Parley Info |
| Join the Crew! Rules & Guidelines Navigating Parley FAQ Introductions Latest News: Celebrating 3 Years! Joinable Groups |
"The ship is our's, gentlemen."Pirates of the Caribbean: the Curse of the Black Pearl |
Pirates of the Caribbean 4 Johnny Depp Joe Pancake What's the Last Movie You Saw? Movies You Want to See in 2009 The Person Below Me Game Ask a Pirate | |
Our Button: |
|||
| Welcome to Parley. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Shorts.; Short Stories. | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Nov 20 2008, 06:08 PM (142 Views) | |
| xDizzyx | Nov 20 2008, 06:08 PM Post #1 |
Smuggler
|
So, I had a few shorts that I've written, and I just wanted an opinion? This is the first one, it's quite long, sorry. Name: "Caitlin, This Is George." Rating: G (Suitable for everyone) Disclaimers: None. I own it all. Summary: I'm bad at these, please just read? “Caitlin, sweetheart, this is George…” - I wasn’t particularly drawn to you when I first met you. In fact, my first thoughts of you were “why is that boy not wearing matching socks?!” I thought you were a bit of a weirdo, to be honest. And I got the feeling that you didn’t like me very much either. Unless you pulled on the hair of all your friends, which I sincerely doubted. We met through our mothers, who in turn met through my brother. Your mum used to teach him, all those years ago. I met you at all those numerous meetings when your dad couldn’t pick you up to look after you. I used to be so happy when I saw you. We’d make up thing, things which seem so stupid now, but were so much fun when we made them up. We’d always make the two main characters bestest friends for the rest of their lives, saying that we’d be just like them. And we were. Soon after, we started school together. I couldn’t believe my luck when I found out we were in the same class! I was so so so so so excited. I’d got my best friend before my very first day, which I thought was the best thing in the world. When I walked through the front gate, I was amazed. Everything was so big! It looked so scary, but when I saw you, you ran up to me and grabbed my hand. You told me not to worry, that we’d make it through it together, even though you probably were just as scared as I was. You always were good at making me feel safe. - When we were seven years old, you had a birthday party and sleepover. I was sleeping over yours with a few of your friends. They thought it was weird that I was there and that because I was a girl I couldn’t do anything they did. I was the only girl there. Well, I showed them when I beat Tommy on your Playstation on some game. That’s when they started to accept me, although they still made fun of my sleeping bag when it was time to sleep, but you stood up for me and told them not to make fun of me, and that I was your best friend so they’d better shut up. You gave me a big hug, although it was kind of awkward through the sleeping bags, and we fell asleep like that. Your mum took a picture of it and I still have it in a frame next to my bed. Your friends made fun of you for it, but you told them that we were best friends so they’d better shut up. You said that a lot. It made me smile, knowing that I’d always have you to make all my sadness go away just by telling someone that. - “I’m going to get you!” “No you won’t! I’m way to fast for you!” We were eight, and you were chasing me around the park. I wasn’t at the stage where girls don’t play tag or run yet. I loved running. We ran around and around the park. You were really fast, and I thought that maybe you were letting me get away, but it was fun all the same. I screamed with delight as you caught me and knocked me to the ground. Not too roughly though, you always made sure you didn’t hurt me. You pinned me to the ground, and I tried to get up but you were to strong for me. I randomly started laughing, and that made you laugh. We laughed so hard that I ran out of breath and started coughing. You rolled off me and laid next to me on the grass. You took my hand into yours and I got this odd feeling in my tummy. Your hand was all soft, not like I expected a boys hand to be. I looked at you and you smiled at me. That feeling in my tummy didn’t leave me all afternoon. - We were nine when your dad left. I was there when it all happened. Me, you and your brother were playing Monopoly, and your brother was winning as always, and I was losing. As always. Your dad just walked into the room, swept our game across the room and started shouting abuse at your brother, who just sat there. He was scaring me, and I guess you could tell, because you took my hand, just like you did on our first day, the way that always made me feel better. Your mum burst in, screaming at your dad to leave your brother alone. She ran up to him but he just pushed her and she fell over. When he did that, both you and your brother jumped up to defend your mother. “What do you think you’re doing?!” your brother yelled. “She deserves it.” Your dad replied, in the calmest tone, as if he were announcing the weather. Your mum started to cry, and I went over to her. I told her not to cry, not to worry, and I took her hand, just like you did for me. Your dad came right up into my face and yelled at me. He grabbed my arm and threw me out of the way. That made you really mad. You started hitting him, and your brother had to drag you back before your dad hurt you. But he wasn’t fast enough. Your dad got you in the nose and I heard a crack. I loved that you’d always stick up for me, even if it got you hurt, although I thought it was silly of you to get hurt for me. I wasn’t paying attention to the argument until I heard something I didn’t understand. “Why don’t you just go to her?!” your mum yelled. I was so confused, who was her? “FINE! I WILL!” he stormed out. That was the last time we ever saw your dad. Your brother explained what your mum had meant about her, and all the other stuff that your dad had done, and I knew if I ever saw your dad again, I would