Untitled Short Story
I urge everyone to read this, It's really brief. It's about a boy and his torturous silence.
Like I said, it's super brief. I don't know if I'm going to do anything with it or not. Let me know if you have any suggestions about it.
* * * * *
I.
Was.
Miserable.
Part of that was because I was so shy. If I had been more outgoing, I would have always hung out with the other guys and played sports or video games or done some other activity. But instead of socializing, I would always do my homework or something else that involved being locked in my room. And I didn’t like sports or video games. I liked reading and drawing and listening to music. And getting lost in my own fantasies…
That was definitely a large part of the reason for my misery. I stayed at home too much. And she was always over here. Almost every day for fourteen years, and half those nights. I would get home from school, and my sister already had them sitting in the living room playing Barbies or sticker books or, in more recent years, makeovers.
She looked ugly in make-up. It did her skin and facial features a major injustice.
She sat across from me at the dinner table. It was the reason I was so skinny. I had a hard time downing my food when she was there at the table.
When it was bedtime, I’d lay in my bed listening to their giggling. I always wondered what could make her laugh so much.
Morning’s were the worst. I was still groggy when I came out of the bathroom after rolling out of bed. I was not a morning person. Then I’d meander into the kitchen and ask my mother for cereal before I realized that she was sitting there, eating, staring at me. My blush would always add to my humiliation before I ran back to my room to prepare for the day and try to look a little decent and not humiliate myself. The car rides to school were always awkward for me. And the ones home too.
I would sometimes wonder if she even had parents, or a home, she was over here so much.
"Heya, Ashton. Wassup?" The voice pulled me out of my memories. I jumped and smacked my forehead on the hot bulb of the lamp.
"Ow."
She tried to conceal her giggle. "Ooh, are you okay?"
"Um, yeah, fine…" My voice became a mumble as I looked down at my desk. Apparently, I had been working on another one of my drawings.
She wandered into my room from the doorway and leaned back against my desk. She was right next to me, and her smell made me dizzy.
"Oh, wow that’s beautiful. But all your drawings are. Not that you can see them. Why don’t you turn on the light or open the window shade?"
She was referring to the plethora of drawings that covered every millimeter of my walls and ceiling. "I like it dark. It helps me concentrate." My quiet voice sounded timid. Damn it.
"You have the coolest hair ya know."
I thought I was going to throw up.
My knees bobbed up and down and my hands shook. My whole body was quivering. "Um, thank-"
"So messy and disheveled and spiky. But that’s what makes it awesome."
She ran her hand through my hair.
I froze.
I stopped breathing.
My heart stopped beating.
"Well, I guess I’ll see ya. I just, um, came in here to ask you if you could drive me to the movies tomorrow?"
For one wild moment, I totally thought she said something else.
I didn’t answer.
"Well, your sister wants to meet me there after her date tomorrow, and I don’t really want to impose on your parents. If you can’t that’s fine though." She started to leave.
My sister. My sister! I almost wanted to blame her for all of this.
You could, if you wanted to.
No. No, I can’t. It’s not her fault. I can’t blame her for being best friends with my demise. This is my own problem.
This is my problem. And I’m tired of it. There is a solution. Just solve the problem, Ashton.
"Wait." I got up and went to her. She was in my doorway again.
I opened my mouth to speak.
You’ve destroyed me and I am so in love with you.
"Yeah. Yeah, I can take you. It won’t be a problem."
"Great! Thanks a bunch!" She went back into my sister’s room and shut the door.
I stood in my doorway, a broken man.
My mom walked by, carrying a laundry basket in one hand, the side pressed against her hip. "Hey sweetie." She ruffled my hair and slid her hand down the side of my face in a loving gesture. "Is something wrong, honey?" She frowned when she saw my face
I turned and went back into my room, shutting the door behind me.
"Puberty," I heard her mumble dismissively.
I sat back down at my desk and stared at my half-completed drawing, fighting back the urge to cry.
I.
Was.
Miserable.
And now, I was doomed as well.
* * * * *
Again, let me know if you think I should do anything with it. It was something I just scribbled down. I think I'm in one of my random moods. This one's sad... or something.
