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message 1: by Brigid ✩ Cool Ninja Sharpshooter ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. (new)

Brigid ✩ Cool Ninja Sharpshooter ✩ | 11973 comments Mod
Post flashback scenes here.

message 2: by Alicia (Lav) (new)

Alicia (Lav) | 22636 comments Mod
The bell rings and I’m pretty disappointed as I tell my new friend goodbye and head to class. Okay, more than disappointed. I have to leave the only person I care about in this entire school, and it’s not like she’s in any of my classes. I wish I could be a freshmen again. That was the best year. The year I became who I’m struggling to still be now. The year I met my first and only real best friend, Erica. The year our futures were looking up despite all the problems. The year before…

Erica comes out of the room where they were checking her for brain damage and waves at me. It’s this big special trip for all the kids to go to this weird brain institute place during their Junior year to learn about the brain and get a tour. This year they picked a group of random students from all grades to go before the big Junior trip. It didn’t make sense to me, but I had volunteered to go along as a helper. Not really because I wanted to help, but because it was an excuse to hang out with Erica all day (since she was a sophomore we didn’t get to hang out much during school) and get out of class. She had volunteered to get the brain damage check first so we could go outside and hang out since they wouldn’t let us talk during the speech about the human brain and all that junk. I didn’t come here to learn things I already knew and get shushed by old people. But Erica is just standing there, with this sort of glazed over expression. She doesn’t even respond when I hand her an earbud from my smuggled in iPod. She just takes it and puts it in her ear. I expect her to at least grin when she hears Relient K playing but she just stands there. She just… stands there. Emotionless and silent. At first I think she’s having a depressive episode but this is… this is different. She’s not even… she’s not even…
“Hey! Freaky new girl? You have a lot to learn about high school,” a guy says, cutting into my troubling thoughts. “Sitting with freshmen? Big no.” Ugh. One of stupid blonde brat’s friends. Standing right next to him.

“I sit with whoever I want,” I retort.

“You mean you sit with the only people who’ll actually talk to you?”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you’re talking to me right now, smart one.” Is blondie… about to laugh? It sure looks like he’s trying hard not to.

I keep walking, a smirk on my face, and by the time he thinks up a comeback and hurls it at me, I’m too far away to hear him and it’s not like I even care.

But now my distraction is gone and I slip back into…

“Erica?” I say, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her. “We’re getting on the bus now.” Everybody else is done but she hasn’t moved. At all. I keep repeating it, but she doesn’t hear me. Her eyes are… flickering… emotions…. I see her eyes become happy and they’re so happy it hurts because I miss her being that happy and then sad and then angry and then excited and then she’s fighting she’s fighting she’s fighting… and the emotions disappear again. Blank. All they are is blank. “What did they do to you?” I whisper.

In class I struggle to pay attention. But with every word the teacher says I just see Erica staring at me, all the life gone out of her eyes. She’s filling my thoughts and my mind and I can’t take…. I can’t take it …

The seat next to me on the bus is empty as we drive back to school. Voices get louder and louder as I try to breathe, try to keep breathing, force myself to keep breathing and repeat I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay over and over in my head. But it doesn’t work like it’s supposed to work because my mind won’t believe the words I’m trying to trick it with because she’s not sitting next to me and even though every other seat on the bus is occupied and I’m surrounded by people who would probably call themselves my friend nobody notices as the tears stream down my cheeks and my hands shake and the screaming echoes in my head. I’m sitting here without her… alone. Alone.

message 3: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments I like it a lot lot lot. It's slightly confusing, but I still like it.

message 4: by [deleted user] (new)

LOVE. Ahh, Lav you are so talented.

message 5: by Ellen (new)

Ellen | 870 comments So... This may be totally confusing if I don't give any background info. So here it is: the story is like x-men kinda with the mutations. And Rio's trying to get Morgan to remember a moment in her childhood where she felt strong emotions and could her used her mutation so they can figure out what it is. The memory has previously been blocked from her mind with pills (mentioned at the very end of the memory *hint hint*).

She sucked in a deep breath and her shoulders shook.

“There you go,” Rio whispered. “Think of the feelings that are associated with that memory. How do you feel now? How did you feel about it then? Think about the memory. Live in that moment as if it was now.”

The smell of her mother’s perfume filled her mind.


Morgan shook her head and bit down hard on her lip.

