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Pretty Little Nothing (13+)

by Chanson


This is how it began:

Sitting on a porch, civilization to our backs, the hum of voices, music, glasses clattering. The ocean in front of us, ridiculously vast and incomprehensible. The horizon called to me, taunted me. Whispered to me of places I once went, places I might have gone to, places I will only ever dream of. Beside me your gentle voice told a story and I lulled myself into a trance with your words. The grating undercurrent of your voice, that rocky edge, sharp, hoarse, something so primal about it, something filled with an unpolished sexuality. I found myself hypnotized by it, by the way it made the blood pump around my body, faster, faster, made me acutely aware of every part of me. The passion of your words, the love of your subject, the way your eyes gleamed bright. A warm breeze, good conversation, two people enjoying each other's company. The perfect moment. A moment to be treasured, wrapped up in the blanket of memory, stored away gently, to be taken out on a lonely day and remembered, fawned over.

I felt beautiful, I could sense that the moon glinted on my caramel hair, that my perfect-summer-sky-blue eyes sparkled with star light. I knew you saw it too, that you were pleased by the effect the ripples of my white skirt had against my long tanned legs and the shadows my silver moon earrings threw across my cheek. I saw the way you watched my lips move and I ran my pink tongue over them, tasted the lemon, was suddenly aware of how full they weer and I felt lucky not to have thin lips, felt proud of my plump, volumptuous mouth.

Afterwards, I went home and you entered my dreams. I could feel you. I opened my eyes in the morning- I thought of you. I closed them at night to thoughts of you. You infiltrated every part of me, seeped through every pore. You filled me up with your image, your eyes, your smell. I found myself coveting things you had touched, conversations we had had. Your every word was analyzed, chewed over, engrained into my mind. I listened to your favourite music, watched your favourite films.

This is how it played out:

I lost control of myself. Grades slipped. Friends fell to the wayside. I lived, I breathed, I wished for you. I breathed you in when you were near me, sucked in your essence. Like a drug addiction, at first I thought- I don't need him, I could stop if I wanted, I just don't want to. I believed I could go back to existence without you.

I wanted you more then I wanted anyting. Self-respect, dignity, pride. Around you they were nothing, jut words, just words from a storybook.

I gave myself to you so simply, so humbly. For you I would have been anything and so you made me into nothing and I submitted. I used everything I had. Having sex with you was something I did willingly. It was what you wanted. And I wanted everything, anything you wanted. I would have gladly run way to Argentina, India, Thailand with you. I would have dropped everything. I was the girl I had always most despised, the girl in books who gives it all away for a guy and you think "god, how stupid, how immature, couldn't she see what would happen, couldn't she tell she was just another girl, what was she thinking?". But now I was that girl, sleeping with you between the guitar case and the amplifier in the backseat of your car. I lost my virginity to you and I didn't care- what was viriginty, anyway? People made such a big deal out of it. Who cares, I reasoned with myself and lay down in front of you. Your kisses were exctacy, the world crumbled when your lips touched my neck, it fragmented into pieces, nothing seemed real, everything was broken, swirling. The world melted, merged, twisted. A kind of euphoria, a swell of pleasure, this was it this was you and me. I imagined an us, a real us, a boyfriend-girlfriend us.

Suddenly we were having sex. A twinge of guilt ("should I really be dong this?") quickly covered up. I just concentrated on the fact that it was you, you were the one touching me, this was really happening, this was it, the stuff of dreams. It hurt, it felt akward and strange. Doubt crept in as soon as you rolled off my body but I pushed it away, buried it. Like a child who gets that doll at Christmas, only to discover it doesn't come with the accessories from the advertisement, that the batteries aren't included. I felt like there had to be more and yet how could there be more? You were a God on Earth, I had given you every single part of me that mattered-it had to be worth it. There couldn't be more.

This is how it ends:

So delusional. I was so, so delusional. It seems so stupid now. So cliche. But then, at the time, in the moment, it was everything to me. I thought I would never love like that again. I thought I would never find anyone like you again.

