Story Corner

Every once in a while I have this itching in my brain that can only be satisfied by uncontrolled, continuous writing. Even blogging a regular entry can't satisfy that craving. So for when this happens, I've created a little segment (that turns out to be not so little most of the time) called Story Corner. So hold on; I'm not sure what you're about to read. (WARNING: the following story may or may not contain facts taken from real life experiences. Just saying.)

(Oh, and WARNING: Since I'm a girl, I have romantic tendancies. This story will probably contain a cute guy. If you're a guy reading this, well, you might not want to read this.)

..............

The stinging wind pricked her face and fingers as she opened the door and left the warm lights of the school building behind. Adjusting the shoulder strap on her bag, she turned toward home and set out at a brisk walk. It was cold, as it should be at the end of November, and there were small piles of snow, the first of the year. The skies were overcast with clouds, buy not in an ominous way. They were more like a blanket covering her, and the effect made her feel slightly drowsy. Although it was not past four in the afternoon, everything was bathed in a white-blue light, like the kind right before dusk. It muted the colors of everything it touched in a comforting way.

As she walked, she let herself be lulled into a sort of trance, sinking into her mind with the help of the constant repetitive motion. Right, left, right, left, right, left..... Just the thudding of her feet accompanied her on her walk, until it sinked with her heart beat as well.

She watched as a pile of leaves was caught up and turned into a small tornado. Some stuck in her hair, and she made no movement to pick them out. Enjoying the weather, she walked to the end of the block, humming some distantly familiar tune under her breath. She could see the crosswalk, only eight steps away from her, and she picked up her pace, eager to cross before and cars came.

As she passed under the last tree on the block, the remainder of its leaves decided to fall on her all at once, sailing down in a large torrent. Surprised, she swiped the air with her hands until she could see again. Looking down, she saw the huge pile of leaves at her feet. She was submerged in them up to her knees. She glanced back up at the naked branches above her head, and as she moved her head, a rush of leaves tumbled off of her head. She realized that they were all over her, everywhere.

She started to brush herself off, disentangling brown paper-like foliage and dropping it at the mess below her. Un-weaving them from her hair and coat, she thought about the slim chances of something like what had just occurred happening. The timing of it all was a little eerie.

Almost done freeing herself from the constricting leaves, she turned back the direction she had been going and stopped dead. In front of her, two streets down, someone was standing, watching her, casually leaning on a tree. Uneasily, she glanced around, and for the first time she realized how deserted everything looked, without any people walking the sidewalks parallel to hers. No cars drove by, and all of the windows in nearby houses were dark. There was no one to help her.

She shook herself; she was jumping to conclusions too quickly. It wasn't deserted. That guy was two streets away. He was somebody, wasn't he? But she still felt restless. It was peculiar that he was there, especially when no one else was. But that didn't mean he meant her any harm.

All of these thoughts didn't stop her senses from sharpening, however, as she took her first steps toward the mysterious guy. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, making her hyper aware of the way her breath billowed into a pool in the frosty air. She suddenly felt the sting of the wind that she had been unaware of before. And she took note of how her eyes were gradually adjusting to the fading light of dusk. She was alone. And he was alone. And she was getting closer and closer to where he stood....

The closer she came, the more she could see of him. He wasn't scary in the the sense of the word. It didn't look like he liked to mug people or get into gang fights. But there was something about him. Maybe the way he held his shoulders, or maybe the dark circles under his eyes that accentuated the darkness of his coloring. He had black hair, black eyes, and as if to counter all of that, his skin was as pale as the snow piled in the yards around them. He was handsome, if not worn by exhaustion. But she found it hard to concentrate on looking at him because he was boring so intently at her face, she couldn't hold his gaze for very long. And she didn't want to.

Closer and closer she came, until she was three yards away. Keeping her head low, she picked up her pace, hoping that he wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't ask her her name or where she lived... Oh god. What if he followed her home? Crossing her fingers against it, she plowed on.

But it was only a few steps before she was stopped short. Looking at the ground in front of her, she saw two sneakered feet planted firmly. Lifting her eyes slowly to his face, her heart thumped erratically with fear. He was blocking her way. Something bad was going to happen.

For a long time he didn't say anything, and the anxiety knotting in her stomach grew. What exactly did he mean to do to her? Should she say something?

Clearing her throat, she asked, "Um, excuse me. Would you mind moving?"

He didn't say a word. But he didn't need to; his eyes spoke for him as they grew wide and darker. She gulped and started to back away. He hadn't exactly done anything threatening, but his intensity was starting to scare her all on its own. Maybe he was insane. It was better to remove herself from the situation.

She was about to turn away when a raspy voice said, "Wait."

She stopped. She exhaled in a cloud of fog that drifted toward him. As it reached him and touched his out-stretched fingers, he stumbled. Reaching his hand out to the tree, he caught himself, but not before his jacket could fall open. She gasped at what was revealed.

A scarlet stain stretched across his stomach in a violent gash. The shirt was torn where the sharp object had penetrated it. Underneath the fabric she could see a raw wound, still oozing blood. She gasped.

"Oh my god! Here, let me help you." She rushed over and pulled his arm around her shoulders, to try and support him. That was why his stance had been so strange; it was amazing that he could have stood upright that long with a wound this big.

He resisted her efforts at first, but after only a few seconds of struggling, he accepted her help. Somehow he managed to pull it off so that it looked like they were a couple strolling down the sidewalk instead of a girl dragging a mortally wounded boy to her house on a frosty evening. She wondered why he was even trying. She hobbled with him, glad that her house was only about a block away.

"Just hold on a little while longer. My house isn't that far away, and once we get there, I'll call an ambulance." She was a little winded, but she managed to make her words sound sure.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he tensed. "No. No hospitals. No--" he broke off to clutch his side. Finally, he recovered himself and finished, "No ambulances."

She tried not to let her irritation and confusion show. "Why not?"

"I just--" He gasped. "No. Just no."

She bit her lip and tightened her grip on his arm. Quickening her pace just a little bit, she claimed her revenge for his vague answers. She knew it was spiteful, but she wasn't walking fast enough to really hurt him.

Before this could go on for very long, however, he said, "Please. Trust me."

She stopped, turning to him. "I don't even know you."

He was managing to stay upright by himself, for the moment at least. He looked into her eyes and said the last thing she had ever expected him to say. "But you will."

She was sure she was frowning. Maybe that was why he did it. Maybe he was trying to console her, or let her know that she could trust him. But whatever the motive behind the gesture, it took her completely by surprise.

He reached out and took her hand.

But what surprised her even more was that she didn't pull away, at least not right away.

After a few seconds, she nodded and took his arm again, pulling him down the street toward her house.

...................

I like this story. Maybe I'll make it into a novella. Maybe.

Tell me what you guys think. Don't be afraid to comment; that's what the comment box is there for. Tell me if you want to know what happens. Thanks for reading.

--Kacie Renn