Want

little story

She lived. She breathed. She sang. She wore her days like an old sweater. She talked, and listened, and ate, and she worked, and she slept. She saw, and she heard, and she dreamed.
            She had an uncanny ability to sense what someone wanted. Whether it was warm weather, or a person, or laughter, she always seemed to know before any truths were spoken. She knew that her mom wanted a different home. She knew her dad wanted more patience. She knew her brother wanted her to pay more attention to him. She knew her neighbor across the street wanted something that he had lost, and that is why he was always alone.
            She also knew what she wanted. Although she couldn’t quite give this thing a name, she knew the feeling of it. She could tell when she got goose bumps that she needed it. When she got shivers, she really needed it. Most of the time, she just felt an empty want for this thing she couldn’t give a name.
            She lived. She ran. She drew. She carried her days with this want nagging at her, like a hungry dog waiting to be fed, or like a child waiting to be given the go-ahead. As days continued on, she felt it more and more. She got those goose bumps whenever she looked out the window and saw the light on across the street. She got shivers whenever her mother turned out the lamp.
            She felt she was getting closer. Every day was just another spent breathing, and getting closer. Peeling an apple, she was getting closer. Holding the door, she was getting closer. She once dreamed that she was the minute hand on a clock, her head pointing towards the roman numerals. She felt it most when she was with her family (*with* being the key word, for they were always immersed in their individual activities).
            Then she had a very strange day. No matter what she did, it was never enough. The muscles in her hand cramped because she had written too many words, but they weren’t enough. She drank multiple glasses of water, but couldn’t quench her thirst. She stuffed her body full, but was still hungry. This dissatisfaction was foreign to her. She went running outside and ran as far from her house as she could. She thought it might be playing tricks on her.
            Her feet took her exactly where she needed to go. Her hair flying back and her shoes crunching the gravel, they took her in the direction she needed to go, of the want she felt. She didn’t realize this at the time. Her feet carried her and glided her and shifted her and flew her and then she landed, like a bird on ice. She was frozen, still, unmoving.
            The feeling of getting closer was now burning inside her. She felt that every blink was a spark dancing off her eyelids. She was captivated. She opened herself up to this more and more until she was nearing rupture. She had to know what this was. She threw her knees on the ground and jerked her head up towards the sky. “Show me what this is!” she screamed to the empty blue. “I need to know! Show me, please!” The blank sky answered her.
            She felt every nerve impulse jump, every muscle contract, every hair stand, and her blood rush through her. With her face still pointed toward the sky, she let it wash over her. She let it drown her, shred her, and lose her. She was on fire. The silence disappeared into a mass of noise she couldn’t see, a ferocious jumbled mass. She felt a moment of pure satisfaction as every piece of curiosity she had came together and presented itself to her.  She felt every emotion there was to feel. Her head swirled as her heart cried and her soul laughed and her body crumpled to the ground. Her eyes sparked once more, and she was gone.

Author's Note

This is the first polished story I've ever written, i just kinda wrote it. i wanna know what you think!!!
Also, i got the idea for this story while listening to Noah and the Whale's 'First Days of Spring' but this isn't related to the song's lyrics. At the end of the song, when everything explodes, that's kinda what i tried to describe. blah blah. :)

Reviews

[David Lewis Paget]

This is excellent! I don't usually review stories, but I must admit your compelling style and immediacy dragged me kicking and screaming through to the end. If this is an example of what you can do at High School level, I can predict a remarkable writing future for you.
I thought you perhaps lost a little concentration towards the end.

'She felt a moment of pure satisfaction as every piece of curiosity she had come (came) together and present(ed) itself to her.

[Cherrie Palmer]

It is a simple story of awareness and discovery, the journey of life, and surrender to the great unknown. Very beautiful, it compels the read to search along with her.

[Eagle Cruagh]

She wore her days like an old sweater.
I wonder if you could get that line copyrited ?
It is too good to lose. I love it .
---- John

[allie_arrowz]

haha i don't know :)

[BLBrown]

Well, you pulled me in and I couldn't stop until I was finished. You do a great job for someone your age. I agree with some of the reviews, that the end needs more work. I was left a bit deflated. Did she die? If so, why and how and by whose hand. The end needs to be the revelation, where the readers says, "ahhhh."

I will take the liberty here of pointing one of my short stories to you that has the kind of ending I'm writing about. Up to you if you want to look at it. It's called, "The Waiting Room."

http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/bbrown/957704/

Keep writing! Great job.

[Twinkle]

Great job on the picturesque verbs, very strong. The last two paragraphs were very vivid.

[Chris]

We find our inspiration AS we find it and wherever we may be. A fair effort and thought out piece.

[Alex Fegley (Extro Zife..]

Wow, this is really great. The imagery as she shouts to the sky really got to me. Well done!

[Penlady]

You HAVE described with marvelous vision the IMPLOSION a being, as if everything
had come its full distance had its maximum use, therefore, was no longer needed. A great mystery story you've written, with each line escalating the readers interest
until the very finality of the last few words! "Her eyes sparked once more, and she was gone," kind of gave me a sadness because to me, the spark in her eye was the effort to continue on but you as the writer, made her disappear.
You are a marvelous writer and I am so glad you contacted me to read your work.
I think you have a very special talent because you look passed the normal and write about what could be! Bravo!
I will become your friend so I can keep up with your work!
Thanks again!
Barb

[Marie]

Very good description of someone needing to fill needs and not knowing how. Nice story.

[Mark Best]

I think its very poetic and very catchy. It reads easy and the language flows. You didn't make most of the mistakes that people make with their first stories and that leads me to think this isn't your first, but rather only the first you've chosen to share. Her "want" of everything, the devouring emotion she feels, described beautifully and I evny you for being able to put such feeling in to works. Most of us are like cavemen pounding on keyboards creating base words, while the words of you story seem to blossom and dance like the wings of a butterfly.