Post by fallingwithgrace on Feb 13, 2007 0:19:47 GMT -5
Teddy :]
well kinda...
Falling
His feet shuffle under the crumpled fallen leaves on the ground. He steps on one of the leaves and it crackles under his scuffed Converse—the one with the frayed grey laces. He nearly trips right then, but he catches himself. He continues, pulling his hooded zip-up sweater closer to his body.
His head is spinning, he stumbles over his legs, but in a dizzy dance in tone with nature, he manages to find his balance. And so he continues.
He vaguely wonder why the park's so full of leaves, why he can't see the pavement under him, and then he laughs a little, because he hasn't realized how much time has passed. He think he's gone insane. But honestly that would a relief.
He drifts aimlessly along the ground and then he sees her. She's standing by a tree, looking out at the lake which has just begun to freeze around the edges. He walks up to her and presses his hands over her eyes. She doesn't flinch, but just stands, and he knows she's terrified. She's always been different in that way. Most people laugh it off, but she's afraid of what she can't see and doesn't know. Her heart races under his palms and her breathing is rapid.
"What do you want?" Her voice shakes.
"Why'd you leave?" There's no accusation in his voice, just curiosity to know the answer. Because he loved her, and she just left.
She pulls away from him now and sets off at a run, her feet scattering the fallen leaves. It's only when he's been following her for half a mile does he realize she doesn't have any shoes on. He wonders if the leaves scratch at her feet, but he's helpless to save her as he has been for the last few weeks. He knew something was wrong, but he was too cowardly to admit it.
He jumps and pushes her to the ground. She falls silently to the ground without even making a sound. She presses her face against the dirt and as he touches her face, his fingers are wet. Then he knows she's crying.
"Why'd you leave?" he asks her again.
She twists herself out of his grasp and keeps walking. He sees her wipe her arm across her eyes and for some reason cannot tear my eyes off her the back of her sweater. It's teal colored.
He remembers when she first bought it they had a play fight. "Green," he'd said. "Teal," she fought back. She'd slapped him lightly, making him smile. They'd been at the park. He'd put a leaf in her hair and said that she was his princess. His best friend. Now it seems so petty and immature compared to what is happening.
He follows her to the edge of the lake.
"Why'd you leave?"
The question hangs in the air. Something forbidden, but something that needs to be answered.
"I didn't want to drag you into the problems of my own life." She states this flatly, and then turns to look at him, her eyes wide and reluctant.
He runs his hands through his hair and reminds myself that he's a boy. And boys can't cry in front of girls.
But a tear escapes. Maybe he's not a man after all.
"You want to come back?" he asks her.
She bites her lip, tears flooding her eyes, and then shakes her head.
"Why not?" he demands.
She tenses and starts to walk away. He grabs her hand and pull her towards him.
With anxiety in her eyes, she pulls a pen out of her pocket and reaches down to his left shoe, his Converse, his Chuck Taylors. It's a cheap pen, maybe one that could be bought from Rite Aid for five cents. But the messages it spells out mean so much. On the scratchy white tip of the shoe that's starting to peal off, she writes what she cannot say.
Tears catch in his throat and he takes the pen from her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. He uses a finger to wipe away a tear that's just started to escape from her eye.
He reads the words and pulls her close to him. He opens his arms and catches her, whispering comforts in her ear. He takes her hand and they start the walk home.
Once again she repeats the words that she wrote on his shoe. She needs an answer and only he can finish the question. She moves closer to him, pressing her body against his.
She whispers, "I'm afraid of falling."
He smiles, "I have wings."
well kinda...
Falling
His feet shuffle under the crumpled fallen leaves on the ground. He steps on one of the leaves and it crackles under his scuffed Converse—the one with the frayed grey laces. He nearly trips right then, but he catches himself. He continues, pulling his hooded zip-up sweater closer to his body.
His head is spinning, he stumbles over his legs, but in a dizzy dance in tone with nature, he manages to find his balance. And so he continues.
He vaguely wonder why the park's so full of leaves, why he can't see the pavement under him, and then he laughs a little, because he hasn't realized how much time has passed. He think he's gone insane. But honestly that would a relief.
He drifts aimlessly along the ground and then he sees her. She's standing by a tree, looking out at the lake which has just begun to freeze around the edges. He walks up to her and presses his hands over her eyes. She doesn't flinch, but just stands, and he knows she's terrified. She's always been different in that way. Most people laugh it off, but she's afraid of what she can't see and doesn't know. Her heart races under his palms and her breathing is rapid.
"What do you want?" Her voice shakes.
"Why'd you leave?" There's no accusation in his voice, just curiosity to know the answer. Because he loved her, and she just left.
She pulls away from him now and sets off at a run, her feet scattering the fallen leaves. It's only when he's been following her for half a mile does he realize she doesn't have any shoes on. He wonders if the leaves scratch at her feet, but he's helpless to save her as he has been for the last few weeks. He knew something was wrong, but he was too cowardly to admit it.
He jumps and pushes her to the ground. She falls silently to the ground without even making a sound. She presses her face against the dirt and as he touches her face, his fingers are wet. Then he knows she's crying.
"Why'd you leave?" he asks her again.
She twists herself out of his grasp and keeps walking. He sees her wipe her arm across her eyes and for some reason cannot tear my eyes off her the back of her sweater. It's teal colored.
He remembers when she first bought it they had a play fight. "Green," he'd said. "Teal," she fought back. She'd slapped him lightly, making him smile. They'd been at the park. He'd put a leaf in her hair and said that she was his princess. His best friend. Now it seems so petty and immature compared to what is happening.
He follows her to the edge of the lake.
"Why'd you leave?"
The question hangs in the air. Something forbidden, but something that needs to be answered.
"I didn't want to drag you into the problems of my own life." She states this flatly, and then turns to look at him, her eyes wide and reluctant.
He runs his hands through his hair and reminds myself that he's a boy. And boys can't cry in front of girls.
But a tear escapes. Maybe he's not a man after all.
"You want to come back?" he asks her.
She bites her lip, tears flooding her eyes, and then shakes her head.
"Why not?" he demands.
She tenses and starts to walk away. He grabs her hand and pull her towards him.
With anxiety in her eyes, she pulls a pen out of her pocket and reaches down to his left shoe, his Converse, his Chuck Taylors. It's a cheap pen, maybe one that could be bought from Rite Aid for five cents. But the messages it spells out mean so much. On the scratchy white tip of the shoe that's starting to peal off, she writes what she cannot say.
Tears catch in his throat and he takes the pen from her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. He uses a finger to wipe away a tear that's just started to escape from her eye.
He reads the words and pulls her close to him. He opens his arms and catches her, whispering comforts in her ear. He takes her hand and they start the walk home.
Once again she repeats the words that she wrote on his shoe. She needs an answer and only he can finish the question. She moves closer to him, pressing her body against his.
She whispers, "I'm afraid of falling."
He smiles, "I have wings."