“Good morning, Morgan,” her mother says. But Morgan cannot hear her. She trashes around in her bed. Her small hands clench the blanket and she whimpers. She wants to get away from the nasty creature that’s chasing her. She needs to. It’s hurting her.

Her entire body shook as the memory surfaced to the forefront of her mind. In her mind the room she was in wasn’t the basement. Her room was pink and girly; young and innocent.

The big bad wolf looms over her. She is trapped. She sinks down deeper into the snow, hoping that she can disguise herself.

“Morgan.” It’s rasp breath hits her face and she cries out despite herself.

“What’s wrong, Morgan?” the beast taunts her. It cocks its head to the side and something touches her cheek. The feeling is not soft like her mother’s silk hands. It is hard and it hurts her.

“Stop,” Morgan whimpered. “It hurts.”

“I know,” Rio replied. “It’s not meant to be full of rainbows.”


The wolf brushes away the snow from her and Morgan scrambles up. She runs two steps before she is yanked backwards into the snow. The wolf’s teeth ensnare on the back of her shirt and lifts her in the air. Snow hits her bare skin and she trashes even harder. The cold of the snow is painful and it feels like she’s being torn apart.

Somewhere in young Morgan’s mind she can hear her mother’s anguished cries.

Morgan knew what was going to happen next. She could feel the mutation running through her veins. She could feel the anticipation. Her heart hammered in her chest and the sound of Young Morgan’s heart filled the empty space in-between the beats.

“Morgan!” her mother cries. “Richard! Richard come quick!”

The beast drops her and shoves her with its nose. Morgan is shaking, but her movements are jerky like she’s on string and somebody is tugging at them. She doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like this dream. She wants out.

Her body shook uncontrollably now. She dug her nails into her thighs and hot tears ran down her cheeks.

Something—or someone—is shaking her. The beats looms over her even, close enough that she can see every small detail about it that might have otherwise been missed. It’s eyes are huge and green. Green.
Like hers. Something tugs her hair and Morgan screams.

Her mother’s voice fills her ears and the smell of vanilla is too strong to ignore.

“Shhh, Morgan. It’s just a dream.”

Morgan peeks her eyes open slowly.

“Morgan?” Green.

Green eyes, like hers, like the beast in her dream, is all she can see. The eyes are so close she cannot focus on anything else.

Morgan screams and her hand goes to her mother’s cheek.

Her mother gasps and goes to pull away, but she pulls her back down. Morgan is trashing, screaming louder now. She wants the green eyes to go away. She wants them to never come back.

“Morgan! Morgan stop!” her mother cries in terror.

“Stop! Stop this!” Morgan’s hands fisted in her hair. She rocked back and forth. She couldn’t breathe pass the tears. It had to stop. But it couldn’t.

“Go away!” Morgan screams. “Go away, wolf. Go away!”

Morgan can feel the beast weaken. Something thuds on the floor and as curious as Morgan is, she doesn’t want to open her eyes and look.

“Morgan.” The voice is a whisper. “Please. Baby, please. Look at me. It’s me. It’s mama.”

It’s a lie. The wolf in the stories lied about who they were. But the voice... Oh, the voice is so convincing. Morgan peels her eyes open and gasps. She yanks her hand back and her mother sucks in all the air she can. The side of her face presses into Morgan’s bed and her fingers reach her Morgan’s.
Morgan takes her hand and her mother starts to freak out. What is she doing? Why is she doing this? Morgan doesn’t know what to do. She yanks her hand back and shouts.

“Daddy! Daddy! Hurry. It’s mama!”

Her mother doesn’t stop shaking. Her shaking increases and her body slips down onto the floor with a thud. Morgan is crying. Her dad runs into the room. The door bashes against the wall.

“No,” daddy gasps.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan cries. “She wouldn’t stop
shaking! What’s going on?”

Deidre walks into the room. “What’s going on in here? I could hear screaming.”

Daddy crouches down by mama and presses a hand against her neck. He is still until his body shakes with sobs. Deidre steps into the room further and waves Morgan over to her.

“Come, Miss Morgan. You need to leave the room.”

“No!” Daddy shouts. He whirls around and Morgan pauses, half way off the bed. “Deidre, get the pills.” Deidre’s eyes widen and she glances between her and mama, terror in her eyes. “Now, Deidre!”

“Stop,” Morgan cried. “Make it stop.” She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ceiling. The crying lessened until tears just ran down silently.