The next night it was that slut from your grade, with the dark hair and perfect skin. She was beautiful. Was she better then me? Don't answer that- of course she was. Did you share your cigarette with her, too? Talk about your dreams, your family, your favourite childhood memory, your first kiss? Did she get to touch your silver earring and stroke the baby soft skin of your ear?

I'm killing myself over you. I can't believe it but here I am. The knife slides so easily though the skin. I'm another fucking teen suicide statistic. And when I'm gone you'll think "I wonder why?" And you'll feel cool because you slept with the gir who committed suicide! You'll have that touch of celebrity that being involved in tragedy bestows. Lucky you, eh? And will you find this story, these flimsy pages, tucked beneath the floorboards? Will you see the blood that stains the ink and think "That blood is caused by me"?.

Of course, it's the pills that will kill me. But the skin slicing passes time, adds a certain something to it all, don't you think? I sound crazy, I know. I sound insane, pushed over that thin line between normal and 'off her rocker'. What am I doing, throwing my promising life away ("Honor Roll Student Commits Suicide: Small Beach Town Mourns") for a guy, a stupid guy who everyone knows has gotten with every half-decent girl in school? I was bound for Yale! I've had books published, founded school clubs. I was captain of the volleyball team and we won every game we played. I tutored underpriveleged kids and still managed to have a social life, a real one, with drink and drugs and friends. People came to me for advice. I hung out with my mom at least one day a week, told her everything (except for about you). I babysat my little brother without being asked, took him to movies, taught him to read, slept in his bed when he has nightmares and sung him to sleep. I was going to be someone.

Now I am dying. Sleep is over taking me. The hate for myself that you gave me is building, building up, eating away at me. You made me do this. Made me. You basically put the pills in my mouth.

I have doubts that this is the right thing. But the pain is so much to bear. And the digust with myself...I was trapped inside my body. My used and discarded body. I was just a shell of my former self. I suppose it is as much my fault as it is yours. But it's too late to be rational. My surroundings are blurring. This is it, this is death. I can hear my little brother laughing somewhere. He seems so very far away. Life feels distant. I remember that first night, looking at the horizon.

I would have been anything for you. And you- you chose to make me nothing.


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Sat Jul 05, 2008 11:52 am
niccy_v wrote a review...



Over all i love ti! But seriously, ha ha, begin it in word. You've made so many mistakes which could have been picked up through even spell check.
Unless you had it turned off? :P

I can just imagine it all as it happens, and the words you use are simply amazing. Good structure, but is this actually going to be a story? if so replace 'this is how it began' with a prologue or something like that. Maybe a quick chapter. If not, and this is under construction with no real aim for it right now, then it's fine.




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Tue Jan 30, 2007 6:35 pm
EllLou wrote a review...



wow, i cant believe how much feeling was in that piece. It was sad but at the same time it was so understandable. So many girls go through that atachment you have made so real in your writing. Great job!

"dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you'll die today." James Dean




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Mon Jan 29, 2007 11:14 pm
moosiegirl says...



I liked this it was amazing and I think alot of people can relate id love to hate it but i cant really think of any faults
keep writing :)




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Fri Jan 05, 2007 7:08 pm
Muse wrote a review...



"was suddenly aware of how full they weer"
Im guessing that's supposed to be "were".

and...

"Your kisses were exctacy" should be spelt "ecstasy"

Apart from those small errors, i really like this. It's pretty captivating stuff. Good work :D




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Fri Jan 05, 2007 5:57 pm
Kinsley says...



It was very good but I don't know what to think about it. It reminds me so much of my sister. Very good though...




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Sat Dec 23, 2006 2:14 am
WildChild says...



Damn only one word to describe this piece is wow, i really like your use of wording and how you explian her feelings it a great one good job and hope to hear more on this piece.




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Fri Dec 22, 2006 9:00 am
hellstrife wrote a review...



I'm not even a girl and I think that it's really cool. A word that others were using is "morbid", and that seemed to fit. I liked how it got darker and darker until you were talking about imminent death and such. It carried across the emotion of that situation pretty well. I haven't come across many works on this site that I've really liked, but yours was definitely pretty sweet. Keep writing.




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Tue Dec 19, 2006 10:24 am
Certainly Love says...



