Wake me when September ends

Firestarter · 2004-11-19T21:30:05Z

Hey, I'm new here. Just wanted to share a story with you. Possibly being used for english coursework at college. Wake me when September ends I walk along the dreary street, watch as the last parts of summer are blown away, as brown and yellow leaves cross my path, float carelessly past. It s cold. The end of summer is always depressing, as everything bright and wonderful dies by the swift hand of nature, as colour is turned from luscious pinks and dreamy blues to crumpled oranges and unattractive browns, when the plants are forgotten and the sun waves a solemn goodbye, forever to disappear beyond dark clouds. And it's when my heart was carved in two by the sharp blade known only as love. It began in early summer - the grass was green, the flowers blooming. I met her under a willow tree, and entirely shaded from the sun and the outside world, I watched as her brown locks and chocolate eyes caressed my soul and never let go. Her smile erupted my senses, her movements dictated my mood, and as the sun fell from the sky I fell helplessly in love, never once looking back. I regret it now, going straight in. Sometimes I wonder, if I d took a step back from it all, waited just one minute to let it all flow in, before diving back, would it have changed anything? Because once she'd entered into my life and grasped my heart, I knew I could never allow her to leave. I wish I could have that minute again. The first weeks we spent together were sheer bliss. The number of days we spent under the blazing summer sun laying in the park grass and the number of long nights we spent I have lost count. We talked for hours, she was always there for me, she was the only one who'd pick me up again when I fell down, lifted my head above the clouds and kept me there. She believed in me, made me feel good about myself, like no-one else ever could. The feeling I had when she touched me is beyond my skills of description. She was out of this world, and I was caught in her dance of love, and even if I wanted to escape her trance I couldn't. I don't think my heart can take much more beating from me remembering the amazing times we shared, sorry. I m sure you'll understand. I pause as the sun escapes its cloud and flashes light into my eyes, before disappearing once again. I look hopefully upwards in case it comes back. It doesn't. All it gives me is a flicker of warmth. The wind picks up and my hair flails wildly around, thrashing up and down in the cold air. I shiver. If I had an inch of perception I might have noticed how things were bound to fail. The higher you fly, the further you fall. And it was a long way down from the clouds. She was like an illusion, a dream. My dream. She was everything I had fantasised. Everything I had wished for in the dark hours of the night when I was alone and all hope had faded. She was the goddess of my world, beautiful, heavenly, and unreal. The sun was her beacon, the moon was her servant and the flourishing flowers of late summer her creations. And then she was gone. She held my hand on that grey wall, she picked up that weapon of love and shot me through the centre of my heart leaving it broken, shattered. Grief-stricken, I stumbled home. My life was over. What was left to live for, I ask? I don't think I could get much lower, I'd sunk and fallen and hit the rock bottom in a bottomless chasm of despair, and it had destroyed me. I was no longer content, no longer living in ecstasy, no longer living without worry. My confidence was forever shattered into pieces, lying on the remains of my self-belief. I spent my days counting each day as it passed without event, sick of crying, sick of me, and sick of this summer. I still carry on the walk down that dreary street. The wind is more brutal now. It blows a ripped newspaper in front of my face, before drifting it to rest on a bench. I pass trees bereft of seed and fruit, shredded of their joy. Just like me, summer is dying. Autumn is taking over. How can nature be so cruel and unforgiving? How can it give and take so easily, without thought or feeling, without ever noticing that its boundless power can have consequences. It had left me like a vacuum without my mind, without feeling, just as the last vibrance and action of summer was faltering. Summer has come to pass, my love has been spent, and it s gone so fast. I continue my walk. I don't know why. I hope at the end I ll reach a conclusion that will satisfy me from this whole episode. A man says something to me. I don't hear and carry on. He says it again. I ignore him and carry on. I don't care what people think. If I want to walk down the street without any clothes on, what's it to him? It's cold. I stride forward relentlessly. Crazy, they call me, mad. Maybe I am. But I was always told mad people were those who lost all threads of their life and let free their insanity. Not me. I keep that memory of sunshine and fulfilment from my summer of love, even as my autumn of heartbreak takes over. The indifferent people move like blurs. I don't care if they don't care. I'm safe in my own insecurity, as their faces glance up and down, shocked, perhaps even appalled. I shiver. But I'll never stop. When I die, my soul won't leave for heaven. It's still locked in her fist, suffocated and breathless. It can't escape her grasp. I stumble on something. Some kids laugh at me, chase me, and kick me. I ignore them. I don't even look round. I look up and as a trickle of water chills my head. Here comes the rain again. Oh, how I hate September. It drenches me in hidden pain. I ll never forget what I lost. Then the cold consumes me and I fall. A man stands over me, puts a cloak round me. He tells me it s far too cold to be walking around naked. I laugh. I tell him I'm going to fall asleep. He asks me when he should wake me. I tell him when September ends. Wake me when September ends. Thanks for reading, any comments welcome and appreciated (i.e. rip it apart if you want, I won't mind)

Firestarter

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Sat Mar 05, 2005 2:35 am

Firestarter says... · Sat Mar 05, 2005 2:35 am

Yeh, Terrwyn, I shamelessly ripped of Green Day.

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Crysi

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Sat Mar 05, 2005 2:50 am

Crysi says... · Sat Mar 05, 2005 2:50 am

Wow.. I LOVED the scenery changes! Reminded me that I need to show changes of season in my own story.. It was beautifully written, anyway. Not concentrating on the relationship as much as the mental breakdown of one who has lost his love. Excellent work..