“Morgan?” Rio, crouched beside her, spoke softly. “Are you going to be okay?”

message 6: by Emily (last edited Apr 24, 2011 01:25PM) (new)

Emily (fluteplayer2) | 51 comments Ellenfp: I really like that! It seems really cool!

Here's one I wrote pretty recently. I don't think you necessarily need to know the background:

Andy and Laine were sitting on the livingroom floor, watching a television show that would help them learn shapes and colors. Laine was six and Andy was four. They were interrupted by their dad’s heavy boots banging up the porch steps.

Mr. Daugherty slammed the door open in frustration. Laine quickly turned off the television, despite Andy’s whimpers of disapproval.

“Lana,” their father yelled for his wife. He grumbled at the base of the staircase waiting for her to answer. He turned to his sons, “Laine, go upstairs and get a suitcase packed. We’re going on a vacation.”

Laine stumbled to a standing position and waited for his father to say more.

“Now,” he urged.

Laine left the livingroom and mounted the stairs that led up to his and Andy’s room. He heard his mother come out of the bathroom just as he reached the top of the flight. Her face was flushed red and her hair was pulled back into a loose bun. His mother’s hands jittered at her sides as she passed him and climbed down the staircase.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Laine heard his father whisper into his mother’s ear.

“Do what,” she pleaded.

“I can’t live here. There’s not enough here. I can’t do anything.”

“So you’re leaving?” The tone of Laine’s mother’s voice made him fill with sadness.

His father shrugged and Laine stole his chance to pack a suitcase. He didn’t know why his dad was taking him on a vacation, but he decided that they were probably going somewhere fun. He stuffed all of his favorite clothing into his roller suitcase. He grabbed his Dalmatian stuffed animal off of his bed and brought it to the top of the stairs.

His mom and dad were still having a discussion at the bottom of the stairs, but his father was closer to the door now.

“It’s not because of you,” he tried to explain. “I still love you, but I need to get out of here.”

“What’s the reason?” Laine’s mother had grown more flustered since she had walked down the stairs.

“I can’t put a name to it. I just don’t feel safe here anymore.”

“Why don’t we discuss it, then? We could all move.”

“No, no. Just me. I don’t want to uproot everything. I’ll be fine.”

“So you’re leaving me with the boys?”

His father hesitated. “Yes.”

Laine ran back into his room with his suitcase. He knew his father wasn’t telling his mother that the two of them were going on vacation. Laine hid behind his bed until his father retrieved him later that night.

“C’mon, we’re leaving now.”

“Where are we going?” Laine whispered.

“On vacation.”

Laine stood up as his father collected his son’s suitcase. He made sure to tiptoe out of his bedroom, trying not to wake his younger brother. Mr. Daugherty closed the bedroom door and led Laine down the staircase and to the front door.

“You’re taking Laine?” A shrill voice called from the couch in the livingroom. His mother was sitting cross-legged on a cushion reading her book by the light of the lamp. In response to her, his father pushed Laine out the front door and propped it open with his foot. He heard his mother walk across the room to stop them at the door. “That’s kidnaping!”

“It isn’t if you don’t report it,” his father said calmly.

“You’re kidding me, Dave,” Laine’s mother whispered harshly.

His father didn’t respond as he stepped out into the cool night air. He corralled Laine to the car.

Laine shoved his head into his hands, trying to breathe normally again. He hadn’t thought about his last night in Washington for the longest time. Just thinking about it made him shake.

“I was kidnaped,” he whispered. He finally admitted it to himself, “I was kidnaped.”

Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments HOLYYYY THAT IS AMAZING. I just think you could put more about the feelings, more metaphors, and stuff like that. I liked the "I don't want to uproot everything." It was a good metaphor.

I have one, but I don't feel like typing it up. I'll do it later.

message 8: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments I think the last sentence should be: “I was kidnapped,” he whispered. He finally admitted it to himself, “I was kidnapped by my own father.”

More dramatic. Moi opinion anyway. And it's very interesting, I like it.

message 9: by Ellen (new)

Ellen | 870 comments fluteplayer2: awwww! That's so sad! :(

message 10: by Emily (new)

Emily (fluteplayer2) | 51 comments Thanks for the feedback! :)

message 11: by Meagan (new)

Meagan (flwurmeagan) | 4987 comments fluteplayer2 wrote: "Ellenfp: I really like that! It seems really cool!

