My Dream

Think your art is better or your stick figures worse? Got a link to a site you want to share? Post it here!

Moderators: Jacque, Moderators General, Prelates

User avatar
Posts: 45
Joined: Fri Jan 25, 2008 3:35 am UTC
Location: Albuquerque, New Mexico

My Dream

Postby GMThomas » Mon Aug 04, 2008 4:15 am UTC

Okay this is the first story I've really written. I apologize for grammar and spelling errors.

Dark, brooding clouds enveloped the twinkling stars strewn across the skyline. With distant rumbles they made aware their malefic presence. Rain pattered softly on the damp wood of the house's back porch, lit solely by the light from the inside, where a lively get-together was occurring. My parents had, against my will, brought me along on this silly trip.

I decided to isolate myself from the adults, as their conversations did not interest me in the least. In addition, I was tired of my dad's introductions. "This here, in the fag-jeans, is my son." Shake hands loosely. Exchange a few token words. Stare at the ground. Mumble. The usual greeting process. However, I was now alone, in the somehow warm comfort of my solitude.

Of course, I dreaded being alone. I felt like I should be up and interacting. I ached for it. Something compelled me, though, to stay sitting there, in the shadows. A powerful force which I cannot control seized my mind and body, no matter its ambitions. "Distance yourself." it spoke in fiery whispers. I listened.

Maybe, if there was somebody my age here, preferably of the other gender. It would be a compelling argument to not isolate myself. However, I knew that it would in fact make me want to isolate myself further - maybe to give a subtle appearance of loneliness, depression, and other factors in which I believed would compel interaction to begin, albeit on her terms. I don't know why I wanted this. I decided it was most likely attention - I wanted attention. I wanted her to take make away from the loneliness that haunted me every second from my life. I knew she could.

But behold - I was already alerted to the presence of one of these cherished specimens. My dad, in all his pro-me-talking-to-as-many-girls-as-possible glory, told me of one "Lilith" who would be attending this boredom-causing event. I had my eyes open, yet ready to be averted, for her.

The room lit up brightly for a few scant milliseconds as lightning crackled outside.

And then I spotted her. Guiding her way through the crowd like a boat on the sea, she seemed enthralled and energized by the social activity sparking around her. All coherent thoughts in my head scattered into misty chaos, like a wave against a rock. I quickly spun my head around, already burning with embarrassment, to face one of the smooth beige walls. I pretended I was quite interested in the pictures on the wall, scanning my eyes from each one to the next. My mind flared with silly, grade-school thoughts. I hope she came over to the loner on the couch. I quickly made myself look as depressed as possible, as if silently crying out for help. In a sense I was, although the way I pursued it lacked in fidelity. I slowly turned my head towards the crowd.

She smiled as she talked to my parents. I knew what my dad would say. "Have you seen my son in the fag-jeans? You should go over and talk to him." I was somehow dreading him saying that. Although clad in black, as I was, she stood out of the crowd like a diamond amongst mud. Her hair was dyed black and pink, but not in an intense, shocking way. It seemed almost natural - like it was in harmony with her emotions. Her hair was short, barely down to her shoulders, and covered a pale face. She was stunning. Although many people would not describe her as "hot," due to her lack of tanning and seven thousand pounds of make-up, I enjoyed this fact. I hated tans. I hated unattractive women who hid behind their blonde hair, expensive clothes, make-up, and harlotry to be "hot." Lilith was the real deal. A small amount of black eyeliner brought out her mysterious, knowledgeable green eyes. Her clothes were dark, and grungy, but simple and socially-acceptable.

Immediately my insides felt like they had been doused in menthol. A cool, tingly, but panicky feeling spread over my body. I was now scared. I was not worthy of being in her presence.

My dad had said the magic words. With a pointing of a finger, and the collective shifting of the eyes in my direction, I knew the deed had been done, and my doom was upon me. I tensed up physically and mentally. Beads of sweat collected on my hairline. This couldn't be write. It's just a silly girl. What was I so afraid of? As she approached, my train of thought left the dread tracks and switched over to the inadequacy tracks. I was ugly. I was no fun. She wouldn't like me. I drew into myself, looking out my eyes through a periscope. She sat down next to me. My skin tingled.

She opened her lips to speak, and uttered a greeting that echoed through my now cavernous body. I said "hello" in response, almost trembling. She smiled and looked into my eyes. Then she looked further. She looked down into where I was hiding. Did I want this? And then with ethereal limbs, she pulled me up off the floor of my consciousness and firmly onto my feet. I exhaled deeply.

Lightning again. I glanced at the rain-splattered window. Distant laughter and banter from the kitchen echoed into the room. I, however, was focused on my task. I knew what not to do. In the past I had decided that if I could get them to feel sorry enough for me, they would like me. I realized how stupid and immature I was. I spoke to her candidly, with no facades or garnishments on my words. She smiled again, lifting me off the ground.

We talked about the rain. We loved it. The darkness, the quiet solitude that drops of water falling from the sky brought to the world. We made a pact to continue our discussion, my apostasy, outside. In the dark, cold rain we continued. She became aware of my pilgrimage to social clarity. She saw into the dark alleyways of my mind. I hoped she would defeat the evil beings that infested themselves throughout them. And she did. With pure light she burned the torturous beats, lifting the shadows out of the huge crevasses and scars in my mental landscape. And then I came to the realization that I had my arms around her, above her waste, pulling her into me. She had stopped talking. I did not even remember performing such an ambitious feat. Every breath I felt her take caused my entire being to become a little warmer. She rested her head on mine. And the same force which had spoken such soul-destroying words to me had suddenly become a beneficial entity - in a warm whisper it commanded me once again.

I leaned my head back off of hers. I looked at her again. I looked into her eyes - a feat I rarely accomplish. I looked past them, trying to sense what was inside. She did the same thing in unison. She smiled at me, eradicating all doubt, hopelessness, and darkness from inside of me. She closed her eyes as I closed mine, and we leaned into each other, our lips meeting in a gentle kiss, a conduit for two different but magical things to intertwine.

Lighting flashed in the distance. The rain pattered against our bodies.

Return to “Your art and links”

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 7 guests