Young Writers Society

1. Jamie

When Jamie sees the two men making out in front of the bench, her hands are in the middle of picking up a massive pile of dog poop. Daisy, the one hundred-forty pounds of fluffy black fur and unbound energy that he is, pulls desperately on the leash tied around Jamie’s wrist. Attempting to go after a squirrel, perhaps. The park always has an abundance of squirrels during the summer. It is Daisy’s greatest joy in life to chase after the little things, and it’s funny until Jamie gets tugged along. Under normal circumstances, Jamie would try and bring the Newfoundland under control; however, well, she’s preoccupied with trying to put the dog poop in the small plastic bag and watching the men furiously make out.

The mushy pile of poop finally slides into the plastic bag, and Jamie wrinkles her nose as she quickly ties the bag shut. Even after 7 years of living with Daisy, the putrid smell never fails to bring forth a hint of disgust onto her face. The heat of the hot summer day seems to make the smell even worse. Beads of sweat roll down her forehead, and she wipes it away.

Although she’s far too aware that it’d be considered as rude, she keeps her eyes on the men. After a more careful once-over, Jamie decides that the men aren’t making out. No - it’s more like a violent embrace. The taller man with red hair has his arms around the other one, and their faces are right next to each other.

Well, can't blame me for jumping to conclusions here.

The men are too far away for her to make out exact words, but she catches little phrases as the men continue to engage in -what seems to be- an intense hug.

-be alright, always be…, she hears. There… not there …okay.

The shorter man has bright blond hair that Jamie is quickly envious of, and when he convulses and shakes his head violently, Jamie sees his eyes. Even from a distance, she can see a certain lifeless quality to them that raises the hairs on her arms.

The blond man’s torso seems to be spasming. The red haired man keeps speaking a in low, murmuring voice.

Jamie realizes suddenly that the men are not hugging. The red haired man is either trying to get the blond man to sit down on the bench, or trying to tug him up. With an increasing feeling of being an intruder, Jamie stands there with Daisy tugging on the leash, the sun stabbing into her eyes. After what feels like forever, the red haired man succeeds in gently easing the other man down onto the bench. The blond man’s hands have stopped spasming. Quietly, the red haired man turns around to sit down next to him.

She feels awful for staring, but it’s nearly impossible to not stare at the red haired man’s face - well, what remains of it. A pink scar that ripples across the left side of the man’s face, deforming an eye and the corner of his lips, twitches as the man smiles.

If a single brown eye hadn’t flickered in her direction, Jamie would have kept staring, rooted to the spot. With a surprised jerk, Jamie spins around, starts walking briskly and urges Daisy to come along, her heart pounding. She dares not look back until she’s a good distance away from the bench, and when she does, she sees the red haired man wiping the other man’s forehead with a flower-patterned handkerchief. The blond man sits still, his back slightly hunched over, and stares out into empty space. It wouldn’t have been entirely unfair for Jamie to assume the man to be an expertly made wax figure, left in the small park to sit on the bench and stare for all of eternity.

The uncomfortable feeling of intruding on a private moment returns. Jamie tugs Daisy along as she keeps walking, and doesn’t look back again.