Here's one I wrote pretty recently. I don't think you necessarily need to know the background:

Andy and Laine were sitting on the livingroom..."

Holy feathers! That was so awesome! It was dramatic and just awesomesauce. *fails at reviews and such* But, yes, kidnapped is spelled wrong.

message 12: by Emily (new)

Emily (fluteplayer2) | 51 comments Autumny Autumn wrote: "fluteplayer2 wrote: "Ellenfp: I really like that! It seems really cool!

Here's one I wrote pretty recently. I don't think you necessarily need to know the background:

Andy and Laine were sitting ..."

Actually, 'kidnap' doesn't play by the rules. I typed 'kidnapping' and it was underlined as an incorrectly spelled word. It gave me 'kidnaped' as the correct spelling.

message 13: by Meagan (new)

Meagan (flwurmeagan) | 4987 comments Errrrrrrrr. *mindblown* My whole life has been a lie D:


message 14: by Muse (new)

Muse | 4458 comments DUDE. I know right?

message 15: by Emily (new)

Emily (fluteplayer2) | 51 comments So has mine!

message 16: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments WHAAAT? I AM IN DENIAL ABOUT THIS FACT.

Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments fluteplayer2 wrote: "Ellenfp: I really like that! It seems really cool!

Here's one I wrote pretty recently. I don't think you necessarily need to know the background:

Andy and Laine were sitting on the livingroom..."


message 18: by Emily (new)

Emily (fluteplayer2) | 51 comments Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. wrote: "fluteplayer2 wrote: "Ellenfp: I really like that! It seems really cool!

Here's one I wrote pretty recently. I don't think you necessarily need to know the background:

Andy and Laine were sitting ..."

Hahaha, thank you!

message 19: by Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. (last edited May 02, 2011 03:28PM) (new)

Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments =)
I will now type up my scene.

(Before you read it, I'm just going to let you know what is happening. Divya, Ravi, Anjali, Rohan, and Rhea are on the ship. Rohan and Rhea are in hiding. Divya tried to sneak some water from their rations, but they don't have enough....)
And also, know that I mean NO DISRESPECT TO MUSLIMS! OR HINDUS! (I am one, why would I do that?) It's just the historical context.