Ah...so deep. I was think a lot of girls have gone through the same incident. I hate that...well, I loved it. It's so awesome.




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Fri Dec 08, 2006 6:48 pm
Karma says...



I also enjoyed the way you had 'this is how it ends', etc written in italics.




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Tue Nov 28, 2006 8:28 pm
Griffinkeeper says...



Rated R for Sexual Content, Language.




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Mon Nov 27, 2006 7:00 pm
Karma says...



wow.

I think that's all that applies.

wow.




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Mon Nov 27, 2006 2:10 am
zomg_briana says...



Wow. That was powerful. Amazing. Beautiful. And morbid all at the same time. It blew me away. I wouldn't change a thing.




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Wed Nov 22, 2006 3:57 pm
RoxanneR says...



It's soooooo romantic! I want more! Is there any chance you can contine it?

RR*




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Wed Nov 15, 2006 12:21 am
Via says...



I would change the name of this...as it could be seen as stolen or something from the book Pretty Little Dirty by Amanda Boyden.

Just a little suggestion, although I don't know that it makes much of a difference.




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Tue Nov 14, 2006 11:02 pm
Wiggy says...



Great job! Powerful, yet morbidly fascinating at the same time. You have a great way with words...I wouldn't say it's necessary to use the language (like the f word and all), but I think it's your choice. Again, good job!




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Fri Apr 29, 2005 7:33 pm
justadreamer says...



Thank you for writing this piece. The girl in your story reminds me of...well...me. And it really helps. Even if it is all fiction. The last part with the little brother laughing was strong. I really liked it. Great story!!!




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Mon Apr 25, 2005 9:31 pm
Duskglimmer wrote a review...



Chanson, I just have to say, that the way you always seem to capture me within the first five words of your stories, is abosolutely fantastic. You have a fabulous way of expressing these things, and I have to say that this is probably one of my favorites of all the things you've done. I captured so much of how a girl's mind works when put in that kind of situation. You know that you're turning into one of the cliche chicks in hopeless love stories, but you can't help but think that your story is different and that things will turn out perfectly for you because you were willing to give 100%.

I was near to tears near the end of this, but that last line hit me so hard. It was so perfect to sum up the entire piece. It's so true, that we would be anything for certain people, and they make us into everything or nothing. That last line was such a strong finish, and it will stick in my mind for a long time.

All in all, I just have to say that this was excellent. I tried to go back through and find something that I would change, but I couldn't. Everything seems just right here, absolutely perfect to get the effects that you wanted. This is definately something I will read again, just because it's so... so... I can't even come up with enough superlatives for this! It's just so morbidly beautiful and romantic...




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Mon Apr 25, 2005 8:08 pm
Little Dreamer says...



Wow this was really deep and i could almost feel myself feeling her pain. I hope to hear more of this one.




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Fri Apr 22, 2005 9:42 pm
Mattie wrote a review...



I liked this too...in fact I like everything you write, Chanson. :) It's sad, morbid, and romantic all rolled into one. I love your work and always look for new things you have posted. I especially love the titles of, "This is how it began, this is how it played out, and this is how it ended" All I can say is "great" but it was so much more than that. My favorite part and thought was the most captivating was:

Afterwards, I went home and you entered my dreams. I could feel you. I opened my eyes in the morning- I thought of you. I closed them at night to thoughts of you. You infiltrated every part of me, seeped through every pore. You filled me up with your image, your eyes, your smell. I found myself coveting things you had touched, conversations we had had. Your every word was analyzed, chewed over, engrained into my mind. I listened to your favourite music, watched your favourite films.

Great Work! :)




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Fri Apr 22, 2005 8:30 pm
mysterywriter wrote a review...



wow. this is so romantically morbid. i liked it and i wouldn't want to change anything about it...you did a really good job with the description of everything and i loved how it read like a poem, i write poetry and short stories so for me it was like reading two in one. 8)




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Fri Apr 22, 2005 2:51 pm
Kay Kay says...



Wow! I loved it a lot...I can't wait to hear more of your stuff...everytime I read something by you it makes me want to write poems..silly isn't it? lol





Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.
— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights