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| Subject: Re: The Attraction- short story | |
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Author: kimmie |
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Date Posted: 19:53:26 07/12/02 Fri In reply to: Gina Z. 's message, "The Attraction- short story" on 23:02:28 07/07/02 Sun oooooo that was good girl! that's not what i expected at all . .geez. good job! >my mom challenged me to write a story with no relation >to NSync, and she gave me a title to work with as >well. I just did it tonight- so here ya go... > >The Attraction >By Gina Z. > >My watch read 4 A.M, and as I slowly took my key out >of the ignition, the rain poured like it never had >before. The night was heavy, and the air was thick. My >car shuddered beneath me the minute I removed the >small brass key, and a crack of lightning split the >sky clearly in two. I propped my elbow up on the >headrest behind me and began to curse myself when I >didn’t see my umbrella. Oh well, I thought, I intended >on doing this anonymously anyway. Before finally >exiting the car, I inhaled deeply. It was now or >never, I knew that if I didn’t do it now I would never >muster up enough courage to do it ever again. I opened >my door and stepped out. Before closing it, I grabbed >the white plastic bag sitting in the back seat. > >I stood in front of my door for what seemed like a few >minutes. Taking in the humid South Carolina air, I >allowed the rain to pelt me mercilessly. There was >nothing I could do to keep myself dry, and I knew that >the rain would jeopardize my plans severely. I thought >about it at least ten times as I stood in a growing >puddle. My wet body would leave footprints. I guess >the only thing I could hope for was nobody was awake. >By this time, I was done pondering the worst and >surveying the landscape I’d visited only ten thousand >times. I glanced at my watch. It was 4:06. > >In my free time, which I’d had a lot of in the recent >days, I’d thought about this. Time and time again, I >saw myself pulling up, walking up the stairs, and >actually doing it. I’d seen it in my head over and >over, but that was as far as it went. After the >breakup, my buddies and I had joked about it. Just >like my actions in the present, I could see the stone >cold look on their faces once they’d see that I’d >actually done it. They’d be floored. If they supported >it, I didn’t know, but at that point, I didn’t care. >Nothing was going to stop me on this night. > >The bag sat comfortably bunched up in the palm of my >left hand. I’d concealed it well enough so the naked >eye could see a fist and only a fist. The neighbors >knew me, and if they saw me out here at four in the >morning, in the rain with a bag in my hand, they’d be >suspicious. Why do you think I parked four buildings >away? At least four buildings away, not all the >neighbors knew me. Only one or two. > >I decided it was time to move; at this point I hoped >my mind would just tune everything out and shut down. >I knew my mind well enough to know that if I thought >about it anymore, it would just remain a thought in my >mind. A very sadistic thought in my mind, if I must >say so myself. And so I walked, the rain sloshing >beneath my boots. I could feel the ankles of my baggy >jeans getting damp. Of all nights for the weather to >be bad, right? At this point, I could only envision >what my mother would say to that comment. See why I >wanted my mind to shut down? > >I worked my way around two buildings by now. The rain >was picking up, falling in solid sheets instead of >just sheets. At times it felt like thirty-pound blocks >were simultaneously falling on my head it was that >bad. The ankles of my jeans were soaked as were the >shoulders of my white t-shirt, but I still remained as >anonymous as I could. Nobody had seen me yet. >Hopefully nobody was awake, but who would be awake at >that ungodly hour? Hell, I was tired, but it didn’t >stop me from doing anything now did it? I cracked an >evil smile as that thought crossed my mind, but >immediately clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle a >laugh. Evil, I’m just pure evil. > >I crossed in front of the third building, building >twenty-eight. She lived in building twenty-nine. That >was the building I needed if I was going to go through >with it, which at this time I had every intention of >doing. Every ounce of blood in my veins, and every >bone in my body were driving me to just do it. I’d >already thought about the worst-case scenarios. She >wakes up, or the alarm goes off (does she even have >one?), or a neighbor sees me. I had everything >covered. My bag and me would do the work. It was up to >him to do the rest. > >I glanced at my watch again, and by the 4:11 reading >of the face of my watch I was standing