Love and Light

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Firestarter

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Sun Mar 06, 2005 5:03 pm

Firestarter says... · Sun Mar 06, 2005 5:03 pm

Wow, Crysi commented on something of mine...Thanks!

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zelithon

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Fri Dec 09, 2005 6:57 am

zelithon says... · Fri Dec 09, 2005 6:57 am

I lke the title.

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Skye

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Fri Dec 09, 2005 10:22 pm

Skye says... · Fri Dec 09, 2005 10:22 pm

Wow. Definitely a very pretty piece. Now, there were some things you weren't sure about ...

I don’t think my heart can take much more beating from me remembering the amazing times we shared, sorry.

I think the "sorry" at the end is the thing that keeps throwing me off, but now that I really look at it, the wording is kind of clunky. How about something like, "My heart beats too fast and too hard to even remember the times we shared together." That's not a whole lot better, but I'm positive you are capable enough to work this out.

I was left to salvage the remaining of my life

Remainder? (Sorry, just a little nit-pick)

How can it give and take so easily, without thought or feeling, without ever noticing that its boundless power can have consequences.

I absolutely loooooove this line, by the way. ^.^

The indifferent people move like blurs. I don’t care if they don’t care. I’m safe in my own insecurity, as their faces glance up and down, shocked, perhaps even appalled.

First you say they are indifferent, but I know *I* wouldn't be indifferent if I saw a naked man walking down the street! I would be as you described in the third sentence, shocked. I don't know, just a bit of conflicting emotion I caught on the second time around. And, if this counts for anything, I do disagree with your English teacher on the naked issue; I'm curious, on what grounds did she not like it? Did she say?

Wow, long post! :shock:

I really do love this, though; it's very relatable and accessable, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. I hope you will write more! ^.^

"A poet in love is best encouraged in both capacities or neither." ~ Jane Austen, Emma.

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Firestarter

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Fri Dec 09, 2005 10:46 pm

Firestarter says... · Fri Dec 09, 2005 10:46 pm

Woah, talk about brining up dead topics ... I think this was the first piece I posted on the site!

Anyway, thanks Zel and Skye.

Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.

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Skye

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Fri Dec 09, 2005 11:56 pm

Skye says... · Fri Dec 09, 2005 11:56 pm

*glances at dates* Woah! Oops! :oops:

Oh well, it doesn't make it any less good. ^,^

"A poet in love is best encouraged in both capacities or neither." ~ Jane Austen, Emma.

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ladydark

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Mon Dec 12, 2005 11:11 am

ladydark says... · Mon Dec 12, 2005 11:11 am

haha... yesh... much old, but sometimes the olders are the more classic. The beginning when things are new, uncertain and cautious. But that is a good story... despite the late date.
Lady

“I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.”

"Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not;
For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims." (Richard III 1.2) Shakespeare

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Snoink

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Fri Dec 16, 2005 8:28 am

Snoink says... · Fri Dec 16, 2005 8:28 am

Ha! I'm reading a necromanced topic! *does a dance*

No, but seriously, the description is pretty at times, but sometimes it's overwhelmingly beautiful and it makes me want to reach out and give you a big hug because it's so freaking awesome and...

Why did you stop doing prose again?

Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

Moth and Myth <- My comic!

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Firestarter

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Fri Dec 16, 2005 3:23 pm

Firestarter says... · Fri Dec 16, 2005 3:23 pm

This is the first thing I posted on YWS! hah.

Thanks Snoink ... I've never really stopped doing prose, for some reason I just find poetry more fulfilling and less effort (lol).

Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.

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Snoink

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Fri Dec 16, 2005 5:37 pm

Snoink says... · Fri Dec 16, 2005 5:37 pm

True... when school time comes, I tend to write very quick poems and barely write any stories.

But still! This was pretty.

So these were the good ol' days of YWS, huh?

Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

Moth and Myth <- My comic!

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Firestarter

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Fri Dec 16, 2005 5:41 pm

Firestarter says... · Fri Dec 16, 2005 5:41 pm

Oh yes. So long ago ... I used to write so many things back then! Now I'm lazy and lucky to produce one thing in a couple of months.

Alas, I never have any time for prose ... schoolwork, girlfriend and friends kinda screws with my writing timetable so ... yeh. *Jack dreams of the days when he had no life*

Nate wrote:And if YWS ever does become a company, Jack will be the President of European Operations. In fact, I'm just going to call him that anyways.

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Crysi

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Sat Dec 17, 2005 5:49 am

Crysi says... · Sat Dec 17, 2005 5:49 am

*laughs* Too bad you erased your blog... Do you know how many times you complained about not having a life? :lol:

That's brilliant.

Anyway, I remember I really liked this piece. You sounded so... in awe of my commenting, lol! That really makes me laugh.

Love and Light

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DarkerSarah

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Thu Jan 19, 2006 6:53 pm

DarkerSarah says... · Thu Jan 19, 2006 6:53 pm

Wow, Jack, I'm really impressed! Especially if this was the first one you posted on the site. He. Even though gacking ideas from songs is a little cheesy, you pulled it off in a not so cheesy way. Time moves effortlessly, and I really appreciate that, because I have problem with it myself. I'm glad this was brought back up!

-Sarah

"And I am a writer
writer of fiction
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones...
Let me go if you don't love me" ~The Decembrists "Engine Driver"

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Elizabeth

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Thu Jan 19, 2006 7:11 pm

Elizabeth says... · Thu Jan 19, 2006 7:11 pm

Wow, I remember skimming through this about one year ago and not knowing how to post. I can easily say this is very beautiful, it's unfair that you have talent and I don't

Oh well, I am far too busy to give a good critique but I really did love it. (Works and comments at the same time)

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