NOTES: Ok so this is my first story. I have never put anything out there so I would like to know if it is total crap or not. I would be eternally grateful if you would please review and let me know what you think no matter how bad it may be. Thank You and I hope you enjoy the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, characters, or poetry. The poem is "Richard Cory" by Edwin Arlington Robinson.
She just could not seem to escape him. No matter where she went she saw him. To her he was quiet literally everywhere. But then again he did have to make his rounds. That had always been a big thing to him. Appearances. Masks. Walls. Acts. He was protected by a barbed wire fence and some alloy too. He was seemingly perfect to all that he saw. And now he saw her.
After all it is pretty hard to not see the person whom you seemingly lived to annoy. She even sat in front of him in nearly all of their classes. Three years of it though and even you barely notice anymore. His smile is not as bright and his steps not quiet as light. But no one sees that, well except her. Suddenly she feels a little tug on her pony tail but she ignores it. He'll go away, he always does. She turns her full attention back to the book she's been meaning to read.
It's a book of poetry. Well its more like a journal of poetry. A compellation of poems written by various American poets. It's one of her favorites. She finishes Robert Frost's "Fire and Ice" and moves on to another poem:
Whenever Richard Cory went down town
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown.
Clean favored, imperially slim
The bell rang signaling the end of the class. And she slowly gathered up her things as everyone bustled out of the suddenly chaotic room. Out of the corner of her eye she sees him leave. Surrounded by his followers. They hang from his arms and surround him as he tells another tale of a party he went to. The girls all drool and the guys all listen attentively. They hope to get a few tips from him. They hope for him to reveal to them how exactly he charms all the women he knows to bed or how he always seems to command everyone's attention. They follow, with no idea of what they may be lead into or care for that matter.
She's quiet disgusted by it all, as she always is. She finals has her stuff together and she can leave for another night in her quite small town. The town where she is safe from her schools crowned king. He can never get her there. And she loves that. Its her escape. But its always over too quickly and before she even realizes she's at the gates for another day in her massive school.
She begins her walk to class when the blaring of loud music brings her attention to a new car coming in behind her. Its shinny and flashy and over priced. Its everything she's not. And also everything he is. And just as she figures this out he comes out of the drivers side. His golden locks glittering in the morning sun and his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, but only for just a moment. He quickly throws them back into his car. After all his eyes are a big part of his appeal, and he knows it. He has those eyes that haunt you. They're the inhumanly bright shade of blue that's so deep that you could loose yourself for days in them.
As always a crowd quickly surrounds him, and a teacher breaks through to once again warn him about his loud music. Again nothing new as he even charms the teacher. Again she is disgusted by this. She quickly leaves and heads to her locker putting her head phones back on. Moments after her arrival at her locker who should show up but him. He teases her again calling her Mary and such but she tired today and apparently so is he because their usual banter lasts for less than a minuet this time. And again he walks away stopping periodically to talk to various people. She looks after him as he goes.
And he was always quietly arrayed.
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
Of course they have classes together again. They always do. Its like an unwritten rule that she must suffer through at least two classes a day with him. Well that's on her easy day and that was yesterday. Today she has four classes with him. And again he's just made it in the class as the bell is ringing. His hair mused slightly and his lips a peculiar shade of red. Defiantly not a natural tone. Not on him and not on the random girl that he acquired it from. Yep today is defiantly Thursday. Finally he manages to get to his seat. And of course again he is right behind her. Yup luck has always been on her side. Ok well not exactly but it was always on his apparently, she noticed as their last quizzes are passed back. She got another 98, not bad certainly, but not perfect. But again he got another 100. Luck must defiantly be a lady cause she's got a thing for him. Well she hopes lucks a lady in that case.
Classes drag by and its not until lunch that she gets another escape from him. She's still the solitary eater, preferring her books and music to the mindless drabble of the majority of her classmates. She's got her table all to herself.
He was never a solitary eater. His table is packed to the absolute max. He sits with his crowd of friends in the middle of the table of course. He has people fawning over him. He has friends crowding him and asking him insane questions. He has girls trying to get his attention and trying not to eat any of the food that is tempting them. After it's a table with teenage guys and there's soo much food. But the girls will do no more than steal wanting gazes at it as they fight to get his attention. If only for just a moment.
She sits and ignores it all. She sits in her world of 80's rockers and 16th century novels oblivious.