cause him as much pain as he had caused you. - For months after you were so sad. I wanted to make you happy, the way you always made me. But I couldn’t. At school people were asking me what was wrong with you, but I kept it a secret, because that’s what best friends do. People even started making fun of you, so I told them that you were my best friend, so they’d better shut up. - You got your first girlfriend when you were twelve. She was brunette and had pretty green eyes with a splatter of freckles across her face and was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. She was nice, but I hated her. She was taking my best friend away from me. You were with her a whole month. That was the only month of my life where I didn’t hang around with you at school and outside of school we only saw each other a couple hours a week. Of course it didn’t last. You were too young to understand what love was at that age, I guess. When she broke up with you, you called me up and you cried to me. I’d never heard a boy cry before then, and it scared me a little. I told you to come over to mine and you did. You were the only boy my mum would let into my bedroom, because, well, it was you. So you sat on my bed and we talked for a bit, before you started crying again. I hugged you and told you not to worry, she wasn’t good enough for you. You looked me right in the eye, and your face was so close to mine that I swear you were going to kiss me or something. “Time for bed!” my mum called into my room, surprising both me and you. You were staying over, and we both got ready for bed. We were in my bed, and you were hugging me because I was cold. And that funny feeling in my tummy came back. - You returned the favour about two months later. My first real boyfriend dumped me for some other girl after a month and a half. I didn’t go home from school that day, I went to yours. You’d been ill, but you were better now. I bet I surprised you when I ran into your room and into your arms, with tears streaming down my face. You held me close to you, and stroked my hair, telling me not to worry, he wasn’t good enough for me. I laughed as I heard you telling me the exact same things I’d told you. You listened to me crying and didn’t tell me to stop making your shirt wet, like my brother had done. You promised me that you would murder the boy who’d broken my heart. You even went to his house. Right then. I stood behind you, not wanting him to see me. When you asked him why he broke my heart, and he gave you a big long list as to why his new girlfriend was better than me, do you remember what you said? “She’s my best friend, so you’d better shut up” That made me smile so much. I could’ve hugged you right there. But I didn’t. As we walked back to your house, you took my hand in that special way. When we were almost there, you stopped walking. “Caitlin?” you asked. “Yes, Georgie-kins?” I replied. There was a long silence. A really long silence. Then you told me not to worry, it didn’t matter. I got cold when we were walking and started shivering. You offered me your jacket, but I said no, you’d be cold then, but you insisted. It smelled of you, and I hugged it closer to me. You kept looking at me kind of oddly, but I dismissed it. I was still cold, so you let go of my hand and put your arm around me, pulling me in closer to you. I breathed you in. I loved your smell. It made me feel safe. Everything about you made me feel safe, like I knew you’d never let anything hurt me. When we got back to yours, we sat on your bed, listening to music. I was singing along. You were staring at me. I apologised for my awful singing and you told me not to be sorry, I had a beautiful voice. I blushed and you grinned at me. That wonderful grin that hadn’t changed in all the years I’d known you. “George?” “Yes, Caitlin?” “Why doesn’t he like me? Am I not pretty enough? Clever enough? Funny eno-“ you interrupted me. “Caitlin, he is a retard. You are the most beautiful, clever, funny, amazing girl I have ever met.” And you got so close to me, that for a second time, I thought you were going to kiss me. And this time you did. - Nothing ever came of that kiss. Well, not for a whole year. We were fourteen, sitting in your room. You had your guitar out, your acoustic one because you knew I liked the sound better, and was playing a song, which we were both singing along to. When I got to where I didn’t know anymore of the words, I listened to you. You were so talented. I smiled to myself and giggled. You looked up at me and smiled. “What?” you asked. “Nothing” I smiled. You started playing a different song, one I’d never heard before. “You’re my reason for believing, My reason to keep on living. You are my everything, I’d give up my sight to hear you sing. You’re my oxygen, my air, For you I will always care. I’ve known you all these years, We’ve had our fair share of laughter and tears. Caitlin, I wanted you to know. That I really love you so. Caitlin, I’m asking you, If you could possibly love me too?” I stared at him, wide-eyed. That feeling in my tummy was back. And this time I knew what it was. “Caitlin McGregor, I love you.” “I love you too, George Rowan.” That grin of yours lit up your face when I said that. You got closer… and closer… and we kissed. And I think my heart stopped a little - “I’m going to get you!” “No you won’t! I’m way too fast for you!” I screamed as you chased me around the park. We were fourteen now, so I was at that “girls don’t run, only when they’re being cute” stage. I screamed with delight when you caught me and pinned me to the ground, just like when we were nine. Except I’m pretty sure you weren’t kissing me when we were nine. I tried to get up but you held me down, that irresistible smile of yours flitting across your lips. And that feeling in my tummy? Yep, still there. - We had our first real argument when we were fifteen. We’d been together almost a year, and we were at your house, in your room. We were talking about old times and stuff, and you got mad at