Savior--part 3

final post of my story/novel:

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I step over the threshold. The music is blaring. Everyone has at least one partner. Girl or boy, just someone. Some have more. I, however, am left in eternal solitude. Left to wander alone and just hear scraps of other people’s conversations and never to have my own.

One girl’s voice stands out to me as I walk past the stairs. She is saying, “You need a new purse I’m tired of that one.”

I miss what the girl she is talking to says but I can hear the first girl’s laugh. It carries through the air over the music.

Other pieces of conversations reach me. Three girls are standing by the refrigerator, talking fast about a trip they are going on in a week. I think they are going to Disney World. I wish I could go with them. Be a part of their group. I’ve never been to Disney World.

I turn the corner into the living room and see two girls who seem just as alone as I am, except together—if that makes sense. One is writing in a little notebook that she has just pulled out of her over-large bag and the other is sitting next to her reading and occasionally glancing at what the other is writing.

They might be nothing like me, but their solitude makes me feel connected to them somehow. At the same time, I know I’m nothing like them. They have each other. I’m left with no one.

I’m not usually interested in joining conversations with people I don’t know, but anybody would do right now.

I make it through the entire house—upstairs and down, front yard and back—one and a half times. I turn to go—

“Hi.”

Is he talking to me?

“Hello?”

God, he must be. He’s looking right at me. Looking right at me with those gorgeous golden-brown eyes. Now that I see them up close, I see that they look like caramel. They even look like they are melting.

“Hi,” I manage to mutter. He doesn’t hear me and I can tell he’s debating whether or not to leave.

“Hi,” I say louder. He hears this time. His eyes smile.

“I’m Charlie. Brown. Charlie Brown,” he says grinning. I can’t help but laugh.

“Well, my names nothing that great, but I think it’s something special. I’m Piper Sutton,” I say. I reach out and grab his outstretched hand. Nobody shakes hands anymore.

“Piper’s a good name. I think it’s special, too. Uncommon. Not common.” He repeats things a lot. It’s cute.

I find myself staring at his mouth when he talks. It turns out, his eyes aren’t his only amazing feature. The curve of his smile, the shape of his lips, the way his teeth fit together perfectly. They are all perfect.

And it’s surprisingly easy for me to talk to him. I’ve never been able to talk to a guy. Okay, so I’ve been able to talk to the outcasts that sit at my lunch table, but that’s different. They’re not hot guys. Not like him. Not like Charlie. Charlie. What a wonderful name.

“You go to Waccamaw, don’t you?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts about him. I don’t mind.

“Yea…unfortunately,” I say, sighing. He gives a little laugh.

“I know. I’ve been here for one day and I already hate it. Hate it. But it’s getting better every second.”

My heart flutters. I can’t breathe. I really can’t breathe. Someone bumps up against me and the air comes back into my lungs. But then, I fall into him and he catches me, and my breath is gone again.

His arms are so warm. I want to stay there forever, but he stands me back up. My face is hot, and, looking up into his eyes, I feel goose bumps crawl up my arms.

Take a deep breath.

I do. The new air is helping. It’s washing out the embarrassment. Slowly I become normal again. I can breathe. I’m not shaking anymore.

We continue talking for hours. I don’t actually leave the party until almost midnight. He drives me home since I don’t have a car and Anna left me. I would normally hate her right now, but I love her.

Sitting in his car is perfect. It feels right. The whole ride is comfortable—besides my unsteady heart—and much different from the ride to the party. He is much better than Anna.

Going home feels awful now, whereas before I met Charlie, it would have felt amazing. Charlie is my savior. I’ve never believed in love at first sight before, but it must be something similar to that feeling I had when I looked into his eyes. Something similar to seeing him. To seeing Charlie.


End of chapter. End of posts. Begging for comments. This is the one I'm sending in. I've decided.

♥Heather

Savior--part two

ok, part two of the second chapter that is now titled as above. titled 'Savior'.
It hasn't been edited at all. just the regular spell check on Word.(I decided I was too lazy to edit it yet)
Please read and comment.
there will only be one post after this of my story unless I steal the separate blog idea which I don't think I will....

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My body is shaking. I’m rocking back and forth. No, someone else is shaking me, rocking me back and forth. I’ve been sleeping. My consciousness is just spurring into action.

I remember. I fell asleep on the bench. On my bench, and missed fourth block. But I’m not on the bench. I don’t feel the cold, black metal bars on my back. I’m not even sitting up. I’m in my bed, covers wrapped tightly around me. I had to have come home and gone to sleep. Yea, that’s it.

Anna’s hands are the ones shaking me.

“Wake up,” she says.