Rhea and Rohan jumped guiltily as soon as Divya came in, and Anjali and Ravi froze in their tracks. Divya looked around the room, her relief turning into misery. Are they that scared of me?
"Sorry, Divya," Anjali said meekly. "We thought that Rhea and Rohan should get some air, and they needed to be out for you to give them some water, so..."
"It's fine, it's fine." Divya bit her tongue to stop herself from telling them what to do. "Did you get the water?"
Both nodded and handed her their small containers. Divya flinched as she saw the three containers. For the first time, she realized how little water it was. It was barely enough to properly clean one of them. After they both drank, there would only be one container left. She only had one choice. She had to sneak away more water.
At that moment, more than anything, she wanted to crawl under her turtle shell, build a wall around herself, go onto her solitary planet, anything to block reality away, to end this.
She sat down on the bed and buried her face in her hands. Temporarily, reality had gone away. But it would come back. And then she would have to do it. She would have to do it. It was always her, and it would always be her. It would never get any easier.
An image unfolded in front of her eyes - the quiet stillness of the night, creeping into the bathroom, feeling the cold through her clothes, feeling it sting her and bite her, telling her not to do it. She saw herself desperately looking around for water, then finding the warm, alive, liquid. She saw herself scooping up water and about to flee, about to be safe, when an icy hand was laid on her shoulder. The real Divya felt the pain as much as the one in the illusion. Terror filled her, white-hot, scratching and biting her, needle-sharp and deadly. Through it, she couldn't make out what he was saying, but he knew something. He knew something bad, for in each of his hands, there was the helpless arm of each of the twins. She saw them. Saw their wide, terrified eyes. Saw their hopeless, sagging shoulders. Saw them looking at her, their gaze piercing her...
Divya sobbed silently inside her hands. She couldn't do it. What could happen loomed over her, as if a huge WARNING sign was pasted over her eyes.
But then, another image rose to the surface, pushing aside the other. Not hard, but gently, so that there was room for both. The image rippled and came to life, clearly and with a warm, soothing, feeling, unlike the other.
She was eleven years old again, back in Lahore. Before the partition struck home so severely. Before she began to feel out of place as a Hindu.
She was in the park. It was a cloudy day in November, and crisp winds stung her face as she stood in the grass. Small children in gray uniforms were scattered across the grass. The boys played cricket, Ravi among them. The little six and seven year olds played by the large tree. The smallest children crawled about in the grass, observing everything. Everyone was content. It was like a well-oiled machine, running smoothly and well.
But in one place, the parts were getting creaky.
Divya stepped forward to line up in the queue of eleven year old girls. Anushka, the leader, the popular girl, stood in front of the line, her black curls bouncing as she twirled the skipping rope. She was going to lead the skipping game, as she always did. "Okay. Get into two gropus."
The girls obeyed immediately Everybody did what Anushka wanted, whether they liked it or not. It was the way of the sixth class, and it was the way of Anushka. She could make anyone believe her.
"She'll be Prime Minister, that one," Amma would say.
Divya scrambled with the rest of the girls into a group and waited for Anushka to start. But instead, a frown crossed the leader's pretty face.
"Sameera, you can't play with us," she announced.
Sameera, a girl standing close to Divya, looked hurt. "What? Why not?"
Even before Anushka spoke, Divya knew the answer.
"You're Muslim. My father says we shouldn't associate with Muslims."
Looking at Anushka's spiteful face as she spoke those hateful words, Divya felt a blaze of anger. Sameera was no different than the rest of the girls. She was just Muslim, while everyone else was Hindu. And the partition shouldn't reach us, she thought angrily. It can't go this far, so far that it affects playground games!
"Well?" Anushka looked around, sweeping her commanding gaze over her subjects and the one outcast. "Come, girls."
Divya's conscience shook her by the shoulder.
Stand up to her. Go ahead. You know it's wrong. As the twelve year old Divya watched, she felt the warm, soothing feeling ebb away to be replaced by a chilly, uneasy feeling.
"Anushka." She tapped her classmate's shoulder.
Anushka spun around. "What?"
Her cool gray gaze sucked all the courage out of Divya. She couldn't do it. It would turn Anushka and the rest of the class against her. And she may not even have Sameera on her side.
What, Divya?" Anushka tossed her hair back impatiently. "We're waiting to start."
Do it! Do it! The voice screamed inside her. Her face grew hot and tears stung her eyes. "Nothing," she stuttered. "Nothing."
Anushka flounced away, the rest of the girls following her. Divya trudged after them, trying not to look back at Sameera's face. But her eyes won and darted backwards to look.

The twelve year old Divya slowly drew her fingers away from her face. She had let Sameera down. She had isolated her. She had betrayed her. Now she was about to do the same to Rohan and Rhea. Her baby brother and sister. Her joy and comfort. All out of selfish fear.
She had to do it. Without it, she would hurt Rohan and Rhea, Anjali and Ravi, her family in Canada and Pakistan, but most of all, herself.

Did you like ittt??????

Emily -The Rabbit Keeper | 211 comments I think it's really good! I could feel the emotions Divya was feeling very clearly.

There's something I need some help on though. My story is written in present tense, but I have a flashback scene in the first chapter. My problem is not so much the scene, but what tense I should use. Do I put in in present tense, like the rest of the story, or past tense, since it is a flashback?

Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments Why thank you. =)

I think you should put it in present tense, since a flashback is when the person is feeling something all over again. Yep. Present tense.

Emily -The Rabbit Keeper | 211 comments That makes sense, thank you! :)

message 24: by Baxter, butts butts butts (new)

Baxter (julietrocksmysocks) | 2455 comments Mod
My one and only flashback scene! It's the 3rd part of my last story. This part is called "___". FLAAAASHHHBAAACK

