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.

[DeliriousCerises]

You have such a pretty way of writing. The way you describe action and emotion, just description in general is very poetic and pretty. You describe things in a unique way too, with unique words and unique images. like "every blink was a spark dancing off her eyelids" I get caught up in your words, the way you present each sentence. The story itself is an interesting concept, about want. Knowing want, having want, wanting what you don't know. You're very creative.

[An owl on the moon]

So, first I listened again to The First Days of Spring to feel it... Brilliant take... And your words felt so poignant and personal, as if you were speaking of watching your reflection alive in the mirror.. both gazing and feeling at the same time... a time that lived like a character in your moving story, flowing faster with each line... until the last words took my breath away. Powerful.

[Devons]

A fascinatingly effervescent and mysterious piece, which is extremely readable, and flows like a rush - which fits the theme of the thing perfectly. The sense of feeling there was something more to come emphasises the expression of the emotion the writing conveys. The gathering pace building up to a release and kind of realisation or completion is done very well - there is an almost orgasmic conclusion in a way...

Well written.

[Kyle]

One thing seems to be missing.....what is her name? For some reason giving her a name here seems to be needed (in my opinion.)

But i like the way you write. This held my attention as I read it twice. You do a great job of filling in the blanks and making her sounds interesting....

[Sujash I. Purna]

there is a floating passage that leads the reader to the end and all on a sudden the reader realises it's all gone("and she was gone") but the wee little time the reader remained in the passage(for it's something very short in its length) is enough for the reader to switch on to other pages in the browser with a lasting influence in the mind....

Kudos new-comer!

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Your writing is quite impressive, and even more so when I discover that you are in high school! Your story moved along so well and kept me reading and interested - I wanted to know what "it" was. I must say that the ending left me disappointed but, perhaps, I missed your meaning. If it was death she longed for I can understand to some extent, but it would be more fulfilling if she found something to give her life meaning... even if she only discovered that there was hope that she would find what she longed. Just my thoughts - keep writing! You have a world of talent.

[BBlade]

So, let me say something first. There are many kinds of short stories. Yours is different from what I'm used to writing. But everyone has their own style. And, I must say, your style of writing is very beautiful. I do think your word choice and sentence structure in some places could be better. But those repeating phrases- -She lived. She breated. She etc.- -were excellent. I also liked your use of internal rhyme.

But this is what I'm talking about with better word choice:

"She was captivated. She opened herself up to this more and more until she was nearing rupture."

These two sentences could be neatly sewn together into one nice package:

"Captivated, she opened herself up to this more and more until she was nearing rupture."

Or,

"Captivated, she opened up more and more until she near-ruptured."

As I've said before, you're writing is beautiful. Take or leave my advice as you will. I'm only trying to help. :)

I definitely think you've got a future in writing.

Cheers,
Blaine Blade

[EMF]

Well, firstly, I had to go back and see just what your profile said. To think a young person can write this well, and with such confidence is wonderful. But praise is all well and nice, but is it good? It is superb. You have structured a flow for your character that lets us know each more about her with heach line, let alone paragraph. You build it careful and with such seeming detail... yet you actually provide very little detail. You allow the reader to provide those themselves. That is a great skill.Yeah... There are a few words I'd have used differently here or there, perhaps a turn of phrase, but that comes down soley to writing style.
It did seem to become a little too vauge nearer the end. Perhaps a little attention to the last three paragraphs might help. Possibly a litle expansion. But, that's just a veiwpoint. Not authority.
On a site that is dominated by poets, it may take time for this writing to become noticed. All I can suggest is that you post more and keep plugging away. You certainly have great skill and should not be allowed to rest.
In short...Wonderful

[Coyote Poetry]

The story is amazing. I like the flow of thoughts and questions. You brought the reader in with vision of people desires and the thirst of understanding of the main character. I was surprised by the ending. Thank you for the outstanding story.
Coyote