LOVE LOST FICTION
by Queenie
Chapter One
Slow Hands
They were standing behind the mall. Phill handed John the cigarette, shuffling his feet.
"I think it is going to happen tonight," Phil said, head bent, muttering to the ground.
"Yeah, buddy?" John asked, slowly.
Phill looked up at the steel grey November sky, before he replied.
"She just smells so great."
John shoved him in the arm, a short chuckle.
"Buddy, you are weird," he smiled.
Chapter Two
Every Hour, On The Hour
Miranda sat in the bathroom, her head against the bathroom door, sometimes cool on her forehead. She could not take another day. She did not know what to do.
Eighteen days and counting.
She could feel it rising again, deep inside of her, feel the burn as it made it's way up.
She reached the toilet just in time.
And she was quiet while she vomited.
She grabbed Phill before homeroom, pulling him outside the big green doors of the high school.
They skipped school and sat in the woods.
They both said 'I love you'.
And he did.
Chapter Three
Ticking
The walls were lined with green tile, but the room was warm. Miranda could feel the patch of sweat forming on her back, dampening the gown they had made her wear.
She looked down at her feet noticing the toenails needed to be painted, the light purple flaked mostly off.
She thought of the paper she had to finish off for English class.
She thought of the chicken and potatoes her mother had made for supper.
She thought of the money she had saved in her piggy bank at home.
She thought of anything else she could while she got herself dressed and walked outside into the deep, damp, dark night.
The doctor had said she was pregnant.
Chapter Four
This Time
She walked, towards the darkness and away from the lights, the safety of her city.
She walked and rubbed her stomach and could smell the rain coming in the air. Felt it clinging to her skin already.
She walked, her head swimming. Not real thoughts forming, just bits and pieces. Frustration made her want to cry, but there was not time for that ever again, she knew. It was a price she would pay.
She turned, looking behind her seeing the headlights coming towards and she stuck out her thumb.
And the green car pulled over.
He was old, with long hair and a black t-shirt. She could smell the must when he rolled down the window.
"Need a ride, honey," he said, but with kindness. "Where are you heading?"
She looked at him and the package of cigarettes up on his dashboard.
She thought of her parents, warm in their bed.
She thought of the boy, playing video games, waiting for her phone call.
She thought of things she could not conceive, she could barely glean.
"Where ever you are going," she finally said.
by Queenie
Chapter One
Slow Hands
They were standing behind the mall. Phill handed John the cigarette, shuffling his feet.
"I think it is going to happen tonight," Phil said, head bent, muttering to the ground.
"Yeah, buddy?" John asked, slowly.
Phill looked up at the steel grey November sky, before he replied.
"She just smells so great."
John shoved him in the arm, a short chuckle.
"Buddy, you are weird," he smiled.
Chapter Two
Every Hour, On The Hour
Miranda sat in the bathroom, her head against the bathroom door, sometimes cool on her forehead. She could not take another day. She did not know what to do.
Eighteen days and counting.
She could feel it rising again, deep inside of her, feel the burn as it made it's way up.
She reached the toilet just in time.
And she was quiet while she vomited.
She grabbed Phill before homeroom, pulling him outside the big green doors of the high school.
They skipped school and sat in the woods.
They both said 'I love you'.
And he did.
Chapter Three
Ticking
The walls were lined with green tile, but the room was warm. Miranda could feel the patch of sweat forming on her back, dampening the gown they had made her wear.
She looked down at her feet noticing the toenails needed to be painted, the light purple flaked mostly off.
She thought of the paper she had to finish off for English class.
She thought of the chicken and potatoes her mother had made for supper.
She thought of the money she had saved in her piggy bank at home.
She thought of anything else she could while she got herself dressed and walked outside into the deep, damp, dark night.
The doctor had said she was pregnant.
Chapter Four
This Time
She walked, towards the darkness and away from the lights, the safety of her city.
She walked and rubbed her stomach and could smell the rain coming in the air. Felt it clinging to her skin already.
She walked, her head swimming. Not real thoughts forming, just bits and pieces. Frustration made her want to cry, but there was not time for that ever again, she knew. It was a price she would pay.
She turned, looking behind her seeing the headlights coming towards and she stuck out her thumb.
And the green car pulled over.
He was old, with long hair and a black t-shirt. She could smell the must when he rolled down the window.
"Need a ride, honey," he said, but with kindness. "Where are you heading?"
She looked at him and the package of cigarettes up on his dashboard.
She thought of her parents, warm in their bed.
She thought of the boy, playing video games, waiting for her phone call.
She thought of things she could not conceive, she could barely glean.
"Where ever you are going," she finally said.
Comments
How exactly did you find me, for, as in the words of Morrissey 'I keep mine hidden'.
You may not find another 0-letter on the site. I truly cannot live up to the best O-letter ever published, that being, De Profundis by Oscar Wilde. You can pick it up for a dollar as a Penguin Classic. I recommend it.
Welcome to my litte black and white world. You may be the first to know.
Q
(next blog)