Home Games All LiteraryClubs Events Forums Green Room Poetry Prose Roleplays

Scars That Never Heal

niccy_v · 2008-07-18T14:08:17Z

Updated 25 November Now all edits below been incorporated into it to my liking. This is only Chapter One. It is slightly different, and this is merely an opening of introducing everything so no big expectations of a plot bursting out of here okay? ** The book smelled aged, and a cloud of stale air – trapped when the last person opened it – rose into the air and dissolved into nothing. But I liked this smell; it gave me a sense of a treasured gift, like Grandpa Brown’s journals from the war and his travels through Paris, Egypt and America in his youth. Setting the book aside I pulled four thick encyclopaedias from the top shelf, each with leather covers embossed in gold writing, the letters tilted in italics. The year on the front of the first read '1920'. I opened it halfway and began reading the old, faded text, and was mid sentence when somebody tapped me on the shoulder. “Jess? Why are you at a library on such a glorious day?” Bryn, the single man I loved, also the certain for basketball captain next year, grinned down at me, pushing his thick blonde fringe from his fiercely brown eyes. I tried not to swoon when he pecked my forehead, his lips warm on my skin. “Um, just looking through some old books on the German Wars.” “Instead of eating lunch? It’s like half past twelve!” He smiled even wider, glancing at the seat beside me. “Is that taken?” “Yes, yes it is actually,” Drew snapped, appearing behind Bryn with an armful of books on Hitler. He dumped them onto the desk in front of me and sighed, then sunk into the empty seat. Bryn grimaced at the sight of Drew, and quickly glanced over his shoulder, already searching for an exit. “Don’t let me keep you here Bryn,” I said after peering at his desperate face. He hated libraries, but I knew he only wanted to check in on me to make sure Drew hadn’t tried anything funny, so I didn’t press the issue when he shook his head, his eyes glancing around for a quick escape. “Bryn mate? You coming or what?” One of his mates, Chris, called from across the library, making his face soften. His exit had arrived. Saved. “I best be off baby, but are we still on for tonight?” His eyes sparkled with hope, matching his wavy blonde bangs framing his chiselled jaw, and I found myself gazing up at them. He pressed me closer to him and Drew made a choking sound we both ignored. “Sure thing. Six thirty, right?” “Absolutely. Is it all right if there’s booze? A few of my mates want to let loose, with school being so goddamn difficult.” I smiled bleakly, but squeezed his hand. Usually if his mates drank, he joined in, and a drunken Bryn meant wandering hands, casual conversation trying to lead to places I normally did not want to go. But I shrugged anyway, returning his hopeful smile, too afraid to dampen his easy-set mood. “You’re amazing baby.” He pecked my cheek. “Have I told you how much I love you?” He reached down and pulled me up so we were eye level, making a big show of kissing me until I was breathless. He then gently touched his lips to mine, waiting until I relaxed against him before kissing me properly. I enjoyed the feel of his tongue in my mouth, the pressure of his firm body against mine, the gentle fuzz on his upper lip. When Drew slammed the book he was reading closed and stomped away fuming. I wound my arms around Bryn’s neck and sighed, enjoying the onslaught of sensory delight one of his passionately soft kisses brought crashing down upon me like a wave, but it was invited. I wouldn’t mind being drowned by this boy. He could kill me for all I cared at that perfect moment. “I love you baby. Never forget that, okay?” He reluctantly placed me back to my feet but wouldn’t release me yet, his eyes wider and brooding. “'Kay. I won’t forget.” I accepted his parting kiss gladly, unable to close my eyes or look away, forcing them to remain wide open, even when it ached. Bryn was worth it, just the beauty of him made weak with desire. “Bryn! Dude, the bus leaves in five! Hurry up!” Chris shouted, joined by another, unfamiliar, voice repeating his words perfectly. “Gentlemen, please be quiet!” a librarian hissed, and the huddle of boys lingering at the end of the row of shelves rolled their eyes when I peered around Bryn’s side to poke my tongue out. Bryn glanced over his shoulder again, and when he turned back, I could see he was already gone, off in his world of basketball, holding that glazed, satisfied look which could fill his whole body until he was no longer thinking of anybody or anything except that ball and basket. “I’ll pick you up at six thirty, maybe take a quick detour before hitting the party?” “Sure. I love you.” “Good.” He kissed me softly, gently, dreamily. With a squeeze he released me, turned, offering a curt nod of the head toward Drew, now lingering at the edge of the nearest aisle, for my part, and strode off toward his friends. Drew cleared his throat as he returned to the desk. “Safe to come out I ‘spose?” “Don’t be so silly,” I snapped, but one look at his face and I could not stop myself from laughing. He opened the book crowning his pile, specialising on how to keep a competition horse fit. Silence filled the small space between us, but no words of comfort could come to my lips. So he began instead. “Look, I know he’s your boyfriend and all, but he acts like he owns the place.” “Let’s not get into this again Drew.” “Sorry, but he’s so pigheaded sometimes. Talk about flaunting you!” “Drew!” I whined. He rolled his eyes and set back to reading the book. I flicked the page on my own book, but after reading ten lines and nothing absorbing itself I slammed it shut and sat back, heaving a resentful sigh. “Bryn sure does have a way of ruining the mood, hey?” I sighed as I slid down into a chair opposite him. “But he’s your boyfriend. I apologise for being so mean.” “Whatever. How about we check those books out and swing by my place for lunch?” “Sure. Give me a sec to skim these first.” “I’ll be in the bathroom.” ----- We took the twelve forty-five bus to my street, walking six houses down until Fizzy saw us and exploded into a frenzy of hysterical barking, his thick tail swinging hard side to side, his bulky body standing strong when I tried to knee him out of