3 years 4 months and 21 daysA Story by Shelby EverleighI found this concept in my ideas library on my computer. Thought I'd try and write it down.Hot. I
remember it being hot, which I should have expected considering it was the
middle of June. The sun beating down caused my back to drip
with sweat, which was only made worse by the bag gracing it. The only thought
running through my mind was a cold shower. Evidently,
I was distracted when she was talking, working out this harsh reality we live
in through a field of words as she always did after a long day. Talking was her
way to walk on the water that is the reality she lived, it was her way to
survive every day. Everyone has their survival mechanism, the thing that
prevents them from completely breaking down and crumbling under the pressure of
life. Unfortunately, hers meant she was constantly judged; for speaking too
quietly and not enough, a result of years of scrutiny for her mannerism of speech
and vocabulary which meant most of what she said past over her peers head, and
when she did speak for doing so too quickly and taking a lengthy period of time
to congregate a sentence in a way she felt befitting. She was constantly
judged, all of us are. She would often grow small, curling up in a corner as to
take up the least amount of space possible, especially anytime someone made a
comment on anything that could be interpreted as wrong with her. But I loved
the way she could use words to fix the world or destroy it. Wreck everything
with a single sentence. Tear it down. Build a whole new world in its place. A whole new universe. I could listen to her for hours, though at times I didn’t
completely understand what she was saying. Recently tough, flowers haven’t been
growing in place of the weeds. The ocean has been covering everything and no
continental plants can grow. She could build an entire world so perfectly you
could almost see it, in little more than a single sentence. Lately though, everything
just gets torn down with nothing better built in its place. My mind
wondered back to her, the small figure standing in front of me had gone silent.
I smiled at her. “Goodbye,
Eliot” she said returning my smile with one of her own; a bittersweet rapidly dissipating
smile. I never asked why. I should have. She kissed
my cheek, this coming from the girl who never got within 50 centimeters of
anyone, declaring a personal atmosphere uninhabitable to anyone but her that
followed her around. I should have known something was up. She walked
away so I turned to walk inside and take that cold shower I was daydreaming
about. Suddenly I thought I heard something. “I’m sorry” that’s what she had
said, I knew it was. I was desperate to know what for. Rapidly turning to
follow her, stop her, and ask. She was gone. I reasoned
that I had imagined it. Perhaps a heat induced hallucination? The next morning, I got a call. It was her mother. “Is she with you?” she sounded so desperate, “I thought she was home” there was a clicking noise and the call had ended. It has been 3 years, 4 months, and 21 days since anyone last saw her, no one knows what happened. I think I might. I should have listened that day. I should have asked her to stay. © 2019 Shelby EverleighAuthor's Note
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Added on December 10, 2018 Last Updated on June 23, 2019 AuthorShelby EverleighAboutbest people are a little bit crazy. well I'm insane as good or bad as that may be. maybe people aren't insane until they are exposed to insanity. maybe insanity is a place and not a permanent state o.. more..Writing
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