Hello gayz I made this INCOMPLETE story like last month and I just wanted to know what you think of it.. :D
I keep coughing nowadays.
It’s not a cold, it’s not flu, but I just keep coughing. I disturb classes with its continuousness and my heart seems to tell me, Please make it stop, I’m aching. If this keeps up I might end up getting bloated with water and explode.
Due to the above mess, I decided to seal my lips more often. My mother urges me to go to the Doctor but the thought of suddenly discovering that I have a disease within me prevents me from doing so. I wear a mask around now, it itches and I wish I don’t have to wear it but it’s for the sake of the surrounding people.
The leaves have just started peeping from tree branches and the inches of puffy white ice are rapidly melting away. Perhaps I am allergic to this season, I don’t know.
I got out of bed and felt a vibe of Vitamin D on my skin. It felt refreshing. After doing morning rituals I waved to my parents and began strolling along the pavement to the bus stop. I could see the neighbours have just started trimming their hedges as ploughs shooed the snow away. Birds were chirping happily to each other as if they agreed about this glorious daybreak.
Bus stops are the Earth’s versions of Heaven for me. Beside the joy of some alone-time watching bikes and cars pass by and absorbing the clean air, there was also the joy of watching and absorbing the wonder that is he. Oh, and there he is, suddenly appearing closer – it’s beating fast – and closer – it’s beating really hard now – until he ends up majestically standing two feet away from the frail and unnoticeable me. His mansion is 3 from mine; our mothers attend tea parties together and we go to the same school… not to mention the same public vehicle, so you could say we know each other.
Despite that, communication opportunities are zilch. Besides frequent greetings in the heaven stop that is. My tonsils are practically suicidal at the fact that a mutual conversation has low chances of ever beginning between us. There are those Hellos and What’s the homework for tomorrow?s but will there ever be a Hey did you see the latest episode of Prison Break?s?
I have a feeling the guy knows of my deep and girly affection but I attempted to enlighten the mood nevertheless.
‘Hello, Ryan.’ Cough.
He slowly turned his head towards me. ‘Hey,’ he finally uttered.
A hey is nothing, really. Really! But my heart is an idiot anyway. ‘So… I heard you’re going to college this year and I’m very impressed.’ Damn, internet phrases can really get to me.
‘Hmm… Yeah… Going to Boston. ‘Think I’m heading early though, in April or something. ‘Wanna get used to the place.’
Cough. I felt my spleen grinning. I asked, ‘Where are you gonna be living?’
Ryan grinned too. My spleen was now doing acrobats. ‘What, why? You wanna stalk me or something?’
‘As if! Gosh, is there something wrong with wondering?’
‘It’s OK, I’ll be in an all-guy’s dorm, with a roommate,’ he said.
‘Wait… don’t tell me you’re gay.’
‘Well at least that way you won’t have to find out where I live anymore.’
There was an icy tone not even a winter’s wind could beat in temperature to that last sentence he said that made me stop the conversation from flowing any further. I coughed again.
He instantly snapped, ‘What’s wrong with you? Why do you keep coughing?’
My heart skipped a beat, but not in that way. I don’t know whether he asked because he’s annoyed, or because he cared. Since this is Ryan, perhaps the former.
‘Man, I don’t know… Probably ‘cause of the season change… I don’t want to go to the Doctor.’
‘Why?’
‘The reason is stupid…’
‘Well OK then.’
So much for hoping he’s interested. The moving yellow box with wheels finally screeched to a halt in front of us and the traces of that conversation were left behind at the bus stop, and my mind, ‘til forever.
It was a new morning. A weekend morning, to be exact. Weekend mornings mean morning walks. Morning walks mean slight chance when I pass Ryan’s house he’ll be mowing his lawn or throwing the garbage or some other morning duty. Mornings are good.
I saved our street for the last. The sun was rising higher and its rays were constantly telling me to go home. Today I could no longer see patches of plump white on sharp greens anymore. It was no use taking my time so I ran for it, only to be stopped by the sound of a woman’s voice.
‘Linda!’
Ryan’s mother. Niiiiiiiice. ‘Yes Miss?’
It’s not a cold, it’s not flu, but I just keep coughing. I disturb classes with its continuousness and my heart seems to tell me, Please make it stop, I’m aching. If this keeps up I might end up getting bloated with water and explode.
