Recoil

A story about a young girl and her lost love...

Quietly; I nudge the ornate bronze gate open with my toe, clutching a bouquet of flowers tightly to my chest. I breathe in the soft sent of the daisies. The aroma sparks long forgotten memories causing them to dash to the front of my mind. It’s a chain reaction, setting off more and more as the memories are drawn to the light.

“The fireworks seem so alive.”

A tear rolls down my cheek, sparkling in the sun light like a liquefied diamond. I wipe it away with my blemished fingers, taking in a quick, sharp breath as I do so. I hold my index finger out to the sun light, while dust particles dance around it. The water magnifies an already large scar on my finger. I take in another breath; just this one is longer, gasping.

“Don’t forget to breathe.”

I walk slowly past an iron bench, spiral detailing on its edges. I smile at this and try to picture him sitting there, a book placed in his lap as he listens to me sing to him… but the image comes out fuzzy, disorientated, as if it wishes not to be seen in my mind’s eye. The sun is high in the sky and I watch it, seeking comfort in its bright glow. None comes.

“There is always a reason.”

My foot sinks into the soft ground as I reach a narrow stream. I follow it, the serene sound of gently flowing of water floating to my ears. A shadow is cast by a large tree, moulding darkness around me momentarily. I break into the sun once more, relief consuming me and I soon reach a shallow pond.

“Never under estimate your opponent.”

I drop to my knees, an overwhelming feeling of dread and sorrow engulfing me. An ear piercing scream springs from my lungs. It’s as if the emotional pain follows the long cry of mourning, out of my system and into the open air where it can fly freely scouting for its next victim. An evil parasite.

“Try to fight it.”

The flowers roll out of my hand as I weaken my grasp. They tumble down the gentle slope, falling into the water with a resonating splash. He was buried here. Under the pond; beneath the gravel and the earth. He had been lost in deeper misery than any imagined. It was his only way out. The only escape.

“You recoil from my love."

Author's Note

To any of you who haven't already picked up on it - not that it's obvious or anything - but the sentences in speech marks and italics are things that 'he' told 'her' when he was alive. I hope you enjoyed it and please comment below about what you liked, think should be improved. Please note that I have to get a portfolio ready to get into a high school for the arts and I want everything to be really top notch. But any feed back would be appreciated, but the harsher the better. :P

Reviews

[GT939417]

With the things that 'he' told 'her', maybe add something about her remembering his voice, it would make it a little more haunting and heart-wrenching, if that's what you're going for.
Very well done!

[Josh Arcelo]

I read the poem that was loosely based off this first so I was kind of expecting more out of this one. it seems too short, not that that's a bad thing. maybe a little bit more to capture the reader. still very good compared to other writers, just dishing out the constructive criticism :)

[The White Wolf]

Oooooooh, Recoil.....now I get it :) I am sorry, I feel like total dork now!
This was truly, truly, great. I don't placate..I speak truth. I really loved this. You have some serious talent. This is one hell of a good write!