Story Corner

I don't know where to start, but once I start talking, it'll get better.

I'm mostly writting to avoid my science homework.

Sooooo........ Um.

Okay, "um" is a stupid word. Who would even think about putting those two letters together to make possibly the most idiotic expression in the world? Surely not me.

................... It's a slow night for my brain tonight. After that racing-mind-slow-reflexes-clarity thing going on last night, it seems like I might be lobotomized today. That's how drastic the difference is. But would I do it again? Yes. Faster than you can say, "Give a cannibal a chance!"

Other than that though, I've got nothing. We had a lock-down in Geometry today, so I didn't get a chance to write notes about my blog like I usually do. So it seems like it might be a good night to continue that short story thing I'm going to do. Here goes, and I'm warning you in advance, you might need to be warned about something. I don't know yet, as I only have the roughest idea of what is going on right now:

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

She let him lean against the outside of her house as she rumaged in her bag for her keys. She had dragged him the whole block--which was a long one--to a little house with a gray exterior and yellow shutters. The yellow shutters really made it, he thought. If they weren't there, the house would be plain and dreary. But the splash of color made it apparent that the people who lived here had a personality.

It was cold, but it felt good blowing against his over heated skin. If he didn't do something soon about his wound, he would catch a fever, compromise his immune system, and eventually would end up dead. Or he could bleed to death. Both meant the same thing, only one was imminent. It was as imminent as the pounding in his head and the sharp blistering in his side. Dragging in deep breaths, he decided to distract himself from the pain.

He said, "Nice shutters."

She paused in her frantic search, but didn't look at him. "Thank you. I painted them myself."

Oh. So she was the one with a personality, specifically. Hmm...that could prove to be interesting. But instead of asking anything further, he saved his breath, which was starting to come faster. He put more weight against the wall at his back.

Triumphantly, she pulled something small and silver out of her bag and put it to the lock. The trouble was, she was shaking so badly, she couldn't line it up with the keyhole. Why was she shaking? Was she cold? Was she afraid to let a complete stranger into her house? Did the sight of blood frighten her? Or could she be upset that he was currently bleeding to death on her front steps? All seemed like viable possibilities.

All he knew was that he didn't like distressing her, even if it was impossible right now not to. He reached out his hand and laid it on her's, steadying it. She was at last able to push the key into the door and turn it. The door swung open, and she stumbled in, dragging him with her.

Silently, she pulled him into the rest of the house, past the mismatched furniture and pulled drapes, past the the cluttered kitchen table and the dusty shelves without hesitation. He wondered why she wasn't concerned about her parents seeing her. She was dragging a boy through their house who had been stabbed in the stomach. It was all kind of suspicious.

They had reached the bathroom, and she pushed him first into the small, cramped room. She gently put pressure on his shoulders so that he would sit on the edge of the bathtub. He gritted his teeth against the pain and bent his knees to comply. He looked around, unable to keep himself from taking in the room.

It was small and cramped, like he had originally seen. The tiles on the floor where dull, the cracks turning yellow with age. The tub was cracked and gray, and there was a rust ring around the drain. Everything that had once been new and sparkling were no longer so in the slightest. But at least it was clean, and it smelled like honeysuckel.

His attention was suddenly snapped back when he felt her place her fingers under his chin and on his cheek. She turned his head this way and that, inspecting him in the dim light with cool professionalism. But her clammy hands gave away her nervousness. They still slightly trembled, and he wanted to reach up and put his hand over her's. But in a moment he discarded the idea. He didn't even know why he had thought of it in the first place.

He blinked, realizing too late that she had said something, and he had completely missed it while lost in his thoughts. All he could do was stare at her blankly.

She sighed. "I asked you if you had any other injuries."

He mulled it over, trying to decide whether or not he should mention his sprained ankle. Finally he said, "Nothing serious."

She frowned, but didn't push him. Instead she said, "I'm going to go get some bandages and stuff to patch you up. Will you be okay while I'm gone.

He nodded. She exited the room. The smell of honeysuckle left with her.

