Soft

Soft

A Story by diaphanous
"

A short glimpse

"

The grass felt like fur.

I ran my hands through it, stroking the silky strands as my brother rambled on.

Everything sounded slightly muted, like when you plunge your head underwater and float for a moment. I couldn’t focus on a single movement either. All I wanted was to feel the grass and forget. But he wouldn’t let me.

“Can you look at me?” Dan, my brother pleaded. He hated sitting still or silence. I lolled my head in his direction.

            “What?”

            “I want to go home, can we please just go home?” Dan looked scared now. I registered that I probably should take him home but found it difficult to care or even dwell on that thought. He was too young to be here. I only brought him so he wouldn’t rat on me. He knew I came to the Hollow sometimes with my friends and begged me to go. Now of course he bit off more than he could chew, literally, and needed me to bail me out. I hated being the older brother. Having to constantly be an example for him. In my house I wasn’t just myself. I was Dan’s. Dan’s idol, Dan’s guide, Dan’s protector. I think it was his blonde curly hair and dimples. At 14 he still looked angelic, and more like my mom than I did, so she babied him.

“Caleb, please.” He whisper-begged again, quieter this time hoping my friends wouldn’t hear.

“Dan, just shut up and watch the fire. We’ll go home soon.” I breathed softly.

He pulled his knobby knees to his chest and looked at the small fire pit we’d dug ages ago when we found this place. The Hollow. The Hollow was a collection of petrified trees in an almost perfect ring, that were so large, and so thick, that they created an isolated oasis in their crappy town’s forest. My friends and I came here every weekend. There was nothing else to do. I liked the quiet, not that quiet was hard to find in Western Massachusetts. The blonde hairs on my arms raised at a sudden breeze, despite the unusual warmth of the night. I felt my focus come back slightly, and I gazed at the sad collection of losers in front of me. They were my friends. But I knew they were losers. Not even out of high school yet and already wasting all their hours and money on heroin. I preferred purer escapes than they did. My gaze shifted to the one person besides Dan and myself who had abstained tonight and chosen a different method. She was so fragile looking, I felt the urge to look away from her sometimes, afraid my gaze might shatter her. Thin and wispy, her long dark brown hair fell in a waterfall down her naked back. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair and see if it was just as silky as the grass I was laying on.

Dan’s breathing was getting faster and sweat beads gathered in the creases of his forehead.

I slowly inched my way away from him, to get closer to Willow. I wanted to breath her in.

She smiled at my approach, revealing a slight gap in her two front teeth. I reached out my hand and she didn’t move forward but she didn’t move back either. The air in front of her vibrated and I shivered as my hand vibrated too. Finally, I managed to make contact with her bare shoulder. She shuddered at the movement and I felt the tremor run through her and then through me. She relented, and melted into me at last.

“Stop it!” Dan shrieked, rolling on the ground violently.

“I can’t stop feeling everything and nothing!” He sat up and thrust his hand on one of the burning sticks in the fire. He screamed again and pulled away.


“I’m dying!” He bellowed, as everyone in the circle, including myself, watched in amusement.

© 2017 diaphanous


My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Reviews

Spooky, surreal and slightly sad, but compelling reading. Drugs rarely solve anyone's problems.

Posted 7 Years Ago



Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

292 Views
1 Review
Added on May 31, 2017
Last Updated on May 31, 2017

Author

diaphanous
diaphanous

San Francisco, CA



About
My name is Talia. I've always loved writing, and writing is my greatest passion. My greatest fear and motivation is that in reality, it shouldn't be. more..

Writing
Ghost Ghost

A Poem by diaphanous


Choices Choices

A Poem by diaphanous


Blame Blame

A Story by diaphanous