Hey…
I saw this movie, it was amazing by the way, anyways the movie was called Thirteen and at the beginning, those who have seen the movie will know what I am talking about, there is this poem that the character, Tracey reads out and I have had it stuck in my head ever since I last saw the movie. So I typed up the poem, and then this story kinda flowed out. Albeit the first draft had quite a few spelling mistakes as the 'c' key had fallen off my laptop keyboard and half the nail on my right thumb had fallen off making it incredibly hard to type, and then to top it all of, I thought I had forgotten the password that I had used to save the document and was in the middle of typing it up again (I had printed it off) when I suddenly remembered the password…
Finally here it is…
Oh yeah it's a bit disjointed, but I like that effect because it is every ones' thoughts and thoughts tend to be disjointed…
Bek
p.s oh yeah and please review you can even say nasty things, although unless you really mean them, please don't…
He was crippled
But only his body was cracked
It's not simple
Nor is it an easy matter to explain
Let's just leave it at that she says
And Closes the holy book of lies
She covers her eyes
Denying to herself
What she thought happened
Thirteen, 2003
Thought of him flashed through her mind as she ran her hands up the smooth skin underneath her.
Why did she always think of him at the moments when she had just thought she had forgotten him?
She dug her nails into the back that was underneath her, pushing all her frustration into him.
She wanted many things, but most of all she wanted to be able to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him. It wasn't fair, but neither was life. Sometimes when the nightmares got really bad, all she wanted was for him just to be there. For him to be there with her.
It had been three months since 'it' happened and Summer was concerned about her friend, Marissa was going out every night getting drunk, hell she didn't wait until night to get drunk, she was drunk by 6 in the morning. But that wasn't all, this time Marissa had gone further, she had started using sex as a drug, Summer was pretty sure that Marissa had more sex in the past 6 weeks then she did in her entire 18 years before that, what's more is that every time, or almost every time it was with a different guy.
It had been 6 long months and she still couldn't forget that night, it had been her fault, she had been the one to crash the car. She had been the one to wrap the Range Rover around a tree. She had been the drunken one, not him. She had seen his injured body on the ambulance gurney and then she had seen his lifeless body lying in the hospital bed. They had told her that he was alive, that he still had brain activity, that is was only his body that was injured. But she knew, somehow she knew that he would never wake up. And she was right, the fucking doctors had been wrong.
No one understood, drinking and sex, that was just a way for her to escape, when she was drunk, when she was with some random guy there was nothing else involved, she didn't have to think of Him. When she was drunk everything was hazy, everything was beautiful. She could forget everything, AND she could sleep. That's the thing she was sure no one else understood was the fear of sleeping, the fear of the nightmares that might come if you dared to fall asleep, the monsters that would come and get you.
She looked over at the newspaper clipping that was normally hid in her sock drawer:
18-year-old Ryan Atwood (pictured, left) died last night, after being severely injured when the Range Rover he was the passenger in, collided with a tree, late last Friday night. The driver was an unnamed 18 year old girl, who has since been charged with driving under the influence.
She didn't bother to read on, she knew what the rest of the article said, it just talked about his injuries and his family. She also knew she was referred to as the unnamed 18-year-old girl for the whole article. That was the only advantage of being Caleb Nichol's step-daughter. With trembling hand she ripped up that newspaper article she didn't need to be reminded of that awful week, all the days, all the weeks she though had been bad, they were nothing compared to that week. She didn't even notice the tears that were streaking her pale, drawn face as she fell to her knees.
Kirsten knocked on the white door. This would be the first time she had seen Marissa since the funeral, and although it was going to be hard, she knew she had to do it. Marissa hadn't answered her bedroom door, so Kirsten gently pushed it open, only to be greeted by the site of a very pale, skinny, sick looking teenager convulsing with tears, all crumpled up on the floor surrounded by the shreds of some newspaper clipping.
Kirsten couldn't help feeling sorry for the broken child. The girl might have caused pain for many others, but looking at the shadowy figure on the floor, Kirsten saw that the girl had felt all that pain herself. She knew Marissa had been through enough. Marissa had out herself through enough.
Kirsten walked over to Marissa and half helped; half dragged her over to her bed and held her while her thin body shook.
"I need to see him" Marissa sobbed into the older woman's shoulder. Kirsten blinked away her own tears and continued holding her stepsister.
Marissa was lost, and every one knew it.
E/N so that was it, what did you think? Was it ok, I am not really sure so let me know… oh yeah and it does take place over a period of time.