He let his mind wander while she was gone. He wondered again where her parents where. Where they in the house, in another room? Or were they gone, at work or out shopping or something along those lines. He thought that maybe he should check a couple of the rooms, so that he would know which ones to avoid. Or that was the reason he told himself he was doing it. His nagging curiousity was screaming something entirely different.

As he rose from his perch on the bathtub, he sighed, secretly admitting his true motives. He was curious about her. About how she lived and who she was. What kind of a person took in some random person off the streets, who looked like he was involved in violence, because he had a gaping hole in his side.

Then he remembered the gaping hole in his side, and the pain came rushing back. Funny, but it had disappated while his mind wasn't so intently focused on it. But now it was worse than ever, and he could hardly breath. Maybe he shouldn't go exploring.

But then again, his curiousity was peaked. Once that happened, there was no going back. He took a deep breath and braced himself, standing.

Carefully, he stepped out of the bathroom, looking from one side to the other for her. He didn't want to be caught snooping, after all that she had done for him, and all that she would still do for him....

What she will do.......

He snapped back to his task and took a step forward.

The first door he openned was to a large master suite. The bed was unmade, and dirty laundry was strewn across the floor. There were distinctly feminine clothes and decidedly masculine ones, and he concluded this must be her parents' room. The color palet was drab, mostly done in whites and creams. Everything was simplistic and kitchy. Once he spotted the lace curtains hung on the windows, he decided he was done looking at this room. He closed the door.

The next door he turned to was a closet. He wasn't that interested; it was full of faded linens. He moved on to the next door.

Before he openned it, he just knew it was her's. This was her room. He hesitated. What if it was wrong of him to be looking. He didn't know her, and he had absolutely no right. But the temptation was too great. Taking a deep breath, he prayed that she didn't have lace curtains as well, and let the door slowly creak open.

It was much more than he had expected. There were colors everywhere, the predominant ones sunny yellow and deep blue. He blinked, looking around slowly, taking it all in. Just like the rest of her house, her room was untidy. But it wasn't dirty, not in the slightest. That intoxicating flowery smell was even stronger in here. There were piles and piles of books piled up against her walls, corner to corner. Her furniture was futuristic, but everything was covered in little orange sticky notes. On the notes were tiny scribbles, indiciferable from this distance. Dare he move closer to read some? Just as he had made up his mind to do so, someone cleared their throat behind him.

He whirrled around, and instantly regretted the motion. And as soon as his mind wasn't preoccupied anymore, the pulsing throb was back. He gasped, but held himself together. Barely.

She was frowning, but not in a completely displeased way. It was like she was wondering what on earth he was doing looking in her room, like she had no idea of why he would even want to. Wait. How was he gleaming so much from one look, one expression? He couldn't, not usually. He shook his head, trying to make the image of her saying those thoughts aloud from fly from his head. All the while she was watching him, her frown becoming even deeper.

He had the impulse to apologize, right then and there. To beg her to forgive him for being to rude after she had been kind to him. To explain the draw he felt to get to know her. And he was about to when she stepped closer to him, taking his arm. She slung it over her shoulder and helped him back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Then she sat him back on the tub, without a word about the whole insident. He wasn't fooled, though; the subject would come up later, he was sure. In fact, he was surprised it wasn't coming up now, in the form of angry shouting and throwing him back outside. That's what any normal, sane person would have done if they had caught some guy off the streets in their room.

He was just beginning to understand that she wasn't normal, and very possibly wasn't sane, not completely. She was like no other person he had met...

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

That was the second installment in the story that I have yet to come up with a name for. Actually, I haven't even come up with names for the characters yet. I thought that maybe if I left them nameless, it would be more versitile for all of the many, many (4? If I'm lucky) people who read this. But now I'm starting to see that they need names. So, if you would like to submit a name..... please Please PLEASE! feel free to leave some suggestions in the comment box. Really, guys. Don't be afraid to comment. I want your critisizm. No, really. REALLY. I do mean it.

Thanks for reading!!!! (P.S. Jessi: fix your ipod and leave a comment. Don't ask questions, just do it. Love you too. :^D)