Guerras Perdidas_El Final, THE END!
"The greatest thing since bread came sliced ..." ~ REM
Samantha woke up before he did, sighed and pulled the sheets up to cover her breasts. Just like in the movies. She didn't know why she should feel so shy next to this boy who had already seen her naked, who'd shared with her the ultimate intimacy ... well physical intimacy, anyways, because there were a lot of other more personal and important intimacies she just realized.
As Samantha sat in his bedroom watching all the posters of the rock bands and the anime shows and the science he loved so much, pretty much a geek explosion of all his loves and interests, a room she had once been fairly acquainted with in their childhood now all changed, Sam wondered if perhaps this would have been the natural progression of their relationship. Best friends since childhood, he knew things about her only her journal did, and not another living soul on earth. Would they have become more than friends, just lovers, something else, something less or what? She wouldn't know. What Sam did know was that losing her virginity had been a lot of a hassle and really the boy hadn't been that insensitive. But when it came down to it he'd been very quick and it had not been this grand thing that everyone had made it out to be.
It was not exactly that it had not been pleasurable, it's just that ...
She'd had to help him get it up, mostly because he was too nervous. He'd been very hard at first but then he'd kind of withered and retired. Samantha had done things she'd never thought she would but she wanted to know what it felt like to have sex. And who better than her best friend since forever. Except it had not been that grand romantic thing like in the movies with the gorgeous background music and them smiling at each other, the boy asking her if she really wanted to because he cared that Sam was ready to go with it. No pressure, just two consenting people. Well, it was a joke, they'd both been consenting but he'd already come in his pants even before they had started. He was so nervous and so eager and Sam had felt that it was wrong but when else would she get a chance to do this again. Life was a clock ticking away slowly the hours of her life and Sam wanted to live everything she could before it was too late.
God but she wanted a cigarette right about now. It's not like it would kill her. The cancer had already taken care of that. Sam looked over at the boy, wondering if she should wake him, wondering if she shouldn't just sneak out and leave him there. Samantha sighed. Sexiquette was stupid. It's not like she watched Sex in the city, she didn't exactly know the appropriate exit strategy for when sleeping with your best friend. She wasn't old enough to watch that show. Then why was she old enough to die?
In the end she opted with leaving him a note apologizing for her sudden departure. Sam had skipped school to do this and while she didn't exactly regret it she didn't know what to do. She wanted to talk to her mother so badly. She'd felt so alone. Samantha had realized that she wanted to talk about it. No more secrets, no more pretending that life was normal and everything was going to be okay. She walked home, yeah it was noon and her mother would be wondering what she was doing home so early but enough was enough.
Samantha slammed the kitchen door open to announce her presence as much as to get her mother's attention. Her mother was on the phone in the dinning room and walked in. Her face seemed to say, "Oh it's you Sam," and then her eyes wandered over to the clock on the wall and her expression changed to "What's wrong?"
In the other room the television blared Dr. Phil doling out his advice self-righteously, and with the religious gusto of someone assured of their rightness. Samantha walked over took the remote and shut off the television.
"Momma we need to talk," she said.
"Honey I'm on the phone with ..."
"It's important," Samantha replied.
"So is this dear, I need to ..." before she could finish Samantha had taken the phone.
"Hello, excuse me? I'm sorry I don't know who this is but my mother will just have to call you right back, you see I don't have a lot of time left and I need to talk to my mother. You see I'm dying. I'll have her call you back, okay? Bye!"
"Samantha what's gotten into you?" her mother asked shocked. "That was so rude, give me the phone back I need to call Mrs. Anderson back and apologize."
"Mother, stop it! Just ... just stop okay. I am dying."
"Samantha I wont talk about this ... I ... not right now."
"If not now when? When I'm dead? I could go any minute now. And you're just going on with your life like it's normal, like I'm not popping a hundred different pills to stave off the pain like I'm ever actually going to get a chance to go to college. Mom, face it ... I'm dying. I don't ... I don't want to waste the last ... days of my life living this stupid ordinary life."
"Samantha I don't want to hear you talk about that. I don't want you to talk like that you can't give up, you can't ..."
"It's not giving up ... it's knowing there's no hope and not ... I don't want to waste my last couple of days weeks, whatever pretending I'm not sick and dying."
"Damnit Samantha, stop it! Stop it ... just ... stop, already!" her mother started shaking uncontrollably, and she made to sit down on the perfectly white sofas, two years old and unstained and just as pristine as the day they were bought. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know. I don't ... I don't ..." her mother buried her face in her hands crying. "Oh God," she said, she was having a hard time breathing and for the first time Samantha felt sorry, and very guilty for what she had done.
"I'm ... I'm sorry Momma," she said sitting next to her. Her mother held her, held her so tightly that Samantha thought she would break. But it was nice to be held that way and not kept at a distance with kisses on the cheek and pats on the shoulder. It seemed like so long. "I'm sorry Momma, I don't want to die," she said as away of apology.
They sat there together and cried.
A blue Mercedes drove up to the house, as the early evening set in. The man stepped out of the car and walked up to the house door by the kitchen and stopped at the sound of laughter coming from within the house. It was awkward. He stopped. It was the sound of laughter. It had been a long time since he had heard the sound of laughter from his house, much less his wife and daughter.
When father walked in they were sitting in the kitchen around the table drinking tea and talking.
"We're going to Europe, daddy," Samantha said laughing.
Something was different about the room, the house, like the world had given out a deep breath that it had been holding for a long time ... and father cried but he knew that even in sadness there is happiness and life is short and everything has to be. Things would never be right, but they were better than they were before.
Lame ending I know I don't care ... it's a first draft but it's done! so Yay!