A bench. Flowers bloomed across the park field, narcissus sprouting up in every place they could. The grass had that recently mowed look, with horizontal lines of alternating shine and deep and healthy green. Just as healthy were the trees, which reached as high as they could, some several times the size of a person, others only up to the top of a head. A rabbit with brown fur sat next to a worn out sidewalk and it's ear twitched. Near the unused tennis courts and their perfect fences and sturdy nets and scuffed floor was a pond filled with sparkling green water that could be easily seen through. There were fish in the pond, and there still are fish in that pond. The sun was at its height, shooting through little crevices of the trees' leaves like a thousand concentrated beams from a flashlight. It was hot, hot enough that sweat pits would form under arms after a few minutes, and brows would need to be wiped. Birds landed in a gray bird feeder, to find there was no water in it. It's legs were made to look old, and the seat was crafted with the cheapest collection of wooden planks possible. Each piece had two massive nails at the corner, holding everything together. Small splinters of wood tried to escape but only made it halfway, leaving uncomfortable spikes sticking out at set places. He sat down, avoiding one such spike by a few millimeters. He was tired. The day before his medicine had ran out, and he couldn't help but think about her again. There was nothing in his head but her name. Rachel Rachel Rachel. The sound of footsteps from a jogger. He closed his eyes and tried in vain to wet his mouth. Each moment the footsteps got closer and louder. They hit the concrete in perfect rhythm as the name Rachel. Ray-Chel. Ray-chel. God-Oh-God-Ray-Chel. They stop. Ray....He opens his eyes. A woman with her hair tied behind her and a white headband stood panting, facing him. She was wearing gray sweatpants with some emblem embroidled on them, and an equally gray hoodie. She had slight wrinkles near her eyes. She asked if the seat was taken and if she could possibly maybe sit if he didn't mind. He couldn't look away from the wrinkles around her eyes. He asked her what her name was and she replied "Sarah".

message 25: by Meagan (new)

Meagan (flwurmeagan) | 4987 comments I feel like I've read this before...or is that just because it's a flashback scene? Whoa, mind blown. Anyway, nice job :)

message 26: by Meagan (new)

Meagan (flwurmeagan) | 4987 comments So I wrote this flashback scene. The problem is, it's particularly terrible, even below my standard. I've looked at it and looked at it, and it just irks me for no apparent reason. Would you pretty pretty please take a look at it and see what's wrong? :)

Cass had opened her self-titled, alliterated coffee shop the summer before my senior year of high school, when I was a girl dying for any chance of escape. Even after a few months I was still stuck on Sam, still wishing I could have found a way out of my hole without him and wondering if I could have, but knowing I would never know. One night when I was driving around, torturing myself with a CD of Sam’s ballads, I stumbled into Cass’s Coffee House and she gave me a place to be alone.

Even now, half a decade later, Cassie got me. I came in near midnight during the Christmas season and she just waved hello and let me hide in my favorite armchair, long past weathered and reaching dilapidated. Only instead of escaping from too much time with myself, I was escaping from too much time with ­­____, awkward because of the constant linger of the proposal-to-come. Emotions twisted in my stomach, fear and indecision clouding my ability to breathe. I wished I hadn’t found the ring. I was so glad I’d found the ring.

I wished the ring didn’t exist.

It was late. I could save thinking for tomorrow. I squeezed my eyes shut, the pressure on my eyelids strangely comforting. The oversized headphones with which Sam had so generously seventeenth birthday gifted me with five years ago fitted over my head, I curled my sock feet into my body and remembered my first love.


“Hey, it’s me again,” I said quietly to my open locket. “I just wanted to say hi, see how you’re doing. I’m going to be in a play this weekend. I’m only in the ensemble, since it’s more like a musical and I’m not the best singer but at least I got in, you know? And, yeah…”

A knock rapped against the door and there was a click as the costume closet’s entrance and I dropped my locket, snapping its doors on my parents’ pictures, my hair whipping my face as I pivoted to face the intruder.

“Hey,” Sam smiled his easy smile. Why was I so aware of their lack of braces? Ever since he’d gotten them off last week, I was in constant notice of their absence. I kind of missed them. He looked different…too different, that was, and—Unknowingly putting an end to my inner tangent, he continued, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” I gave him a weak smile and realized by the tear rolling off my cheek I’d been crying.

Sam stepped to me with a confusingly concerned expression on his face. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing,” I said, trying to brush it off, casually wiping at my eyes. Thank goodness I’d yet to apply my stage make up. “I was just talking to my parents, because they died in a car crash when I was two and this is as close as I’ll ever get to knowing them and I guess that’s kind of gets me emotional, apparently.”

My nonchalance had the opposite effect of that I’d intended. I only started crying harder, my stomach panging as I gasped for breath I’d been deprived of in an attempt to hold back a sob.

“Come here,” Sam whispered, pulling me into his arms. “It’s okay, Rain.”

I clung to him, slightly distracted from the issue by his all-encompassing scent. He smelled like soap, just fresh and clean. As soon as I noticed, it became overwhelmingly strong and I was losing my head in him with his arms holding me and fingers getting tangled in my hair.

