Reconciliation
He looks at the sky and closes his eyes when a raindrop splashes onto his face.
What am I thinking? he asks himself. This is the stupidest thing I've ever done.
Around him, city goers rush past, trying to get out of the shower of rain. They glance at him for a second - one is even about to ask him why he was standing out in the rain, but realizes they are late for a meeting.
However right now, for Benny, this three storey town house in front of him is his focus. He's wanted to do this for fifteen years now.
It's not that he never got the chance, it's just that he hesitated. Should I, or shouldn't I? was the question that he asked himself all those years.
"You just need some time," someone once told him. Yeah, too much time. Sarcasm was his 'thing'.
The rain was now pouring, and poor Benny was drenched. Only when he checked his watch did he realize he was wet and cold.
"Damn it." he bites his lower lip, before climbing up the steps to the front door. There are a few doorbells with names next to them on his right. He moves over to them and squints his eyes. Mabel Anderson, Mabel Anderson, Mabel... oh! His eyes light up when he sees her name, but only for a split second.
He shakes his head. I'm not... I won't. And with that, he turns around and bounds down the steps, back onto the sidewalk.
"Now wait just a minute!" a voice says.
Benny freezes, looks around but sees no one.
"W-Who's there?" he stutters, into the night.
"Your conscience, you twit." Funny, he never thought his conscience would have a British accent.
"Really?" he blinks.
"Yes, really." Benny pictures an old man standing in front of him, with a fine white moustache, just rolling his eyes.
"Well... what do you want me to do?" Benny asks, 'looking' at the 'man'.
"I'd like it if you would turn around, walk up to the steps and press the doorbell."
"Why should I?" Benny sneers.
"It would be a waste, coming to New York for no reason!" the voice exclaims.
The guy was stumped, his mind blank. True, he came all the way from Minnesota just to see this woman - not seeing her would be foolish.
Without a word, Benny turns tail and walks up the steps again. He holds his finger over the doorbell, something still holding him back.
"What if..." he drifts off, knowing the voice will lecture him, and presses the doorbell.
He looks up at the window on the top floor and sees the silhouette of a figure move. Anxiety sets in - his stomach filling with 'butterflies'.
He tries to keep a straight face but his body won't give him a break; tears start to well up in his eyes.
"Now, now, my dear boy..." the voice says soothingly. "Everything'll be alright."
Benny nods and wipes the tears away with the back of his hand. If she sees him crying, who knows what she'd do.
He hears the door unlock and light slowly falls onto his face.
"Hello," Benny takes a step forward, smiling. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
-------
⇒ Constructive criticism much appreciated
⇒ Comment if you liked it ^^
What am I thinking? he asks himself. This is the stupidest thing I've ever done.
Around him, city goers rush past, trying to get out of the shower of rain. They glance at him for a second - one is even about to ask him why he was standing out in the rain, but realizes they are late for a meeting.
However right now, for Benny, this three storey town house in front of him is his focus. He's wanted to do this for fifteen years now.
It's not that he never got the chance, it's just that he hesitated. Should I, or shouldn't I? was the question that he asked himself all those years.
"You just need some time," someone once told him. Yeah, too much time. Sarcasm was his 'thing'.
The rain was now pouring, and poor Benny was drenched. Only when he checked his watch did he realize he was wet and cold.
"Damn it." he bites his lower lip, before climbing up the steps to the front door. There are a few doorbells with names next to them on his right. He moves over to them and squints his eyes. Mabel Anderson, Mabel Anderson, Mabel... oh! His eyes light up when he sees her name, but only for a split second.
He shakes his head. I'm not... I won't. And with that, he turns around and bounds down the steps, back onto the sidewalk.
"Now wait just a minute!" a voice says.
Benny freezes, looks around but sees no one.
"W-Who's there?" he stutters, into the night.
"Your conscience, you twit." Funny, he never thought his conscience would have a British accent.
"Really?" he blinks.
"Yes, really." Benny pictures an old man standing in front of him, with a fine white moustache, just rolling his eyes.
"Well... what do you want me to do?" Benny asks, 'looking' at the 'man'.
"I'd like it if you would turn around, walk up to the steps and press the doorbell."
"Why should I?" Benny sneers.
"It would be a waste, coming to New York for no reason!" the voice exclaims.
The guy was stumped, his mind blank. True, he came all the way from Minnesota just to see this woman - not seeing her would be foolish.
Without a word, Benny turns tail and walks up the steps again. He holds his finger over the doorbell, something still holding him back.
"What if..." he drifts off, knowing the voice will lecture him, and presses the doorbell.
He looks up at the window on the top floor and sees the silhouette of a figure move. Anxiety sets in - his stomach filling with 'butterflies'.
He tries to keep a straight face but his body won't give him a break; tears start to well up in his eyes.
"Now, now, my dear boy..." the voice says soothingly. "Everything'll be alright."
Benny nods and wipes the tears away with the back of his hand. If she sees him crying, who knows what she'd do.
He hears the door unlock and light slowly falls onto his face.
"Hello," Benny takes a step forward, smiling. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
-------
⇒ Constructive criticism much appreciated
⇒ Comment if you liked it ^^