Ok, so here's my very first post =). Got the urge to write this down last night after fixing up my room and reorganizing a bunch of stuff. It's really strange for me to get into writing my own piece of literature, I just don't really do this kinda thing often. But hopefully it'll become easier for me to do so. I'm mostly a visual art kinda person, I love my paints and drawing pencils, charcoal and all that good stuff. I haven't written any poetry or short stories for my own amusement in a couple years. Anyways, enough with the rant, let me know what you think, comments, positive or negative are both welcomed. I'm a big girl, so hit me with whatever you've got.
Ah, so she had progressed to the shrill voice stage now.
Wonderful.
He pondered, would she soon be stamping her feet, or worse, begin bawling like a small child?
No matter, if this was the way she wanted their last encounter to end, than so be it.
It did nothing but strengthen his resolve.
Leaving this place would be best.
For the both of them.
Her actions merely made her selfishness even more apparent.
Could she honestly say that she had never before noticed the gradual changes in him?
No, she must have been aware.
He couldn't have been that vague.
The longing glances, the deliberate distancing.
The greater lack of response to her cheerfulness.
That one quality of hers had always agitated him.
She was too damn happy for her own good.
It worked in some situations, but he was sick of the way she always expected him to smile for her.
He wasn't one to grin just for another's benefit.
This world is full of enough masks, thank you.
He would give her a real, genuine one when it fit him, not her.
Too bad she was one of those girls who didn't like being denied things.
So she pushed.
Found stupid ways to try and contort him.
But he wouldn't live his life as a piece of clay.
In a really funny way (at least in his mind), she had caused this.
She had pushed him so much, that she had given him the strength to push himself.
And so he moved of his own accord, in a warped way.
Inwardly thanking her.
Maybe, one day, she would be like him.
Maybe, one day, she would understand.
That smiles don't fit in every situation.
And you can't fix everything with a laugh.
So, with all of this in his mind, yet kept hidden in his throat, he once again took advantage of her push.
And as he began to walk again, she ended her tantrum.
It seemed that she was already starting to learn.
He joined the crowd of people already waiting.
Suddenly, the urge to look back overtook him.
He did so, observing her slouching form.
She gazed mournfully, her eyes crinkled, as if in age along with sadness.
And in time with his steps towards the platform, he smiled.