at the >stairwell. This stairwell, this very set of eighteen >stairs that I stood in front of so many times brought >back many memories. There were so many times that I >could remember walking up and down these stairs. >Sometimes these were good walks, other times (more bad >than good) they were bad. It was a long walk up. She >lived on the second floor meaning thirty-six steps all >together. I couldn’t complain. Better start climbing, >right? > >For a year and a half- that’s eighteen months all >together; for eighteen months of my damn life she was >my everything. No matter what I did; every breath I >took, every step I walked, and every blink of my eyes >was all centered around her. I did everything for her, >and I guess in some ways it could be said that she >manipulated me. I was wrapped around her little >finger, but this was because I was crazy for her. In >fact, I was more than crazy for her. I was obsessed. > >We were together nearly every hour of every day, and >for a few months there we were actually in love. She >loved me and I loved her, but the problem was that I >didn’t love her. I adored her. Actually, any word >stronger than love could fit into that blank. I >couldn’t necessarily be her stalker being I was with >her twenty-four hours and she was okay with it, but >I’m not quite sure what you would call it. > >She and I fell in love towards about the thirteenth >month. We were head over heels for each other, and >were not afraid to show it. I don’t mean it like we >were doing bad things or anything. It was innocent and >sweet, and never went any further than kissing. Love >doesn’t quite work like a Nicholas Sparks novel, or at >least it doesn’t on the other side. > >I just loved everything about her. Her long blonde >hair, her innocent blue eyes, her beautiful figure, >her carefree personality and love for everything. I’ve >had previous girlfriends, and with each relationship >I’ve seen new things. We spent a good eighteen months >together, but she made me see something that I never >thought existed. Something my divorced parents spoke >about time and time again. I never thought it was >true, but she made me see it. Love had two sides. It >had its good side; the angelic, sweet, innocent part >where everything is great and nothing can go wrong. >But on the flipside, love has its dark side. >Everything on the dark side is depressing and gloomy; >where everything that can go wrong will. Nothing about >anything is positive, and emotions are like a roller >coaster. Some say this side can even be violent. What >do I say to that? Damn right. > >In the middle of our last month, everything was going >great. We were both trapped in quicksand on the happy >side of love, and not one thing could go wrong. >Nothing could go wrong; at least until my phone rang. > >I remember the day like it was yesterday it is still >so clear in my mind. The pain and the agony still >stays in my heart today, and Lord only know when it >will go away if it ever does. I stood in the kitchen >at my own apartment and picked up the phone. I said >hello and she returned the greeting, but my smile soon >faded the minute she uttered the words that I never >wanted to hear. > >“I’m breaking up with you.” > >The words stung. It felt like somebody had just >stabbed me in the heart and pulled it out just as fast >as the knife went in. My heart sank to my stomach, but >while I hoped it was only a dream, it was sheer >reality. > >“I need time away from you. You’ve done nothing but >smother me. Actually, I’ve found someone new.” > >That was her excuse. What a good one, right? She’d met >someone. This meant she met someone who she liked more >than me. Whoever he was, he had something that I >didn’t. That didn’t make me happy at all. I was her >lover, I was her everything. It seemed like a bad >horror movie. > >Since then, I’ve had no reason for living. She was my >reason, she was my reason for everything, and just >like that she left me. In the blink of an eye, in a >heartbeat she was gone. All because of somebody new >she walked out of my life just like that. Oh no, I was >not going to leave it at that. I do not lose; I was >going to get my revenge. Like I said, call me a psycho >or a hopeless romantic, either one fits. You know what >else fits? Psycho. Killer. > >I’d seen her with this new guy a few times, and for >the life of me could not figure out what I was >missing. He was tall, with darker hair than myself and >slightly less built. Not to say I’m a muscleman, but >he wasn’t puny either. I can’t remember his name but >I’m quite sure it began with a D. Up until a few weeks >ago I began not to care about what I was missing. In >my eyes, no matter what he had to go. > >I’d spoken this over with my buddies a few times, but >all of them regard it as a joke. Nobody thinks I