He started to pull away and I hoped my slip of momentary hesitation had been disregarded as an unnoticeable nuance. Sam smiled into my eyes with his own, an impossibly deep blue and wiped away my tears. And as I started to smile back, he kissed me.


The musical tinkle of a wind chime’s harmonies drew me from my reverie and I sighed, leaning into the arm chair with my eyes still shut. I only allowed my sock feet to slip quietly back into their place in my tattered high school sneakers. This night was a bottomless pool of nostalgia in which I was drowning, so I figured “Why not?” and spun my click wheel to my most treasured album, though I dared not to admit this to anyone and sometimes even myself.

“You are the one, the one who lies close to me, whispers ‘hello, I’ve missed you quite terribly.’ I fell in love, in love with you suddenly…” My lips parted to sing softly to the wonderfully familiar melody of Sam singing our song to me.

I opened my eyes for the first time to catch a glimpse of the newest customer.

No, I thought sharply at the sight, immediately returning my gaze to my lap and berating the increased speed of my pulse. It’s not him. I was obviously formulating visions from my own imagination on this night of nostalgia.

But another peek proved my previous inclinations unmistakable. The man who stood before the counter was Sam Carter. The figure, stance, and blonde hair were impossibly his. Impossibly, because I didn’t need a Sam to deal with, especially not now. I was supposed to have forgotten about him.

Chewing my lip, a habit I’d never managed to break, I stood quickly and started for the door, silent and stealthy, my shoes falling off my heels. But Cass waved at me over the register, causing her customer to turn in my direction. It was all over.

Cringing, I dropped my iPod in my pocket, quickly tucking the neon green headphones and their conspicuous bulk in the mass that was my coat, and inhaled deeply in preparation of his inevitable recognition. My heartbeat raced as Sam turned to glance over his shoulder. His eyes grazed over me in the most cursory fashion, and returned back to his wallet immediately. Just moments after I allowed a sigh of relief to fill my lungs and I’d begun to lunge for the door, he turned around again.


“Heyyy, Sam.”

message 27: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments D'awwwww. <3

Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments I never knew Rain's parents died =(

message 29: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments WHICH SEAT CAN I TAAAAKE?

Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments IT'S FRIIDAY, FRIIDAY, GETTINGGG DOWNN ON FRIIIdAAYYY!!

message 31: by Mandy (new)


message 32: by Brigid ✩ Cool Ninja Sharpshooter ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. (new)

Brigid ✩ Cool Ninja Sharpshooter ✩ | 11973 comments Mod

message 34: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments ♥ Brigid ♥ wrote: "NOOOOO NOW IT'S STUCK IN MY HEAD FOREVER!"


message 35: by Tesni (new)

Tesni (ohmarcello) | 5031 comments Mandy [purple sky fly over me] wrote: "7AM WAKING UP IN THE MORNING, GOTTA GET FRESH, GOTTA GO DOWNSTAIRS, GOTTA GET A BOWL, SOMETHING EAT CEREAL AND GO TO THE BUS STOP...YEAH."


Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments T e s n i wrote: "Mandy [purple sky fly over me] wrote: "7AM WAKING UP IN THE MORNING, GOTTA GET FRESH, GOTTA GO DOWNSTAIRS, GOTTA GET A BOWL, SOMETHING EAT CEREAL AND GO TO THE BUS STOP...YEAH."



message 37: by Tesni (new)

Tesni (ohmarcello) | 5031 comments I DON'T WANT THIS WEEKEND TO EEEEEEEND

Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments WEEE WEEE WEEE SO EXCITEDDDD

message 39: by Brigid ✩ Cool Ninja Sharpshooter ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. (new)

Brigid ✩ Cool Ninja Sharpshooter ✩ | 11973 comments Mod

message 40: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments IT'S FRIDAAAAY.

message 41: by Brigid ✩ Cool Ninja Sharpshooter ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. (new)

Brigid ✩ Cool Ninja Sharpshooter ✩ | 11973 comments Mod

Shreya=Drastically Random. Find the emoticon. | 1078 comments 7 AM AND I GO BACK TO SLEEP.

message 43: by Mandy (last edited May 12, 2011 04:25PM) (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments I suck at finding last names, so…forgive me. Oh! And the flashbacks are the big 2nd POV paragraphs in italics…if you couldn’t tell…yep. This is something I haven’t actually done before, meaning, written in this style AND it’s unedited…so bear with me!