the way. I booted him aside instead, laughing when he turned to Drew and stuffed his big snout into his groin, giving it a good sniff. I swung my bag at him, watching his Labrador tongue loll out of his huge mouth as he trotted back to the porch and flopped out on the cool concrete in the shade. Bronte sat on the swinging chair, her long, wispy blonde hair flowing like a cascading waterfall over her bare shoulders, a pale blue singlet clinging to what curves she had left after the years of chemo and extreme, unanticipated dieting had swiftly erased. Boots remained curled up on her lap but purred as we walked by, scraping our shoes on the doormat. “Hello Bronte!” “Good afternoon Drew, how are you holding up?” Drew shrugged. “Never been better, to be honest. How about you? Is Lockie coming over soon?” “I hope so; he promised he’d bring another bag of cat food for Boots.” She smiled weakly, and Drew smiled back at her. Boots raised her round head, yawning, taking one long gaze at Drew, before placing her head back on her ginger paws. “We’ll be up in my room if you need us, okay?” I glanced down at Bronte to meet her eyes, giving Boots one quick pat on the head. “Like I can get up there in my state these days! I can hardly move I’m so weak, but do check on me in thirty please?” “You’re not that frail Bron, but sure, anything.” I leaned against the front door until it let out a long groan, reluctantly heaving itself against the inside wall. Drew followed me in, easing off his black sneakers and pattering softly down the polished floorboards and up the carpeted steps to my room, then politely shut the door behind him. “New poster I see?” He gazed up at my newest edition to my wall of fame: Tom Welling minus the shirt with incredibly tight shorts clinging to his slender thighs. I jumped onto my bed and pulled a bottle of water from my handbag. “Um, Tom Welling is like only the hottest guy on the planet.” “Yeah, kind of.” I stifled a laugh. “Drew, sometimes I’m not sure if you’re straight or bi! Maybe even homo completely, but who knows? Then again Tom Welling is gorgeous, and I love falling asleep staring at that hot bod.” Drew laughed along with the joke, crossing the room and flopping down on the bed beside me, scratching his head as he studied me. “How about Bryn? No massive life-sized portraits of him? No holy grails or shrines? Nothing? Not even a simple happy snap? What’s wrong with girls these days?” “Nothing Mr. Jealousy.” He grimaced his displeasure. “Well, there’s a whole album of happy snaps in my cupboard, and my wardrobe door is covered in photos of you and Bryn. I believe you star more frequently though,” I laughed. “Ah, how did that make the poor jock feel?” “He’s not a jock!” “No need to snap!” Drew shrugged and rolled onto his back, playing with his fingers. “Whatever you say." For an hour we chatted about exams, what we were going to do after to celebrate their ending, what marks we wanted, and how many people we expected to pass them. Somehow the conversation changed to Bronte, like it usually did, no matter who I talked to or what we talked about. “When she dies that cat will be exterminated, trust me. Mum hates it, Dad’s allergic, and they only have it because it fills this gaping hole in Bronte.” “When she dies?” “Yea. No one has the same bone marrow or blood type in our family, and it's not like somebody's going to suddenly become available after fifteen months.” ”It could still happen, if you have hope.” ”I doubt it. Besides, she's been through so much chemo by now that nearly everyone's given up on her. Even her doctors!” Drew sighed at my negative attitude. “But she's tough.” “Not this tough. There's a point where people have to say no more, and I think Bronte's getting close” “You mean… like… suicide?” ”No! Heavens no!” “What, then?” “Her mind won't say no more – but her body will. It'll shut down completely, probably in just a few months.” ” She's seventeen.” “So? People die much younger than that everyday.” I sniffed at the reminder, feeling a solitary tear slide down my cheek. ” But she has the medication and your folks have the money.” ” And me too, and Boots. But it's not enough, I’m starting to se.” He furrowed his brow in concentration. “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” Drew turned onto his side and stared at me behind his bangs, watching me wipe my tears as I sniffed. “No guy will take her, none of her friends except Lockie visit her anymore because they’re too afraid to see her so sick.” ”You’re crying.” He shifted forward and wiped my eyes with his sleeve, giving me a hug. I rested my cheek against his chest and melted into his embrace, feeling the pent up emotion slowly seep out as the true realisation hit me. I thought of Bryn and how he’d been so caring of me in this time of crisis, and all the times he’d offered a shoulder to cry on. Those thoughts just made me cry harder. Great. Drew cradled me like the true friend he was, holding me until I fell asleep against the trembling heartbeat concealed in his ribcage. ----- Any reviews welcomed

summersmilesxoxo

Gender

Points 890

Reviews 7

Wed Aug 06, 2008 8:13 pm

summersmilesxoxo says... · Wed Aug 06, 2008 8:13 pm

this is really good, i really enjoyed reading it. are you making a new section??

Quote

Gender

Points 1068

Reviews 582

Sun Aug 10, 2008 12:10 am

KJ says... · Sun Aug 10, 2008 12:10 am

You asked me to review this quite a while ago, and I know it's shameful that I haven't gotten to it until now. But here I finally am, as promised, and I hope to be of assistance.

While I may seem harsh and critical in the review, I did like most of it. I read the whole thing. It was enjoyable. I wish your MC and Drew would get together.

But, as you will see I state in the attatchment, there doesn’t seem to be a point to this yet. Every story needs a plot, a overall danger or goal to keep it going. Where is any of those things in this story? The party? Is something going to happen there? If so, hint to the reader, so we have a reason to keep reading.

Another thing I noted and that nees much work: paragraph formatting. You forget to break them up, and there’s huge blocks of words that can be separated.

By the way, if you have trouble reading the insterted comments PM me and I'll change it. Keep writing. I hope this review helped.

Attachments