Sand Castles Built With Water
whereitallbegins
It's silver chimes clanged against each other nicely, the sound echoing off, following the breeze. It rang perfectly against each other, the melodic ringing turned into a symphony of sound, sound that was overlooked and never mentioned.
With his dark blue eyes, he watched from his Brooklyn apartment's balcony, exploring the little kids running around with their melting ice cream cones, the worn out parents as they pushed along the full strollers that their friends insisted they keep. He licked his cherry-red lips and again brought the cold bottle of Budlight that he nursed to his dry mouth again. He clenched his teeth and downed it's contents, not exactly caring anymore. In fact... He thought he stopped caring months ago.
Fact: He hadn't.
-:-
There was the deafening sound of the roaring, tumultuous waves that crashed against each other violently. They brought down the people who attempted to ride along their edges, and yet at night, they made everything seem tranquil and secure again. It gleamed against the morning sun and the night moon beautifully, a usual cliché in a teenage romance plot, yet it was one of life's greatest mysteries.
With her pianist slender fingers gripping onto her inky Pilot pen, she watched as the ocean's sparkle blinded so many other beings that were wading along the shore. They all shaded their faces with their hands, and yet, she never had the heart to turn away from the ocean and it's vast, dark blue qualities that she had come to adore and crave. But it wasn't just that she craved; she longed for a new beginning, an adventurous middle and a blissful ending. But so far, she had discovered that the closest thing to pure happiness was the quiet demands of the beach.
Fact: She didn't know that real happiness was waiting for her in New York.
-:-
They squealed, they were loud and raucous and they always had hands that were sticky; from jam or syrup or some other sticky substance. And yet, they were one of the world's most fascinating creatures; they never did care what everyone else thought and they would always have fun. They had the biggest imaginations and the biggest hearts. They made friends easily; it wasn't hard to talk to the opposite gender, not at all.
He stared at his black Nikes, his eyes hard and glassy. He sighed heavily and lowered his head into his palms. He was tired, yet again. He's been tired so many times recently. It was never the lack of sleep; he had enough of that to lead him awake for the next two weeks. He was missing something in his life. He was missing her. Where was she? What was she doing? Why was she gone? Would she ever come back?
Fact: He knew the answer to all these questions. He just didn't want to believe them.
-:-
It would ruffle the leaves of the palm trees. It whistled low and it whistled high, and it was one of the many favorite features of the California state. It blew the lightest of things away. It created a simple pattern of silent bliss. It was easily fallen into, much like love. It was there—you could feel it brushing against you, pushing against gravity. It went free, free like a bird, weaving through and around people.
She stood against the foaming tides, letting them wash over her feet. She wiggled her toes between the grainy sand, her feet sinking deep into it's softness. She held onto the amethyst-colored bottle tightly, her eyes shut. She moved one step closer, and then another, and then another, until she was knee deep in ocean water. It rocked her gently, but she went along with it. It was her own personal lullaby, lulling her to a gentle, quiet slumber. She breathed in the salty beach air and withdrew her arm back as far as she could. With all her might, she chucked the bottle into the air—circling restlessly in the battering wind—and watched as it splashed into the California ocean and bobbed endlessly. Her blond brows pulled down, causing creases on her forehead.
Fact: She knew it was going to reach him.
-:-
They were used to say so many things. They had more than one meaning behind them. So many labels; adjectives, verbs, pronouns. They painted pictures in your head and they gave you so much to think about. They're universal; used everywhere, whether it be in English or Japanese. Used to express; used to remember. Although simple and overlooked, they were one of the world's most important tools. With loops and hearts and swirls; plain and cursive; tiny, scrawly, italicized, huge. So many options used to say so many thoughts.
Dear Harris,
What happened to us? Where did we go? Why did we disappear?
I needed you Harris. I needed you so much. And I saw it in your eyes; you needed me, too. You didn't want me to go. But how the hell was I supposed to stay when you told me to leave? I was just listening to what you wanted Harris.
But why didn't you care about what I wanted? Why didn't you look at me?
We would've been so perfect for each other, Harris. But see, the thing is, we both need to believe that. We both need to believe that we're perfect for each other. But you never did. You were always so hesitant with the word love. You said it, and I believe that you meant it, but you never thought we would last, did you? You thought I was going to run away; you thought I was going to leave you; you thought I was going to realize that you weren't good enough for me.
But see, the thing is, Harris, I never ran.
You did. And you cowered. In fear. 'Cause even if you didn't want to hear it, you were afraid.
Of falling. Of getting hurt.
Well, Harris, let me ask you: Now that I'm not with you, aren't you hurt?
If you aren't, it's a shame. 'Cause I am.
I love you, Harris. I won't ever stop.
Claire
an: i bet none of you guys suspected that one, eh? xD well, yes, this is a "clarris", a claireXharris. tashie, dear, i know how much you love crack! pairings, and this is as crack!y as it gets :) so, yes, this is for olive and tash:)
disclaimed, much? :)
hey, go and nominate on the Unofficially Officially Annual Clique Fanfic Awards! :D
review?
love,
americka:)