Layne
16-04-2006, 18:47
Hey guys moi again!
Urm i wrote this last night whilst bored at my grans, anyway its a one parter but it has two parts, And its a bit weird but i hope you like!
She looked up and stared into the mirror. She stared into it longingly. Longing to see the confident, sassy woman she once was, but she wasn’t there. There was no point in looking, there was no point in searching, and she would never be able to find the person that once, looked back at her. She still sat and stared though, sat and stared into and empty, lifeless face, stared into nothingness. Stared as if deep in thought or as if under a spell, but she wasn’t deep in thought and she certainly wasn’t under a spell, she was simply staring. She blinked, but nothing changed everything stayed just how it was moments ago. Blinking didn’t help, it was just a moment, a mere moment in which her eyes briefly closed and all the emptiness and nothingness was gone, but then her eyes opened again and that mere moment was gone.
She picked up the bright red lipstick, which lay before her, and she painted her lips with it. A sheet of colour washed over them. Her face now brighter, more alive. Although the emptiness, was still there. And event though her lips were bright and beautiful her eyes still lacked that special twinkle they once had. That special twinkle had died though, it had died along with that spark she used to have, and all sense of excitement, passion and love, dead and gone.
She was nothing.
She had nothing.
Nothing to live for.
No one to live for, not anymore.
She reached over to her bed; she slowly lifted up her pillow to reveal the object she had hidden, kept secret. She picked it up carefully, by the handle of course, and held it in front of her. The silver blade, in a way also acted like a mirror, she turned it slowly and as she did she caught the light on the tip of the blade, it was reflected all around the small, cold room. She then looked closer into the blade, but she still saw no twinkle. She then looked ahead, back into the mirror, which sat before her; she took one last gaze, and then slowly but surely ran the smooth silver blade across her bare wrist.
***
He stepped out of his house and looked around. A fresh, crisp, February morning.
He closed his gate behind him and then walked through the square gardens. Considering it was still reasonably early there was a lot of noise being made, and even though it was a bit cold, it was a beautiful day.
He walked past a few market traders and exchanged morning greetings with them. People were surprised to see him so cheerful, but he couldn’t help it, today was going to be a great day.
He quickly checked his jacket pocket, the small velvet box was still there, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
He stopped outside the Minute Mart, Patrick was just putting out the board with today’s news on, it read; ‘Murderer takes own life’
Well that is something that might have put your mood down, but not today.
He walked into the shop, picked up a newspaper and bottle of water and walked over to the till.
“Won’t be a minute.” Yolande shouted from the back.
While waiting he unfolded the newspaper to reveal the front page, and there was that headline again; ‘Murderer takes own life’.
His eyes skimmed down the page, down to the picture that was with the article.
No, he thought, no it couldn’t be. He went back over to the newspaper stand and picked up another copy, but it had the same picture on, he eyes skimmed over the caption underneath it ‘The Queen Victoria, Walford’.
He eyes made there way back up to the top of the article he started to read it, his eyes welling up. It can’t be, he thought.
‘Christine Watts, was found dead yesterday in her cell on March View at Walford Prison, she had somehow managed to steal a knife from the kitchen, and she slit her wrists. By the time she was found by her cell mate, she had lost to much blood and it was to late for anyone to do anything’
Tears started pouring out of his eyes. No, no she couldn’t of done, she can’t be, she can’t be dead, Yolande was now serving customers at the till and more people had started pouring into the shop, probably to read the news, but he stood still and he continued to read the article;
‘Christine Watts was imprisoned for the murder of her own husband Dennis Watts, it seems that she had no one, she was all alone’
“She had me” he shouted out, everyone stopped and turned to look at him, they all had a look of sympathy on their faces, but not for her for him. He turned and looked at them all, they all knew, they’d all read the news, but they didn’t seem to care that she was dead.
“She had me,” He screamed once more.
“She wasn’t alone, she had me, and we were going to be together, I loved her” he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small blue velvet box, tears still continued to fall, he opened the box to reveal a simple but gorgeous diamond engagement ring.
“I loved her, she had me, and she was mine.” A familiar face appeared and walked over to him and placed his arm around him.
“Come on Jake mate, come on let’s get you home”
Alfie carefully removed the box from within Jake’s fingertips, put it inside his own jacket pocket, and took a broken Jake out of the shop.