Trick or treat! Leave me candy!
L.o.L.
-LL
* * * * *
I.
Was.
Miserable.
Part of that was because I was so shy. If I had been more outgoing, I would have always hung out with the other guys and played sports or video games or done some other activity. But instead of socializing, I would always do my homework or something else that involved being locked in my room. And I didn’t like sports or video games. I liked reading and drawing and listening to music. And getting lost in my own fantasies…
That was definitely a large part of the reason for my misery. I stayed at home too much. And she was always over here. Almost every day for fourteen years, and half those nights. I would get home from school, and my sister already had them sitting in the living room playing Barbies or sticker books or, in more recent years, makeovers.
She looked ugly in make-up. It did her skin and facial features a major injustice.
She sat across from me at the dinner table. It was the reason I was so skinny. I had a hard time downing my food when she was there at the table.
When it was bedtime, I’d lay in my bed listening to their giggling. I always wondered what could make her laugh so much.
Morning’s were the worst. I was still groggy when I came out of the bathroom after rolling out of bed. I was not a morning person. Then I’d meander into the kitchen and ask my mother for cereal before I realized that she was sitting there, eating, staring at me. My blush would always add to my humiliation before I ran back to my room to prepare for the day and try to look a little decent and not humiliate myself. The car rides to school were always awkward for me. And the ones home too.
I would sometimes wonder if she even had parents, or a home, she was over here so much.
"Heya, Ashton. Wassup?" The voice pulled me out of my memories. I jumped and smacked my forehead on the hot bulb of the lamp.
"Ow."
She tried to conceal her giggle. "Ooh, are you okay?"
"Um, yeah, fine…" My voice became a mumble as I looked down at my desk. Apparently, I had been working on another one of my drawings.
She wandered into my room from the doorway and leaned back against my desk. She was right next to me, and her smell made me dizzy.
"Oh, wow that’s beautiful. But all your drawings are. Not that you can see them. Why don’t you turn on the light or open the window shade?"
She was referring to the plethora of drawings that covered every millimeter of my walls and ceiling. "I like it dark. It helps me concentrate." My quiet voice sounded timid. Damn it.
"You have the coolest hair ya know."
I thought I was going to throw up.
My knees bobbed up and down and my hands shook. My whole body was quivering. "Um, thank-"
"So messy and disheveled and spiky. But that’s what makes it awesome."
She ran her hand through my hair.
I froze.
I stopped breathing.
My heart stopped beating.
"Well, I guess I’ll see ya. I just, um, came in here to ask you if you could drive me to the movies tomorrow?"
For one wild moment, I totally thought she said something else.
I didn’t answer.
"Well, your sister wants to meet me there after her date tomorrow, and I don’t really want to impose on your parents. If you can’t that’s fine though." She started to leave.
My sister. My sister! I almost wanted to blame her for all of this.
You could, if you wanted to.
No. No, I can’t. It’s not her fault. I can’t blame her for being best friends with my demise. This is my own problem.
This is my problem. And I’m tired of it. There is a solution. Just solve the problem, Ashton.
"Wait." I got up and went to her. She was in my doorway again.
I opened my mouth to speak.
You’ve destroyed me and I am so in love with you.
"Yeah. Yeah, I can take you. It won’t be a problem."
"Great! Thanks a bunch!" She went back into my sister’s room and shut the door.
I stood in my doorway, a broken man.
My mom walked by, carrying a laundry basket in one hand, the side pressed against her hip. "Hey sweetie." She ruffled my hair and slid her hand down the side of my face in a loving gesture. "Is something wrong, honey?" She frowned when she saw my face
I turned and went back into my room, shutting the door behind me.
"Puberty," I heard her mumble dismissively.
I sat back down at my desk and stared at my half-completed drawing, fighting back the urge to cry.
I.
Was.
Miserable.
And now, I was doomed as well.
* * * * *
Again, let me know if you think I should do anything with it. It was something I just scribbled down. I think I'm in one of my random moods. This one's sad... or something.
Trick or treat! Leave me candy!
L.o.L.
-LL
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