Paying Attention
Author: miserysayhello && me && I.
Summary: ONESHOT. Reflections on a blog.
Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars but I got Season 1 from BORDERS two days ago. :)
A/N: I wrote this for a creative writing class I recently took. It's a one-shot. And the way I wrote it's supposed to leave a lot of unanswered questions.
Blog
n . pl. bl-og or web blog.
1. an online journal or diary, also known as a "weblog".
It's amazing how certain events can alter the course of history. How tying your shoes can determine the rest of your day, your life. Because in the possible minute or so it takes you to bend down and make sure that the loop is tied, that the little bunny gets around the tree, anything could happen. Whilst you were bending down a man could have mugged an old lady and you, with your face to your shoes, wouldn't have seen a single thing. Or as you tie your sneakers, a teenager with nothing to live for could be jumping off the bridge 10 feet from you yet you wouldn't notice. You'd have your head down near the ground, intent on your running shoes.
But does that make you selfish? That could be a question running through your mind as you lift your head from your Nikes to see a little boy get his headshot off in a drive by. In that moment, as the screams from the little tyke's mother are heard, you wonder if maybe you hadn't been so preoccupied with your damn shoes you would have noticed the old suspicious looking car driving up to the little boy and his big brother. You might have seen the drug deal go on in which the customer wasn't satisfied. Or see the big brother begin to argue and all hell breaking loose. Maybe just maybe you could have prevented the blood bath.
But as fate would have it, in such a way put, you didn't. You saw none of it, tied those brand new shoes, readjusted your iPod and continued your run. Funny how life can past you by when your aren't paying attention.
"Veronica…sweetie…it's time to go."
A young girl of sixteen looks away from her online journal and towards her father who is waiting by her bedroom door. He has her coat in hand. Black. Everything seems to be that color now. She stares long and hard at the jacket, taking in its lines and curves. Its smooth silver buttons. She becomes almost entranced by it. Getting lost in its dark pools. She doesn't even realize she's begun to cry again.
"Veronica…sweetie…"
Eyes become focused once again, the glazed look gone. She wipes away the small tears that have threatened to fall and tries to give her father a small smile.
"Yes, daddy?"
"We really have to get going, honey."
The girl nods and turns back to her computer. She slowly moves the mouse towards the send button and the computer begins to load the journal entry. She then gets up and gradually moves towards the door and waiting father. She accepts the coat and slips it on. Black on black. Like fading silhouettes the two leave the apartment.
The computer still left on, had finally loaded the entry and the words were spread across the screen. Down towards the bottom read one sentence.
Wallace and Darrell Fennels' funeral will be held at 1:00pm. If you knew either of them, please go.
Comment? Angry Rioting? Let me know.