cheeks. There are wrinkles across his face, joining his freckles. I look away, but really, I couldn’t be more intrigued. So then, as he starts to inhale for the second time, I start talking.
“When I was six….I wanted to be a ballerina. I thought it would’ve been amazing to twirl on your toes, feeling so light and graceful. Then I actually tried it…and gave up the next day. I told my mom it hurt too badly.” I laughed at myself, not even checking to see if he was listening….or if he cared. “I wish that I could stop other things if they hurt…Other things in life. Love for instance….love hurts.” And at this statement, I see Patt shake his head.
“No, you don’t.” He looks at me with these green eyes and all I can do is nod. What the hell? So…I don’t want love to stop? Okay, I think. I swear I could be hypnotized by his eyes. He then sucks on the cigarette one more time, and turns away from me. I continue.
“My Grandma used to send me presents every Christmas. She would send them a month in advance, because she didn’t know that mail didn’t take three and a half weeks to get to me. Then, when I was six, she stopped sending them so early. I figured my parents had actually told her that there was no need to send it so early. Every day I came home from school, I desperately wanted to see a present. Seeing nothing each day, I was furious.” I looked to Patt, who was just smoking away, probably not even listening. It didn’t matter; it was nice to talk about nothing for once. “…and so one day I approached both of my parents. I said ‘mom, dad, did you talk to Grandma?’ They looked at each other and then to me. ‘No’ they replied ‘why?’ I shook my head; I figured I was just paranoid and that I was being silly. I mean, who really cared if her presents didn’t come as early anymore, right? I finally received my present from ‘her’ two weeks later. It was two years later when my parents finally told me that she had died. By then, I had already realized.” Patt turned to me and just stared.
“Enough shit…” I stared at him, dumbfounded. Who was this guy? He seemed to see that I was offended, and did this sort of apologetic look that I sort of got. Though, I bet if he had tried that on anyone else, they would’ve thought he was trying to seduce them. I understood.
“You’re wondering why I’m like this?” I ask, and he just stares at me. Even though he’s not saying anything I think I understand. He’s giving me this cold stare and I know he’s thinking ‘why the hell am I listening to you’. Then he surprises me.
“I’m interested…” He doesn’t have to say more than those two words. I swallow all the assumptions I had of him, he is now a friend. He’s a stranger, who I feel like I can trust. He doesn’t know me, so I know he won’t go tell anyone else. I don’t smile, but I let him know that I appreciate it.
“I don’t really know when it started… you never notice you’ve changed until you’re already there…. Until the transformation’s already complete and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.” Then he just looks at me, and for some reason, I get the feeling like he knows me better than I can even know myself. I nod and continue. “It was probably around my seventeenth birthday…” Then, I really began.
“Mooooommm!” I ran downstairs and found my Mom washing dishes; she turned to me and sighed. I just put a hand on my hip and stared at her.
“What Leah?!” She folded the dish towel she had been using, and turned towards me. I rolled my eyes and pointed to the dress I was wearing. It was too small, couldn’t she see that?! I walked down the last two steps and showed her my back.
“It won’t zip up any further!” I reached my hand around and tried to grasp the zipper between my fingers. I couldn’t reach. Almost expecting my mom to help, I turned around in a fury to find that she was washing dishes again. “MOM!” I yelled angrily, demanding her attention. She turned to me and scowled.
“Leah Kelly Malone, DON’T speak to me like that!” She threw the dish towel on the counter and shook her head. “You can either ask politely or I won’t help at all.” I sighed and offered her an apology.
“I’m sorry, mom…I’m just so stressed out!” I slowly walked forward and then showed her how the zipper wouldn’t budge. “Please help?” I asked, offering my best puppy dog face. Mom sighed and I soon felt her fingers on my back, attempting to zip up my dress.
“I understand Leah; just…I would appreciate it if you knew that I’m stressed out too… Work has been crazy lately, and plus, I’ve been planning your party for the past month.” I nodded; I really did get it, though it was just hard sometimes to feel for my mom. “Your father has been in Guatemala for the past two weeks so taking care of you and Josh can be quite a handful.” I nodded, hearing Josh playing video games in the next room. I looked behind me, and saw her untangle a piece of fabric from the zipper. The next second, she was able to fully zip up the dress. “Ah…there we go!” She patted me on the back and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks mom, love you!” I yelled as I took off up the stairs. Given I was sucking my stomach in the most I could; I couldn’t jog up the stairs very fast.
That's all I have so far.