Due to the above mess, I decided to seal my lips more often. My mother urges me to go to the Doctor but the thought of suddenly discovering that I have a disease within me prevents me from doing so. I wear a mask around now, it itches and I wish I don’t have to wear it but it’s for the sake of the surrounding people.
The leaves have just started peeping from tree branches and the inches of puffy white ice are rapidly melting away. Perhaps I am allergic to this season, I don’t know.
I got out of bed and felt a vibe of Vitamin D on my skin. It felt refreshing. After doing morning rituals I waved to my parents and began strolling along the pavement to the bus stop. I could see the neighbours have just started trimming their hedges as ploughs shooed the snow away. Birds were chirping happily to each other as if they agreed about this glorious daybreak.
Bus stops are the Earth’s versions of Heaven for me. Beside the joy of some alone-time watching bikes and cars pass by and absorbing the clean air, there was also the joy of watching and absorbing the wonder that is he. Oh, and there he is, suddenly appearing closer – it’s beating fast – and closer – it’s beating really hard now – until he ends up majestically standing two feet away from the frail and unnoticeable me. His mansion is 3 from mine; our mothers attend tea parties together and we go to the same school… not to mention the same public vehicle, so you could say we know each other.
Despite that, communication opportunities are zilch. Besides frequent greetings in the heaven stop that is. My tonsils are practically suicidal at the fact that a mutual conversation has low chances of ever beginning between us. There are those Hellos and What’s the homework for tomorrow?s but will there ever be a Hey did you see the latest episode of Prison Break?s?
I have a feeling the guy knows of my deep and girly affection but I attempted to enlighten the mood nevertheless.
‘Hello, Ryan.’ Cough.
He slowly turned his head towards me. ‘Hey,’ he finally uttered.
A hey is nothing, really. Really! But my heart is an idiot anyway. ‘So… I heard you’re going to college this year and I’m very impressed.’ Damn, internet phrases can really get to me.
‘Hmm… Yeah… Going to Boston. ‘Think I’m heading early though, in April or something. ‘Wanna get used to the place.’
Cough. I felt my spleen grinning. I asked, ‘Where are you gonna be living?’
Ryan grinned too. My spleen was now doing acrobats. ‘What, why? You wanna stalk me or something?’
‘As if! Gosh, is there something wrong with wondering?’
‘It’s OK, I’ll be in an all-guy’s dorm, with a roommate,’ he said.
‘Wait… don’t tell me you’re gay.’
‘Well at least that way you won’t have to find out where I live anymore.’
There was an icy tone not even a winter’s wind could beat in temperature to that last sentence he said that made me stop the conversation from flowing any further. I coughed again.
He instantly snapped, ‘What’s wrong with you? Why do you keep coughing?’
My heart skipped a beat, but not in that way. I don’t know whether he asked because he’s annoyed, or because he cared. Since this is Ryan, perhaps the former.
‘Man, I don’t know… Probably ‘cause of the season change… I don’t want to go to the Doctor.’
‘Why?’
‘The reason is stupid…’
‘Well OK then.’
So much for hoping he’s interested. The moving yellow box with wheels finally screeched to a halt in front of us and the traces of that conversation were left behind at the bus stop, and my mind, ‘til forever.
It was a new morning. A weekend morning, to be exact. Weekend mornings mean morning walks. Morning walks mean slight chance when I pass Ryan’s house he’ll be mowing his lawn or throwing the garbage or some other morning duty. Mornings are good.
I saved our street for the last. The sun was rising higher and its rays were constantly telling me to go home. Today I could no longer see patches of plump white on sharp greens anymore. It was no use taking my time so I ran for it, only to be stopped by the sound of a woman’s voice.
‘Linda!’
Ryan’s mother. Niiiiiiiice. ‘Yes Miss?’
Tis all for now. Didn't bother editing, OK?
4 replies:
hayah so cute, even though i've read about the first part before.
WRITE MOAR I LIVE YOUR WRITING SKILLS
U LIVE MY WRITING SKILLS? AHAHAHAHAHA
thank u :D
love the story. and how you revealed her name at the end.
as i said, make the sentence structure more formal and less colloquial.
and more advanced imagery please. and i think a tad bit more general and not referring to anything like prison break.
sorry for sounding so harsh i just had to let it out ._.
well im glad u realised u sound harsh
ok ill do smethin abt th prison break
it has t be colloquial bcuz its from a teenager's perspective. she isnt like ur blog -o-
thanks for liking it
Post a Comment