something I said. I asked you if you ever missed your dad, and you sort of flipped, yelling at me. I still don’t know what made you get that mad, but it made me mad because you were yelling at me. We screamed at each other and I stormed out before I burst into tears. You tried to follow me, but it was too dark, and I soon lost you. I went the long way, taking random turns so you wouldn’t catch me. And it worked. I got home and ran up to my room, crying. The next morning I got a phone call. It was from your mum. You’d been hit by a car on your way home. You were in hospital, and you were awake, but they didn’t know if you were going to make it. She told me that you had massive injuries, and that you kept going in and out of consciousness. I hung up, and ran out my front door. I ran all the way to the hospital. I asked at reception where you were, but they wouldn’t tell me. Then your mum came and told them who I was, and that I had to see him, and she took me to you. You were just about conscious when I got there. You looked so helpless, so pale, it made me cry. “Caitlin?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “Yes, George, it’s me.” I replied. “Caitlin, don’t cry, please.” “I’m so sorry, George, this is all my fault.” I cried. “No, Caitlin, this is not your fault. Look, if I don’t make it-“ “Don’t you dare talk like that” I interrupted. “- I want you to know how much I love you, Caitlin. And I made you this. I was going to give it to you yesterday, but y’know…” you carried on as though I hadn’t spoken and handed me a CD. I put it in my pocket and hugged you. You held my hand in the special way that always made me feel safe. You moved closer, and kissed me, and as always, I felt my heart stop. And then I heard yours do the same. “He’s flat lining!” I heard someone yell. Doctors hurried in around me, and I was pulled out and left outside to wait those agonising moments alone. I watched as they tried to resuscitate you, and broke down in tears as they gave up. I stormed through the doors, against the advice of your mum. “NO! DON’T YOU DARE GIVE UP ON HIM!” I screamed, “HE DESERVES TO LIVE. DON’T YOU DARE STOP!” The doctors looked at me sadly. The nurse tried to lead me outside but I couldn’t move. No. You couldn’t be gone. No. It wasn’t true. No. They were lying to me. No. It was a cruel joke. No. Not real. No. NO. - “George. How can I define how much he meant to me? It’s too much for words. He was the one person who knew absolutely everything about me, the one person I loved more than anything. I’m going to miss him so much. He was always there for me and he never hurt me, not once. He was, in every way, my guardian angel. And I know you’re watching over me. Sweet dreams, George. I love you.” Speaking at your funeral was hard. So hard. But when each person went to say their on goodbyes to you, that was even harder. I couldn’t do it at first. Nothing came out. But then words just began falling out of my mouth. “I’m so so sorry. You can tell me it’s not, but I know this is all my fault. I’ll never forgive myself for arguing with you that night. I love you so much, George. I can’t believe I’m never going to see you again. You made me so happy and you could always make me laugh. I love you, baby.” I spoke softly to you, as to not disturb you in your sleep. You looked so peaceful. That was how I’d been able to come today. I’d convinced myself you were just sleeping. At the end of the service, I plugged my iPod into my ears. I had put the CD you gave me onto it, and was listening to it now. It was all songs that you had written for me. I was listening to the song you wrote for me when we were fourteen, when you first told me that you loved me. I felt fresh tears sliding down my face. Your mum came up to me, Georgie, and you know what she gave me? A letter. From you. I opened the envelope and started to read. Dear Caitlin, I love you so much, Caitlin, remember that forever. I’m so sorry that we argued. I really don’t think I’m going to be leaving this hospital bed. I’ve heard them talking, it’s not looking good. I’m not afraid, Caitlin, I’m just so upset that I can’t stay with you. I have to go alone. You’ll never know how much it meant to me that you came to see me. Caitlin, I want you to remember that you are the most beautiful, clever, funny and amazing girl ever- just like I told you when we were twelve. You deserve someone who appreciates that. I want you to meet somebody and be happy, Caitlin, marry someone, have a family. You deserve it. I’m so sorry I have to leave you forever. I love you so much, Caitlin McGregor. Don’t you ever forget that, baby. Love, Georgie-kins x I could barely see through tears. I ran up to my brother and collapsed into his arms. I couldn’t stop tears spilling down my cheeks, and for once my brother didn’t tell me not to get his shirt wet. He held me to him, and stoked my hair, telling me not to worry, everything would be okay, just like you used to do. That only made me cry more. I was going to miss you so much. -- I’m eighteen now, Georgie. I still miss you so much, and I wonder why you had to leave everyone. You were the bestest ever friend and boyfriend I could have ever asked for. I hope you’re having fun in Heaven with Elvis or whoever. I love you, George Ronnie Rowan, and I always will. -- Georgie, you’d be so proud of me. My son was born last week. He had beautiful blue eyes and a mop of blonde hair. He looks like me, and looks surprisingly a bit like you. He looks most like his dad. I’m glad he has Tom’s nose, and not mine. Haha. Georgie, Tom proposed to me! Right in the hospital after the baby was born. Obviously I said yes. So I’ll soon be Caitlin Adams! Our son’s going to be one of his best men. He has two, because of course the little one can’t make a speech. I’m so happy, Georgie. Did I mention what me and my fiancée named the baby? George Ronnie Adams. &hearts |
 |
 
|
| Alia Atreides | Dec 31 2008, 09:05 PM Post #2 |
Journeyman Craftswoman
|
Sorry! I don't know how I missed this before!