would >do this for real; to quote my friend, he said I >wouldn’t have the nerve to do it. Oh boy, was he ever >wrong. > >I stood at her door, with my key in my hand. That’s >right, I had a key to her apartment. That’s what you >get when you’re in love with somebody: a key to the >apartment. After six months I’d figured out how to >make a quiet entrance. Honestly, I never thought it >would ever come in handy for anything other than >surprises, but this was a surprise in itself. My nails >dug into the palm of my hand as I held the bag as >tight as I could. The door opened without a squeak or >a noise to be had, and the rain-shadowed moonlight >began to flood into her darkened living and dining >room. I tiptoed in, hoping my damp boots wouldn’t >squeak on the tile floor just before the carpet. I >shut the door behind me, just as a rumble of thunder >roared its way through the sky. > >The way to her bedroom was just down the hall, and oh >had I made this trek many many times. Her kitchen lay >to the right, and her bedroom a few pace ahead. Her >apartment was quaint; nothing special but it was quite >cozy. I entered the hall like a mouse in the shadows; >I didn’t want to be seen yet I saw my silhouette >dancing on the wall adjacent to me. I was only two >steps away from her bedroom door. I glanced at my >watch. It was 4:16. According to my research, this’d >only take two minutes. He would be dead by the time >the clock struck 4:19. > >Sadly enough, I’d looked this up on the Internet. >After four hours of research I concluded that >suffocation would be the most effective way to kill >him silently. On a whim I found the plastic bag tucked >behind my refrigerator, and I guess it could be said >that on a whim I was here in my ex-girlfriend’s >apartment. At 4:16 AM, I entered her bedroom. > >She lay fast asleep on the left side of her >queen-sized bed. I breathed easy at the site of her; >her hair was draped over her face, and her left arm >hung over the side of the bed. He slept on the right >side, his pillow neatly tucked between his arms as his >body faced the closet. Lucky for me was the first >thought in my head, his head was looking straight up >at the ceiling. > >I inched my way in, this time being more careful in >the bedroom than I was in the hall. It only took three >seconds before I stood beside his sleeping body, an >evil twinkle to my eyes. This was it; this was my >moment. I’d had enough heartbreak and despair for the >past few weeks to last me a lifetime. To me, she had >nothing to do with it. He was the root of all my evil. >He had to die. > >One second later my hands were on his face. The bag >was sandwiched between the two, but all I could do was >smile big with my eyes wide as he flailed his limbs >all about. He dare not move his neck for I had him >pretty good, and within all of his struggling I’d >managed to get the bag over his head. For a quick, >satanic second I thought about all of the warnings on >different types of bags all about children and their >suffocation. At this point, who needed stupid children >to have accidents with perfectly good plastic bags? >Plastic bags were great for killing people with. After >a good few seconds of struggling frantically, it died >down. After what seemed like forever, he’d stopped >moving all together. > >Though inside I knew he was probably dead, I held the >bag on his face for a few moments, sucking any last >bits of joy out of him and into me. I know it sounds >cruel, but this is what the dark side of love is like. >It’s the cold truth; ask anybody who feels the same >way I do and I’m sure they’ll give you the same >answer. I stood there for a few seconds and just >stared. I stared at everything: the room, the dresser, >the way the one silver picture frame on her dresser >looked different without our picture in it. I glared >at him for the longest. In one way, I was shocked that >I’d just gone through with it. On the other side, I >just wanted to keep looking at him and make sure he >was still dead. > >I had a deep feeling that she’d wake up soon. There >was no specific reason, but I remembered when I used >to be in that place next to her. If she had even the >slightest inkling that something was wrong, she would >wake up. She wasn’t a very sound sleeper either. One >could only imagine how thankful I was that he gave me >a silent struggle. > >Once I was sure that he wasn’t just sleeping next to >her, I sighed, satisfied with my job. Not wanting to >leave any evidence, I grabbed my bag, and exited the >room through the same way I’d entered. I trekked the >four building distance back to my car, and as I sat in >the drivers’ seat, my hands shaking from the >adrenaline rush, I glanced at my watch. It was 4:17. I >started the car, and drove off. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |