I wrote this for my English class. I think it's pretty obvious who it
is. I'm working on a second part called Two Feelings From You and it's in
the view of the other person. I might post it here if I can get good
reviews.
One Look In Your Eyes
His beautiful silver eyes are hollow and show no emotion. He doesn't notice me staring at him. I can't help it. His sadness attracts me somehow. Those silver eyes that are usually filled with a deceitful glint, always ready to attack me when I'm vulnerable.
Not in his eyes but in his body motion. Maybe not even that. More like his aurora. A floating sensation around him. A glow, a chill, a……feeling.
I never expected him to feel. That cold-blooded monster. That evil, foul devil. Killing all that's good to me. Making me feel unwanted, unloved. Snapping at me in cold bitterness.
And yet now he seems so angelic, like a criminal reformed. A criminal, still, nobody trusts. A criminal, still, none cares for. A criminal, still, no one loves.
It is then I notice his dead eyes turned on my emerald ones. I try to jerk away but find myself unable to as his piercing gaze holds me. His head tilts slightly as he searches my face. For what, I don't know. I try not to let him get anything off of me but I don't succeed. At least I don't think I do for a triumphant grin flickers on his face before disappearing.
I, too, feel triumph. From getting feeling from him. It wasn't a pleasant one but one all the same. One sometimes I could relate with.
As much as I hate to say it I like his sneers, smirks, and insults better then his emotionless sadness. I wish he would hiss at me or tell me to look away. Tell me to get lost or something. Not just stare. Strange, maybe, by true.
It's funny, in a sad sense. His name, I mean. The meaning of it sadness.
He's not looking at me anymore. I still stare at him, emotions welling up inside of me. How could he be so depressed? He has it all. Money, good looks, popularity, and best of all a family that loves him. Unlike me. I guess I realize that all the anger toward him is jealously as much as I hate to admit it.
My family. The words bring tears to my eyes, which I skillfully hold back but I can't ignore the tightening of my neck and the loud sounds of my gulps. My family. The family that's dead. The family that I never knew. The family that I never talked to about homework or that took me out to play at the park.
Deep breathe. Deep breathe, I tell myself. I struggle to hold back my emotions. The ones I let off at night in the solitude of my own bed, where I'm safe from curious glances. Sometimes I wish everyone would disappear. Most people get that feeling once in a while, but not as strong as mine.
At night, the good times come. I cry. How's that good? I can let my feelings out and not care, for once. Everyone expects me to care so I do. I'm expected to be perfect, only have happy feelings. I don't. I can't control it. No friends. No family. Just admirers. I have the same feelings everyone has. I want, I wait, I get happy, I sigh.
I cry.
One Look In Your Eyes
His beautiful silver eyes are hollow and show no emotion. He doesn't notice me staring at him. I can't help it. His sadness attracts me somehow. Those silver eyes that are usually filled with a deceitful glint, always ready to attack me when I'm vulnerable.
Not in his eyes but in his body motion. Maybe not even that. More like his aurora. A floating sensation around him. A glow, a chill, a……feeling.
I never expected him to feel. That cold-blooded monster. That evil, foul devil. Killing all that's good to me. Making me feel unwanted, unloved. Snapping at me in cold bitterness.
And yet now he seems so angelic, like a criminal reformed. A criminal, still, nobody trusts. A criminal, still, none cares for. A criminal, still, no one loves.
It is then I notice his dead eyes turned on my emerald ones. I try to jerk away but find myself unable to as his piercing gaze holds me. His head tilts slightly as he searches my face. For what, I don't know. I try not to let him get anything off of me but I don't succeed. At least I don't think I do for a triumphant grin flickers on his face before disappearing.
I, too, feel triumph. From getting feeling from him. It wasn't a pleasant one but one all the same. One sometimes I could relate with.
As much as I hate to say it I like his sneers, smirks, and insults better then his emotionless sadness. I wish he would hiss at me or tell me to look away. Tell me to get lost or something. Not just stare. Strange, maybe, by true.
It's funny, in a sad sense. His name, I mean. The meaning of it sadness.
He's not looking at me anymore. I still stare at him, emotions welling up inside of me. How could he be so depressed? He has it all. Money, good looks, popularity, and best of all a family that loves him. Unlike me. I guess I realize that all the anger toward him is jealously as much as I hate to admit it.
My family. The words bring tears to my eyes, which I skillfully hold back but I can't ignore the tightening of my neck and the loud sounds of my gulps. My family. The family that's dead. The family that I never knew. The family that I never talked to about homework or that took me out to play at the park.
Deep breathe. Deep breathe, I tell myself. I struggle to hold back my emotions. The ones I let off at night in the solitude of my own bed, where I'm safe from curious glances. Sometimes I wish everyone would disappear. Most people get that feeling once in a while, but not as strong as mine.
At night, the good times come. I cry. How's that good? I can let my feelings out and not care, for once. Everyone expects me to care so I do. I'm expected to be perfect, only have happy feelings. I don't. I can't control it. No friends. No family. Just admirers. I have the same feelings everyone has. I want, I wait, I get happy, I sigh.
I cry.