 A couple very tiny grammar picks:
You want "too" there. And there was some missing punctuation, like in '“She’s my best friend, so you’d better shut up”' or 'And I think my heart stopped a little ' But really, there wasn't a whole lot of it, and it didn't do much to detract at all from the story. I really loved the shorts when she was a lot younger and it was the young crush stuff--that felt very authentic, and it was just very adorable. I especially like the repetition of the 'butterfly' feelings and all--it tied the whole thing together very well. 
|
|
|
|
| xDizzyx | Jan 8 2009, 06:40 PM Post #3 |
|
Smuggler
|
Name: Untitled. Rating: Urm, suitable for everyone on here, I'd think. Disclaimers: I took the name out, so now I own it all. Summary: Eh, read? This is actually the prologue-ish thing of a story I'm writing. But I thought it worked as a stand-alone short aswell. Think of your brain. Pun not intended. Your brain is capable of holding thousands of thoughts, memories, facts, opinions, emotions all at once. You’d think anything would explode from all the things it holds, but no, the brain stays up in your skull, controlling your body. Now, did you know that your heart beats, on average, seventy two times a minute. That’s four thousand, three hundred and twenty times an hour and one hundred and three thousand, six hundred and eighty times a day. Did you know that? Most people don’t. Most people take it for granted that their heart will keep beating; that blood will continue to race through their bodies to keep them alive. The human body is wonderfully complex. Beautiful, even. My heart doesn’t beat though. Most of my beauty has been taken from me. My heart does no beat, and I do not eat, rendering at least three of the main systems inside useless. What’s the point in outer beauty if you’re not truly alive? What kind of life could that possibly leave you to live? You’d think I would be the happiest person alive, right? It’s pretty hard for anyone to kill me, I have awesome strength and speed, I don’t need to sleep and I don’t need to eat, so if I set my mind to something, that wouldn’t slow me down. My stamina is amazing, and I’m also insanely beautiful. Perfect, you would think. And that is where you would be wrong. I’m a monster. I’m the bad guy. I’m the villain in all the comic books that the hero defeats. I’m the one people run from, the one people fear. I’ve killed people, many people. I do regret that, so I guess that’s sort of a redeeming factor. But, that doesn’t take away from the fact that I am a monster. I am the ultimate predator. I draw people in, and then there’s obviously no way they can escape me. A human could never outrun me, fight me off or call for help. Well, they could call for help, but I would destroy the help that came. I could crush a persons’ bone like anyone else would snap a twig. If I really wanted to, I could walk into my classroom and slaughter everybody in it. Which I often do want to do, but if I’ve learnt anything these past years, it’s will power. You see, I don’t want to be the bad guy. I don’t want to be the one that everyone fears. I don’t want to be a monster. I want to be able to interact with people, other than my family, without being on guard all the time. As weird as this sounds, I want to be able to feel pain. Of course I can physically feel pain, but it’s insanely hard for someone to cause me it. A human couldn’t. My family probably couldn’t, only if they all tried at the same time with full force. But they wouldn’t. And I can’t seem to be able to cause myself pain. It’s like my body knows its limits, and won’t let me pass them. It’s a very lonely existence, the life I lead. Another reason I wish I wasn’t as I was. I have five people who care about me, and would risk their lives for me, and I would obviously do the same for them, but I just wish… Like I said before, I just wish I could interact with humans, without worrying about what I was saying, what I was doing. If I lost control, just for one second, everything would be ruined. Completely ruined. I couldn’t do anything that would put my family in danger, I care for them too much, and love them all. So I keep to myself, and my family. I guess that’s just how a monster has to live. And, why, I may hear you ask, am I a monster? I’ll give you three guesses. Serial killer? Wrong. Werewolf? Definitely wrong. Vampire? And with that guess, you would be correct. I am a vampire. |
|
|
|
| « Previous Topic · Fanfiction · Next Topic » |
2:42 PM Jul 30
