Post by heyhey on Jul 5, 2002 21:09:56 GMT -5
I have no clue what to call this, and if it's any good at all...I'm not a very good critic. So I was wondering if anyone out there would be willing to read this and give me some idea of what they think....
“Please say that you remember me.”<br> I could feel his eyes seem to imprint into the back of my neck. I continued to pick up my fragile papers from the rushing water in the gutter. The never-ending rain made my short-cropped hair stick to my cheeks. I imagined that I hadn’t heard him. I had always thought that if you pretended that things didn’t happen, then they didn’t. But this time it was different, this time his words echoed around me in a globe of feeling and pain.
“Please,” he repeated. This time his fingers wrapped around my wrist in a desperate cry for an answer. I didn’t reply. I keep my gaze down, out of his eyes, because then I knew that I would have to answer if I saw his near black-green eyes. I kept my false sense of security wrapped around me like a blanket. Like a skin-tight sphere of glass. His grasp became more binding on my wrist. It almost felt like his heartbeat, his energy, was surging up my arm through his finger tips in an invisable neon light. He was different, so different then anyone I had ever met.
“Do you remember me?” his words made the surge even stronger. I knew that it was inevitable. My blanket of protection was being ripped away and shattered from the power of his emotions. He was so strong, even if he was on his knees, drenched in rain, begging for the sound of what he wanted.
“I can’t say,” I finally answered. The rest of my fears melted away with my blanket. The barrier had been broken. I slowly pulled my eyes away from the distracting and hypnotic water swirling around our feet. It was getting deeper, the road was full of water, the gutter giving away at its feeble effort to retain the flooding.
“Please,” he pleaded. His fingers slowly released their pressure. It was like he was slowly being beaten away, and he needed his own surge of energy to stay alive. But the connection between us was still there. Like we were the same person, with different faces.
“I...” I paused. His fingers were barely touching my arm now. They were trembling from the cold, and I realized that my own fingers were becoming stiff.
I slowly turned my gaze to his eyes and was instantly tranced. They were like perfect dark green stones at the bottom of a shallow creek . With the pure rain water running off of his dark black hair, now plastered against his forehead and cheeks, framing his large, radiant eyes in a circle of innocence. Angel, I mouthed.
“I know your face, but,” I said, looking beyond him to the overhang of the building. No one was out in the rain like we were. They were all gathered under the safety of the dry strip of concrete sidewalk, staring at us like we were insane to be in the freezing rain. They were frightening, dressed in black with their faces turned away. I shook the thought off.
“I know you, you have to remember me,” he asked, once again grasping my wrist and pulling me and inch or two closer to his stare. I didn’t feel threatened, his eyes were desperate for an answer, darting my own eyes for a sense of relief. His voice was trembling and the energy from his finger tips had turned to fear and hopelessness.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just met you today. I remember seeing you around the university yesterday, and here, at the convention,” I replied, pulling back. He responded by grabbing my shoulders and fiercely tightening his grip. I tried to slide back, but I lost my balance and teetered onto my knees, falling to his level. It took from my advantage and gave it to him. The rain water was starting seeping in through the denim of my jeans. I imagined that his knees were becoming numb and bruised from kneeling on the sidewalk in his black slacks.
“No, you have to remember, you have to,” he shook me, as if that would result in an answer that he would want. His grip became tighter. I didn’t understand, and his forceful need for an answer that really didn’t mean anything to me was making me feel frightened.
“Please say that you remember me.”<br> I could feel his eyes seem to imprint into the back of my neck. I continued to pick up my fragile papers from the rushing water in the gutter. The never-ending rain made my short-cropped hair stick to my cheeks. I imagined that I hadn’t heard him. I had always thought that if you pretended that things didn’t happen, then they didn’t. But this time it was different, this time his words echoed around me in a globe of feeling and pain.
“Please,” he repeated. This time his fingers wrapped around my wrist in a desperate cry for an answer. I didn’t reply. I keep my gaze down, out of his eyes, because then I knew that I would have to answer if I saw his near black-green eyes. I kept my false sense of security wrapped around me like a blanket. Like a skin-tight sphere of glass. His grasp became more binding on my wrist. It almost felt like his heartbeat, his energy, was surging up my arm through his finger tips in an invisable neon light. He was different, so different then anyone I had ever met.
“Do you remember me?” his words made the surge even stronger. I knew that it was inevitable. My blanket of protection was being ripped away and shattered from the power of his emotions. He was so strong, even if he was on his knees, drenched in rain, begging for the sound of what he wanted.
“I can’t say,” I finally answered. The rest of my fears melted away with my blanket. The barrier had been broken. I slowly pulled my eyes away from the distracting and hypnotic water swirling around our feet. It was getting deeper, the road was full of water, the gutter giving away at its feeble effort to retain the flooding.
“Please,” he pleaded. His fingers slowly released their pressure. It was like he was slowly being beaten away, and he needed his own surge of energy to stay alive. But the connection between us was still there. Like we were the same person, with different faces.
“I...” I paused. His fingers were barely touching my arm now. They were trembling from the cold, and I realized that my own fingers were becoming stiff.
I slowly turned my gaze to his eyes and was instantly tranced. They were like perfect dark green stones at the bottom of a shallow creek . With the pure rain water running off of his dark black hair, now plastered against his forehead and cheeks, framing his large, radiant eyes in a circle of innocence. Angel, I mouthed.
“I know your face, but,” I said, looking beyond him to the overhang of the building. No one was out in the rain like we were. They were all gathered under the safety of the dry strip of concrete sidewalk, staring at us like we were insane to be in the freezing rain. They were frightening, dressed in black with their faces turned away. I shook the thought off.
“I know you, you have to remember me,” he asked, once again grasping my wrist and pulling me and inch or two closer to his stare. I didn’t feel threatened, his eyes were desperate for an answer, darting my own eyes for a sense of relief. His voice was trembling and the energy from his finger tips had turned to fear and hopelessness.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just met you today. I remember seeing you around the university yesterday, and here, at the convention,” I replied, pulling back. He responded by grabbing my shoulders and fiercely tightening his grip. I tried to slide back, but I lost my balance and teetered onto my knees, falling to his level. It took from my advantage and gave it to him. The rain water was starting seeping in through the denim of my jeans. I imagined that his knees were becoming numb and bruised from kneeling on the sidewalk in his black slacks.
“No, you have to remember, you have to,” he shook me, as if that would result in an answer that he would want. His grip became tighter. I didn’t understand, and his forceful need for an answer that really didn’t mean anything to me was making me feel frightened.
)