VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: [1], 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 12:04:24 11/03/02 Sun
Author: Porthos
Subject: Apology (Fiction, i'm sorry)

Keep in mind that this is completely ficticious and if you are easily offended you may not wish to read this.

Apology

What do you want? Honestly, what the fuck do you want from me? You seem to think that this will be easy, that telling you all about it will be fun or some shit. Well you’re wrong. You are dead wrong.
Two weeks ago when you came over and said hi, crossed the street with a daisy in your hair, I had felt you for the first time. You moved your hands over your lips as you searched for the words. I helped you. “You want to tell me that you are sorry, that you wish things would be different, am I right,” I’d said. You looked down at your boots and saw your reflection on the skin of an animal. It made you smile.
Do you know what I did then? No, of course you don’t. Well, I walked right into the smoke shop on fifth and high and I bought a cigar. The guy behind the counter with his hairy knuckles and alligator skin lit it for me. He said it was a good choice. I sucked in and spit out. I manipulated the smoke with my tongue and tried to sculpt it into something magnificent. Something that would be beautiful until the wind caught it. I walked on down the street, passing every kind of girl. The indie girl with her bangs and scarf, she looked at me and I exhaled. The intellectual with her Ohio State sweatshirt and straining book bag. She took notice and I made eye contact. I could fuck every one of them. The business suit and the sorority T, oh yeah them too, and I took another drag and held it. My nose tickled.
I sloshed the saliva around my mouth, tasting the tobacco. Somebody made this, I thought. Somebody took this leaf in their hands and changed it. Grabbed it with their wrinkled fingers and thought of me. He will enjoy this, they said out loud. He will need this someday.
Do you know where I was walking? No, I’m sure you don’t know that either you bastard. You smug fucking worm. I was walking to your house to get my things. We’d spent Christmas Day there after I told my dad to fuck himself. We’d had a grand time with that bottle of merlot.
So what did I do when I got there? I looked in through the window and saw you watching TV, watching some sitcom. Which one I don’t know, they’re all the same. The same like every kid whose parents are divorced is the same. My dad manipulates us with guilt or my mom only cares about what the church ladies say. Boo fucking hoo. So there you sat with a Sunkist in your hand, nursing it like an infant. There you sat letting the light from the TV dance on your face. Good lord you were beautiful. What was that? Were you crying? Was that a tear beating a path down your cheek?
You’d said to me “all my friends are turning into the worst kind of people.” Your brow had furrowed. Your brown hair shivered. What does one say to that? You tell me. I let my eyes do the talking but I guess you weren’t in the mood to listen. I stared at you for five minutes while you smoked, your eyes glazed over. You never told me about how your dad used to stick his hands where the sun don’t shine. He made you feel like a washcloth, warm and dirty and you never told me. I had to hear it from the social worker who came to make sure I’d be ok, came to explain things to me in a way that would help me come to terms.
Remember that night I told you everything? We were in the park and it was cold. My breath caught the light and glistened. I told you the twilight made you look more alive than is possible and you said you saw your aunt dead in her coffin and it was dimly lit. You said you thought you saw her breathing. That made me remember my great grandfather’s funeral. My dad was solemn and he said that nobody knew if he came to Christ before he passed. At ten you take those things in and choke on them. I heaved. Then there was the time, I told you all of this on the park bench (the one on the hill by the pond), there was this time that I caught my father masturbating in his priest getup. Collar and everything. I went to find him in his office on a Monday afternoon and he was jerking off on the prayer list. You followed the white duck with your eyes as I told you this. What was there to say? I made up my mind to say it all, so I told you about how when I was eight I told the neighbor girl to pull down her pants and she did. I told you how she went home and told her mom nonchalantly and how the phone rang at my house and I said no my mother was not home at the moment. I told you how when my father found out he laughed and patted me on the shoulder.
So there I was at your house. It was the end of the show and the single father was laughing after a heart felt moment with his rowdy but good intentioned preadolescent. God how the earth tones reflected off your face and made you alive. You sat there through the credits and into the next commercial break. You didn’t bat an eyelash you stupid fucking bitch. I rapped on the window. I knew your doorbell didn’t work, hell I tried to fix it more than once. I remember how my face bloomed when I had given up and resigned to let people knock. So I rapped on the window and called your name. “Rachael” I said and then said again louder. You didn’t hear me. You never looked up.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.