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First Chapter Of a New Story! This Is Progresing Wonderfully |
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 Am I really just meant to be...It was in the mid chill of October. The leaves on the trees had changed from their vivid green gowns to their colorful autumn dresses that they would soon strip from. Some of the leaves already scattered the ground.
He crossed the park with his head lowered. He walked at his own pace, as if he had all the time in the world. His shaggy, layered hair hung loosely over one his dark eyes, framing it perfectly with the ebony color of his hair. He was thinking of the last time he was in this park.
It had been two years since he’s been here. He wished the chill of the wind would blow a little harder to clear his head. Then again, he wished it to remain calm to prevent a rush of memories from smacking him in the face.
He tried to avoid the walk path. The grass was safer for him at the moment. It was emotional for him after what had happened. That event that happened here that had, to him, scarred him for life.
The walk path tempted him, taunted him, to walk on it. He gave in, almost sub-consciously. That’s when he saw the bench. No, it wasn’t just a bench. It was the bench; the marker of where it had happened in that bleak December. It was too much for him. He lowered his head again and quickened his pace.
She was gabbing to her best friend Carissa. Carissa just nodded as she listened to Lisa go on about how she just knew how she was going to get the job at the bakery store.
“You’re always so optimistic, Lizzy,” Carissa interrupted her. “How can you be so optimistic? No, wait, ‘why?’ is more like it.”
Lizzy beamed at this. “Because,” she stated matter-of-factly, “if you keep thinking of all the bad things that can happen than they are bound to happen.”
“Karma?” Carissa pondered with a chuckle. “Lizzy, you can be such a ditz.”
Lizzy gave a small frown at this remark.
“But I still love you,” Carissa finished.
Lisa’s smile returned momentarily than faded once more. Her blue eyes clouded with melancholy. Her wavy brown hair fell over her left eye, but she didn’t bother swiping it from her face.
Carissa looked at her with concern. “What’s wrong now?”
She looked up at Carissa with saddened eyes. “Rissa,” she began, “do you think I’ll find someone to love me?”
Carissa frowned and wrapped her arms around Liz’s waist, gathering her close. “I love you, Lizzy.”
Liz leaned her head back onto her friend’s shoulder. “I mean a boy, Rissa. Like someone to really love me.” She put an emphasis on the ‘really’.
Carissa smiled as the wind whipped through her long raven hair, making it flutter behind her. The sting of the cold wind bit at their faces and caused their eyes to water. Standing there like that, they looked like a mournful couple.
“Of course, Lizzy. How could anyone not like you?”
“I don’t know,” Liz shrugged, revealing a bare shoulder where her jacket had slipped. “Maybe I’m not pretty enough.”
They were standing on the walk path in the park. It was their favorite place to go when one of them wanted to get away from the real world or when they wanted to talk in depth about something.
Carissa quickly scanned Liz up and down. She was wearing black shoes, faded blue jeans, a low cut, black shirt, and a light, black jacket over that. Her long brown hair feathered over her shoulders and brought a shocking color to her already beautiful wet blue eyes.
“Nonsense,” Carissa managed. “A man would a fool to not think you otherwise.”
Liz’s face brightened again. Carissa was always complimenting her.
“You can be optimistic of the bakery, why not a mate?” Serena queried, not wanting to say ‘boy’.
“It doesn’t seem possible to me.”
“Il arrivera,” Carissa replied hopefully, in her native tongue.
“It will happen,” Liz repeated her friend in English. Liz grinned and bounced from her friend’s arms. “I’ll race you to the bench!” she shouted.
“Liz!” Carissa held out her hand to signal her to stop, but it was too late. Lisa had bounded off, turned and knocked into a young boy that was also walking along the path. They clattered to the ground in a pile; Liz landing on top of him.
He felt her force ram into him, knocking him them both to the ground. He was laying on his back, trying to muster his breath as she lie on top of him, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Placing the palms of her hands on the ground, one to each side of his head, she tried to push herself up to examine the face of the boy she knocked down.
Her hair swept over his face; sub-consciously, he deeply inhaled the sweet scent of lavender that wafted from her hair. The way she pushed her upper body up made her crotch clash with his; primitive urges that he never knew existed came to life.
She wept her hair to a place behind her ear, giving him something else to breathe other than her sweet scent of fresh lavender. Coming to his senses, he put his hands on her hips, the accessible place he could get to that was fairly appropriate for handling a strange girl, and lolled her over onto the patch of grassy ground next to where he lay.
“Are you ok?” he asked her.
She gazed up at him, for he now lie on his side facing her and had propped himself up with his arm. His ebony hair that framed his dark eyes beautifully gave him a sense of grace.
“Yea,” she managed. “I’m sorry.”
He stood, brushing a few leaves from his ebony clothes. The dirt is bound to show, he thought. He chuckled, which was the closet to a laugh he’d come to in a while. He offered a hand to help her off the ground.
Coming to her feet, he noticed the leaves now scattered through her hair made her look amazingly attractive, but he shook the idea from his head.
She reached up unexpectedly, causing him to flinch at the gesture instinctively. She laughed at him for this and plucked a leaf from his hair. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“It’s fine,” he said smiling. He hadn’t smiled to a girl in a while either.
She held a hand out to introduce herself. “I’m Lisa. Lisa Langston.”
He took her hand. “Charlie. Charlie Livingston.”
She flustered a bit, her already pink cheeks morphing into a deeper rosy red. Noticing a scratch a on his forearm, she questioned hastily, “Oh my God, did I hurt you?”
Looking towards the minor scratch on his arm where her eyes were stuck, he shook his head. “No, I’m fine, really.”
“Okay then. If you say so,” she slightly stuttered.
Carissa strode toward them, wrapped her arms around Liz from the back, and smiled at Charlie.
“Quit pestering the boy. Il est beau,” Carissa whispered in Liz’s ear.
“Ok, ok. I see he’s doing fine,” Liz whispered back, rolling her eyes. “We’ll go now,” she said directing the statement to Charlie. “But as an apology”- she reached into her pocket and pulled out a card- “take my card. If there is ever anything I can do to help you, than call me. Anytime, any day, any where, I’ll be there.” She grinned as she handed him the card.
“You must be nuts,” Charles said in disbelief. “I’m a stranger and you’re willing to do this?” He raised a brow that was camouflaged behind his ebony hair.
“I owe you.” She placed a hand on his scratched arm. “I hurt you.”
Not the first time I’ve been hurt, he thought to himself. “It was nothing…”
“Come one, Miss Psycho,” Carissa cut him off as she spoke to Liz. “If you stick around any longer he may call the men in the white jackets,” she urged her friend tugging on her hand.
Liz obeyed and followed Rissa like a puppy on a leash, leaving Charles behind to deal with an overwhelming amount of horrid and beautiful memories that were rushing back to him faster than an avalanche rushes at a defenseless log cabin.
...just your play toy?
 storm_lvr · Fri Feb 29, 2008 @ 12:50am · 0 Comments |
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