OH and
~THE END
Samantha woke up before he did, sighed and pulled the sheets up to cover her breasts. Just like in the movies. She didn't know why she should feel so shy next to this boy who had already seen her naked, who'd shared with her the ultimate intimacy ... well physical intimacy, anyways, because there were a lot of other more personal and important intimacies she just realized.
As Samantha sat in his bedroom watching all the posters of the rock bands and the anime shows and the science he loved so much, pretty much a geek explosion of all his loves and interests, a room she had once been fairly acquainted with in their childhood now all changed, Sam wondered if perhaps this would have been the natural progression of their relationship. Best friends since childhood, he knew things about her only her journal did, and not another living soul on earth. Would they have become more than friends, just lovers, something else, something less or what? She wouldn't know. What Sam did know was that losing her virginity had been a lot of a hassle and really the boy hadn't been that insensitive. But when it came down to it he'd been very quick and it had not been this grand thing that everyone had made it out to be.
It was not exactly that it had not been pleasurable, it's just that ...
She'd had to help him get it up, mostly because he was too nervous. He'd been very hard at first but then he'd kind of withered and retired. Samantha had done things she'd never thought she would but she wanted to know what it felt like to have sex. And who better than her best friend since forever. Except it had not been that grand romantic thing like in the movies with the gorgeous background music and them smiling at each other, the boy asking her if she really wanted to because he cared that Sam was ready to go with it. No pressure, just two consenting people. Well, it was a joke, they'd both been consenting but he'd already come in his pants even before they had started. He was so nervous and so eager and Sam had felt that it was wrong but when else would she get a chance to do this again. Life was a clock ticking away slowly the hours of her life and Sam wanted to live everything she could before it was too late.
God but she wanted a cigarette right about now. It's not like it would kill her. The cancer had already taken care of that. Sam looked over at the boy, wondering if she should wake him, wondering if she shouldn't just sneak out and leave him there. Samantha sighed. Sexiquette was stupid. It's not like she watched Sex in the city, she didn't exactly know the appropriate exit strategy for when sleeping with your best friend. She wasn't old enough to watch that show. Then why was she old enough to die?
In the end she opted with leaving him a note apologizing for her sudden departure. Sam had skipped school to do this and while she didn't exactly regret it she didn't know what to do. She wanted to talk to her mother so badly. She'd felt so alone. Samantha had realized that she wanted to talk about it. No more secrets, no more pretending that life was normal and everything was going to be okay. She walked home, yeah it was noon and her mother would be wondering what she was doing home so early but enough was enough.
Samantha slammed the kitchen door open to announce her presence as much as to get her mother's attention. Her mother was on the phone in the dinning room and walked in. Her face seemed to say, "Oh it's you Sam," and then her eyes wandered over to the clock on the wall and her expression changed to "What's wrong?"
In the other room the television blared Dr. Phil doling out his advice self-righteously, and with the religious gusto of someone assured of their rightness. Samantha walked over took the remote and shut off the television.
"Momma we need to talk," she said.
"Honey I'm on the phone with ..."
"It's important," Samantha replied.
"So is this dear, I need to ..." before she could finish Samantha had taken the phone.
"Hello, excuse me? I'm sorry I don't know who this is but my mother will just have to call you right back, you see I don't have a lot of time left and I need to talk to my mother. You see I'm dying. I'll have her call you back, okay? Bye!"
"Samantha what's gotten into you?" her mother asked shocked. "That was so rude, give me the phone back I need to call Mrs. Anderson back and apologize."
"Mother, stop it! Just ... just stop okay. I am dying."
"Samantha I wont talk about this ... I ... not right now."
"If not now when? When I'm dead? I could go any minute now. And you're just going on with your life like it's normal, like I'm not popping a hundred different pills to stave off the pain like I'm ever actually going to get a chance to go to college. Mom, face it ... I'm dying. I don't ... I don't want to waste the last ... days of my life living this stupid ordinary life."
"Samantha I don't want to hear you talk about that. I don't want you to talk like that you can't give up, you can't ..."
"It's not giving up ... it's knowing there's no hope and not ... I don't want to waste my last couple of days weeks, whatever pretending I'm not sick and dying."
"Damnit Samantha, stop it! Stop it ... just ... stop, already!" her mother started shaking uncontrollably, and she made to sit down on the perfectly white sofas, two years old and unstained and just as pristine as the day they were bought. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know. I don't ... I don't ..." her mother buried her face in her hands crying. "Oh God," she said, she was having a hard time breathing and for the first time Samantha felt sorry, and very guilty for what she had done.
"I'm ... I'm sorry Momma," she said sitting next to her. Her mother held her, held her so tightly that Samantha thought she would break. But it was nice to be held that way and not kept at a distance with kisses on the cheek and pats on the shoulder. It seemed like so long. "I'm sorry Momma, I don't want to die," she said as away of apology.
They sat there together and cried.
A blue Mercedes drove up to the house, as the early evening set in. The man stepped out of the car and walked up to the house door by the kitchen and stopped at the sound of laughter coming from within the house. It was awkward. He stopped. It was the sound of laughter. It had been a long time since he had heard the sound of laughter from his house, much less his wife and daughter.
When father walked in they were sitting in the kitchen around the table drinking tea and talking.
"We're going to Europe, daddy," Samantha said laughing.
Something was different about the room, the house, like the world had given out a deep breath that it had been holding for a long time ... and father cried but he knew that even in sadness there is happiness and life is short and everything has to be. Things would never be right, but they were better than they were before.
Lame ending I know I don't care ... it's a first draft but it's done! so Yay!
OH and
~THE END