“Emery Lastname?” I stood frozen for a second, hand paralyzed in the position of moving a stray chunk of hair away from my eyes. The shock took a moment to register on my face. I forced my hand down at my side, to dangle there calmly.

“Lydia Lastname.” He replied matter-of-factly, smiling expectantly. I had a sudden wave of déjà vu of this moment. This moment that I had been waiting for years.

You’re standing there and I can’t take my eyes off of you. I can’t even blink. An irrational fear has hold of me and I’ve convinced myself that if I just don’t take my eyes off you I can keep you forever. You’ll never have to leave. You step forward, the light catches the tears on your cheek and you slide your arms around my waist. The way you hold me lets me know that you’ve accepted this as the last time. There’s a longing, a desperate attempt to commit this moment to memory so you can remember it for the rest of your life. We’re standing on the steps to my house and the taxi driver is getting frustrated but no one will take this from us. No one can have this moment in time but us. We deserve at least this.

“It’s—it’s good to see you again.” My mind was spinning in a tornado of thoughts eighty miles an hour. What did he want? Thoughts like where he went to college, or what he’s been doing all this time didn’t cross my mind. I knew exactly what college. Not a day had passed without me thinking of Emery Lastname. Every memory of him was etched deep into my mind where I kept them, close and private to myself, reliving them only at night, when I couldn’t sleep, and fleeting moments during the day, when something reminded me of him.

Practically everything reminded me of him.

He was probably married now. Maybe even had a child. I bet the child was absolutely adorable. Was he coming to offer compensation and be friends or something absolutely ridiculous like that?

He should know that I’ve changed. I wouldn’t accept a simply apology.

Why was he just standing there, smiling cockily at me?

“It’s really good to see you too, Lydia.”

How can he use my name in such a familiar way? How could he even dare? Anger was beginning to set in. Typical of Emery. Showing up at my university library after all these years. With his cryptic and seemingly happy expression and mannerisms. I wanted to wipe that amiable smile off his face and replace it with tears and sorrow. Did he realize what he put me through?

I guess I should be grateful. It was him that made me stronger.

I’m trying to think of something to say: “I love you, I’ll never forget you”, but it all seems alien and contrived. I can’t admit to myself that this is the last time I’ll see you and I can’t say what I want to because I know I won’t last till the end of the sentence. Instead I pull you closer and wish for you to understand how I feel, realize what you mean to me. You’re more than everything I could ever have hoped for or imagined, and losing you will cost far more than I can bear.

If he was coming to make amends…well, he was too late.

I’m crying now and I can’t help myself or even begin to pull myself together. You shudder in my arms and I can tell you’re crying too but it’s been too long and it’s time to go. We separate and take one more, frantic glance at each other before you mutter goodbye and turn to get into the taxi. I say goodbye too but by this point it’s just a formality; a signal to the taxi driver that he can drive away.

Four and a half years too late.

message 44: by Meagan (new)

Meagan (flwurmeagan) | 4987 comments D:

message 45: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments Yesss. It's saaaad. BUT I'M SO HAPPY I'VE ACTUALLY WROTE OUT A LONGER-THEN-A-PAGE SCENE! =D

message 46: by Meagan (new)

Meagan (flwurmeagan) | 4987 comments HECK YEA! *high ten*
(It took me like eight tries to hit the askerisk instead of the other symbols o_O)

message 47: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments Hahaha. xD =D

message 48: by Annie , butts butts butts butts butts (new)

Annie  Carlson (annielawlz) | 3393 comments Mod

message 49: by Kendall [Kenny] (new)

Kendall [Kenny] (poeticshark) | 10786 comments Manandy wrote: "I suck at finding last names, so…forgive me. Oh! And the flashbacks are the big 2nd POV paragraphs in italics…if you couldn’t tell…yep. This is something I haven’t actually done before, meaning, wr..."

That was beautiful, Mandy. I really like it.

"Emery Lastname" really has a ring to it. ;) hehe

message 50: by Mandy (new)

Mandy  Harmon (mandyharmon) | 10724 comments Kenny [set fire to the rain and let it burn] wrote: "Manandy wrote: "I suck at finding last names, so…forgive me. Oh! And the flashbacks are the big 2nd POV paragraphs in italics…if you couldn’t tell…yep. This is something I haven’t actually done bef..."

Aw, thanks. =)


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