Urm i wrote this last night whilst bored at my grans, anyway its a one parter but it has two parts, And its a bit weird but i hope you like!
She looked up and stared into the mirror. She stared into it longingly. Longing to see the confident, sassy woman she once was, but she wasn’t there. There was no point in looking, there was no point in searching, and she would never be able to find the person that once, looked back at her. She still sat and stared though, sat and stared into and empty, lifeless face, stared into nothingness. Stared as if deep in thought or as if under a spell, but she wasn’t deep in thought and she certainly wasn’t under a spell, she was simply staring. She blinked, but nothing changed everything stayed just how it was moments ago. Blinking didn’t help, it was just a moment, a mere moment in which her eyes briefly closed and all the emptiness and nothingness was gone, but then her eyes opened again and that mere moment was gone.
She picked up the bright red lipstick, which lay before her, and she painted her lips with it. A sheet of colour washed over them. Her face now brighter, more alive. Although the emptiness, was still there. And event though her lips were bright and beautiful her eyes still lacked that special twinkle they once had. That special twinkle had died though, it had died along with that spark she used to have, and all sense of excitement, passion and love, dead and gone.
She was nothing.
She had nothing.
Nothing to live for.
No one to live for, not anymore.
She reached over to her bed; she slowly lifted up her pillow to reveal the object she had hidden, kept secret. She picked it up carefully, by the handle of course, and held it in front of her. The silver blade, in a way also acted like a mirror, she turned it slowly and as she did she caught the light on the tip of the blade, it was reflected all around the small, cold room. She then looked closer into the blade, but she still saw no twinkle. She then looked ahead, back into the mirror, which sat before her; she took one last gaze, and then slowly but surely ran the smooth silver blade across her bare wrist.
***
He stepped out of his house and looked around. A fresh, crisp, February morning.
He closed his gate behind him and then walked through the square gardens. Considering it was still reasonably early there was a lot of noise being made, and even though it was a bit cold, it was a beautiful day.
He walked past a few market traders and exchanged morning greetings with them. People were surprised to see him so cheerful, but he couldn’t help it, today was going to be a great day.
He quickly checked his jacket pocket, the small velvet box was still there, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
He stopped outside the Minute Mart, Patrick was just putting out the board with today’s news on, it read; ‘Murderer takes own life’
Well that is something that might have put your mood down, but not today.
He walked into the shop, picked up a newspaper and bottle of water and walked over to the till.
“Won’t be a minute.” Yolande shouted from the back.
While waiting he unfolded the newspaper to reveal the front page, and there was that headline again; ‘Murderer takes own life’.
His eyes skimmed down the page, down to the picture that was with the article.
No, he thought, no it couldn’t be. He went back over to the newspaper stand and picked up another copy, but it had the same picture on, he eyes skimmed over the caption underneath it ‘The Queen Victoria, Walford’.
He eyes made there way back up to the top of the article he started to read it, his eyes welling up. It can’t be, he thought.
‘Christine Watts, was found dead yesterday in her cell on March View at Walford Prison, she had somehow managed to steal a knife from the kitchen, and she slit her wrists. By the time she was found by her cell mate, she had lost to much blood and it was to late for anyone to do anything’
Tears started pouring out of his eyes. No, no she couldn’t of done, she can’t be, she can’t be dead, Yolande was now serving customers at the till and more people had started pouring into the shop, probably to read the news, but he stood still and he continued to read the article;
‘Christine Watts was imprisoned for the murder of her own husband Dennis Watts, it seems that she had no one, she was all alone’
“She had me” he shouted out, everyone stopped and turned to look at him, they all had a look of sympathy on their faces, but not for her for him. He turned and looked at them all, they all knew, they’d all read the news, but they didn’t seem to care that she was dead.
“She had me,” He screamed once more.
“She wasn’t alone, she had me, and we were going to be together, I loved her” he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small blue velvet box, tears still continued to fall, he opened the box to reveal a simple but gorgeous diamond engagement ring.
“I loved her, she had me, and she was mine.” A familiar face appeared and walked over to him and placed his arm around him.
“Come on Jake mate, come on let’s get you home”
Alfie carefully removed the box from within Jake’s fingertips, put it inside his own jacket pocket, and took a broken Jake out of the shop.