And he was rich? Yes. Richer than a king?
And admirably schooled in every grace;
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place
She doesn't see his longing gaze. She doesn't see his face as she gets up and leaves with not so much as a glance in his direction. She doesn't see that his armor is cracking. She might see he is different but she ignores it.
Two periods later and school is again dismissed. She's on her bus home and she's free again. Free for another night in her small town. She's free and safe at least for the night. She finally makes it home and through an hour of catching up with Lorelia over dinner at Luke's before she realizes that she left her journal of poems at school, in her locker. Lorelia is done for the day so she takes the jeep back. She hurries through the streets hoping to get back for her movie night. She's missed so many of them lately.
She makes it to the gates in one pieces despite what the police officer had said when he pulled her over for speeding. She was lucky he let her off with a warning, but that doesn't matter now. Cause she's only a minuet from her precious book when she notices something off. She's not alone. By all rights she should be because its now well after school has been out. Its even well after the sports teams are done and the meetings of clubs are adjourned, yet there is still someone else here. A flashy someone else by the look of the car. She brushes the thought aside and runs in to get her book. Unfortunately her locker is near the end of the hall and right by the doors to the football stadium and it's a long walk. It doesn't take too long though and she's about to rush back when she decides to go out to the field.
Its actually a very calming place when no ones here. She climbs up the stands and sits at the top where she is just a speck that's overlooking everything. She likes it up here its breezy and comfortable. As she finally looks to the field she sees who else is here. There's a blonde boy standing where the fifty yard line is. Well he was standing there a moment ago before he fell. She rushes down the stairs and onto the field. He may be her tormentor but she isn't heartless. As she arrives she is horrified by the sight that greats her. He's laying there with blood dripping from his abdomen and a gun lying beside him. He looks up and sees her there. She's reaching for her cell phone and dialing 911. She's frantic and she scared. She speaking quickly to the operator and crying hysterically by now. She takes off her white sweater and puts it over the wound apply pressure as gently as she can to stop the bleeding. He watches her for a while before finally daring to speak to her but she doesn't let him. She simply tells him that he will be alright and that he can talk later he needs to save his energy and hold on.
So on we worked , and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
Later she sat by his side in his hospital room. She was his only visitor and he didn't want her to call anyone else. She had of course wanted to call his parents. He informed her that they were in some tropical paradise and they frankly wouldn't give a fuck, but she had persisted. And he was right. They told her to give him there regards and that they hoped he would be well soon. They also said they were glad to hear her voice again. They said they were very disappointed in their son for ever letting a Gilmore girl go. They spoke of he as a prize and she despised it and for the first time realized how he might feel.
They had dated for two years, Tristan and Rory. And they had been doing well for a while but she got tired. She got tired of the masks, and the appearances and all of the things of that sort. So she got out and the only way she could do that was to leave him. She was invisible and good at it, as long as she wasn't with him. So she had left him, her first everything and never wanted to think about it again. He was hurt and she was upset that he couldn't understand and somehow it all lead back to the way things used to be. The Tristan that made out with different girls all the time and didn't give a shit about them. The reclusive Rory who only minded her business. They slipped back into their banter and it was almost as if they had never gone out in the first place. The only real difference was that she knew what was under his mask and she still cared and he knew she did and so they were both bitter. So much so that there banter wasn't ever playful. It was mean and it was meant to be. Insults that truly stung now because they were delivered by the one person who truly knew them.
And now here they were. He had shot himself and she was at his hospital bed.
"Are you ever going to tell me why you decided to do it?" She asked sometime after daybreak. Finally break hours of silence.
"Are you sure you want to know?" he replied bitterly, angrily.
"Will you just tell me already." she too was angry now.
"Fine. I was tired. Just like you. I was tired of the acts. So I had to figure out a way to get out. Obviously I couldn't just do what you did and break it off so I took the only way that I could. I wanted to get out so I tired to end it. Are you satisfied? Have you finally quenched your thirst for knowledge yet?" he was angry and bitter and he wanted her to know it and know it was no mistake.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you but I just couldn't stand it any longer. It wasn't as easy as it used to be especially after you were out of my life." He quietly admitted. He was so quiet in fact that she thought that he might not have even said it but she decided to quietly acknowledge what he had said. They sat and talk for many more hours and tried to work over their issues trying to salvage the wreckage that was their lives.