I groan and open my eyes. My eyes focus only enough to read the bright, gleaming red numbers of my alarm clock. 5:32. I can’t see anything other than that. 5:32. I shake off the covers and walk blindly into my bathroom. I grip the sink and look into the mirror. My vision finally clears and I see the red splotches on my face. They are a great contrast to the rest of my skin.

I unclench my fingers from the sink and turn on the faucet. I splash the icy water on my face. My senses become more alert. My hand stretches out, elbow stiff, to grab the last towel on the shelf and I dry off my face.

I make my way back to my bed and slump down on the warm covers. Tap. Tap. Tap. Anna taps her foot on the hardwood floor. Tap. Tap. Tap. Won’t she just stop? Tap. Tap! TAP!

“What?” I ask, jerking my head towards her and almost shouting.

She shrinks back form the unexpected response, then regains her composure.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering why you weren’t getting ready for the party…” She says in her perfect taunting, sing-song voice.

“I’ve got an hour and a half!” Besides, why get ready for a party I don’t want to go to?”

“You obviously have no idea how much work it takes to prepare for a party.”

“Ugh.” She disgusts me. “Leave.”

“Fine. Whatever.” she says, walking out the door into the hallway.

I jump up from my bed and slam the door shut. I hear the muffled sound of her saying “cranky…” from the other side of the closed door. I stand there, fuming and trying to calm down. Once I’ve done so, I grab a towel from the laundry I haven’t folded yet, and go back into the bathroom. I hang the towel on the hook, take down my ponytail, and begin brushing my stubborn blonde hair. As I look in the mirror, I realize he’ll never remember me. I’m to plain and ordinary for him.

Once I’m out of the shower and dressed, I blow-dry my hair. It doesn’t take long for it to dry, but it does take a long time to make it not look bad(I’m unsuccessful and give up after almost thirty minutes).

I still have nearly forty-five minutes left until the party so I go over to my bookcase and pull out a battered and torn copy of Pride and Prejudice that I’ve read about a thousand times. I open to the first page and start reading as I walk slowly back to my bed where I plop down and wait.

By the time Anna is done staring at herself in the mirror, doing her makeup and perfecting her already perfect hair, I’ve finished half of the book. She walks in and starts yelling at me.

“What are you doing reading? We should be leaving in a few minutes. And…oh my god…you’re wearing that?” She rolls her eyes and runs over to my closet. She tears through the clothes, looking for something ‘suitable’.

I look down at my clothes. Dark jeans and a gray camisole and sweater. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I look up at Anna, still digging through my closet, throwing out clothes she thinks are hideous—she throws out most of them. She’s wearing a pink and white striped blouse and a mini skirt. Oh, now I know what’s wrong with mine. It’s not preppy and girly.


I refuse all the options Anna gives me, so she reluctantly leaves the room to get her car keys. It’s been fifteen minutes and so we leave way later than she wanted us to. The ride to the party is unbearable. Full of awkward silences, unspoken irritation, and evil glares. At least sixteen times—in the fourteen minutes it takes to get there—Anna looks down at my clothes with her face crumpled in disgust. I give a disgusted look right back at her every single time.

After the fourteen minutes—I was counting—of pure agony, we arrive at the party. The front lawn is crowded with people talking to each other and making their way to the front door. Some of them are drinking. Most of the kids live in this neighborhood and walked, so it’s easy to find a spot to park not too far away.

Anna cuts off the engine of her shiny blue corvette, and, with the sudden silence, the music becomes distinguishable and I can hear every word. It’s some hip-hop song I hate with a dance movie I can’t do. Anna starts nodding her head to the beast and mouthing the words. She grabs her purse and opens the door. I just sit here, staring. I don’t want to go in. Ever.

She places the soles of her pink Jimmy Choos on the pavement and starts o get up, but looks back at me, still sitting and staring.

“Are you coming?” she asks.

I sit and stare some more.

“Hello? Piper? Are you with us?”

Still sitting and staring.

“Are—you—coming?” she says, spacing out the words as if I’m dumb.

I finally move and grunt, then reach for the door handle and step out. When my converse hits the pavement, the sound is far from that of Anna’s heels.

My body moves like a robot. One small movement at a time. Not thinking about what I’m doing is the best option. I’m not walking towards my death. Just to a party where I’m not going to know anyone—or at lest, no one who know me.

The sound of Anna’s steps join mine, maybe a foot back. We get closer and closer. Someone shouts her name. She runs off to greet whoever it was, leaving me alone, walking towards my version of hell.

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there it is. part two of chapter two.

comment please...especially you, caroline because you were the one who told me to post this.

and emilea too.
luvya
♥Heather