Thirds a charm

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

Sometimes people are beautiful, not in their looks or what they say, but in the way they are as humans. She is one of those people.

"He looks into my soul. Into my deepest desires and my never ending change of person. He looks at me, like he knows me. Like he has known me before I even knew myself. He has a spark in his right eye, a spark of something grusome. Like a little piece of him is missing."

This is the a draft of the first chapter of a longer story I'm currently writing. I hope you like it:))

How does people do it? Live unknowingly blend lives. How do you just wake up every morning and go to school or work, every day for the rest of your life. I will never understand how boring some people are making their lifes. 

As I lie there, on the lime green grass, looking at the stars, I get a feeling of something new. Something I have not felt before. Like a super nova has just exploded, and I'm the only one who saw it. I sit up, looking around me. Nothing. Then why do I feel so - whole. 

Suddenly a crash comes from behind me, and I stand up and turn around. In that exact moment a shooting star flies over the sky behind him. Him. He was the change. A boy looking to be as old as me plus a year. Hair as the colour of cedar wood, gleaming ever so slighty in the orange moonlight. I can't see his eyes, as he is standing on the other side of the road with almost closed eyes. But his smile sticks out. His smile is the reason for his almost shut eyes. I have never seen such a big smile. I don't really want to look away. I start smiling too. He somehow sees this, as he starts walking towards me, firstly looking to both sides of the road before passing it.

"Hello-" he sticks out his hand "-my names is Axel." I meet his hand and shake it lightly but still firmly. "I'm Juliet." He smiles again. "Like Romeo and Juliet," he says, and I just grunt softly. He leans back ever so slightly. "I always liked Shakespeare," he says, and I look back up at him. "Me too."

"You mind if I join you in the stargazing," he says and gestures towards the grass I was just recently laying on. "Not at all," I say, and we both lay down beside each other. 

"We live on a floating rock in the middle of an endless universe," he suddenly says, and I could not be more happy if he had said something different. "It makes everything seem so small," I add. "Yeah, it really does." Then the talk is over, but I know we are thinking about the same. 

(they continue lying there, maybe talk more, maybe something else)

He stands up. "Dance with me and pretend the world doesn't exist, like there is nothing more than you and I my dear," he says and holds out his hand to lead me. I let out a small laugh, as I stand up and take his hand. 

(they dance for a while, while talking)

"It hurts. After all the time that has passed, it still hurts." I don't know why I'm telling him all this, but somehow I feel as if he is meant to hear all of it. "Life isn't fair. The world wasn't created equal." His words were meant as comfort, but I'm not that easily impressed. "See, that's the thing - it was created equally. But then someone decided they were better." He doesn't really react. He just continues swaying us from side to side, while looking as in deep thought. I let him think. That gives me time to enjoy the moment.

"In this world there are two types of people; the ones who think thay are better and the ones who know they are not." He says it with such ease. All I can do is smile. "I couldn't agree more."

(they continue a bit more and end up going for a walk)

"I thought that if I acted as if it didn't matter, then it wouldn't. But it keeps on coming back. And it still matters to this day. Sometimes I think I'm over it, but it keeps coming back." I look down at the ground. 

(they continue walking while talking some more)

"You are terrifying, you know that right?" He looks straight at me with a slight smirk. I shrug. "What's the point, if you don't terrify people just a little." This makes him chuckle. "You are something, I'm telling you that," he says, and I should not feel as much on edge as I do. I'm weird. I'm too much. I'm not worth it. 

"What are you thinking about? You look sad," he asks. How extremely vulnably such words can make you. "I don't know what's wrong, okay. I just feel really.fucking.tired. And I don't know what you want from me. I'm not special or pretty or talented or smart. I'm just me, and I know that isn't good enough. So, I'm sorry if you expected me to be this incredible girl, cause I'm really not." I tell him but instantly regret it when I feel a tear fall down my cheek. 

"People can do so much worse things than kill you." He doesn't say anything, so I add another thougt. He stops in his tracks, looking afraid to keep going. He sinks before saying; "I know exactly what you mean." Then he looks up, and for the first time I notice the missing piece in his right eye. "You're not the only one who has been mistreated." He looks down again and starts walking. 

"I wasn't really a part of my family when I was younger," he states, still looking at the ground. "My older brother manipulated me and made me feel really fucking shit to be honest. And my parents didn't really support me. I was very badly bullied, and for a long time I didn't wanna go on. I grew up with a perfect older brother, who did everything right. Got the perfect grades, kind, a natural talent for just about everything, good-looking -" he chuckles "-not that bad with the girls." He stops again. "I was never able to compete with any of it, and he made sure to tell me that-" he sinks "-every single day, for about six years." He looks broken, like me.

"I'm so sorry you had to experience that," I tell him. "I can see you are very strong mentally," he says, switching the focus completely onto me instead. I step towards him, so we are only a feet apart. "I guess I've always been like that. But you know-" I lift his head and look him in the eyes "-When you've been strong for too long, you can't stay like that for long." His expression changes. "And that's okay," he tells me, and when I start crying I know how much I needed to hear that. He just takes my whole body into a big hug.

"I don't need help. I just need the pain to go away." He doesn't react. He doesn't let go of me or even move slightly. He stays right were he is, and that is the only thing I want in the world right now. Somehow he knows that. And just at the right moment he squises just ever so slightly more before letting me go. "I'm sorry I cry so much," I tell him, but he is quick to shut that down. "It's not a bad thing to be emotional, it shows how much you care. And I can tell you don't do it often when people are around, so the fact that you do it with me is a true honor." His choice of words is so calculated, yet it seems as if it comes naturally from his mouth. 

I stare at his lips. His thin light pink lips. They look calm, like a house with lights in the windows. A home at christmas time. The children running around in the living room while the parents are cooking in the kitchen. They look inviting, like a warm hug or a cozy sweater. I've always like that kind of comfort. And with that thought I give in to my instincts. 

He is hot, like flames from a fireplace, flickering in the dim light of an afternoon. He is gentle, like I'm an expensive piece of porcelain he can't affort to break. He is smiling like a small child getting its present on christmas morning. His hair is soft like the pillow I had when I was a child. And his skin just under his ear and down his neck, even softer than his hair. 

I don't want him to stop. I want it to last forever. But after a while it must be put on stad by momentarily. "You are truly amazing," he exclaims, but I'm not that easy to impress. "Then why did you stop?" The question startles him as his face changes completely, almost into a scared look. "I..I'm not sure actually," he stutters, and I like the power I suddenly have over him. "I have to go home, it's getting late," he says while looking at his clock. "Can I home with you then?" I ask him, and once again he seems surprised yet intriqued. "I would like that, yes." With that we start walking in a complete another direction, on our way to the house of a boy I met two hours and four minutes ago. 

"I like this house," I say as I look around the old-styled home. 

(continue the description of house, kitchen, bathroom, guesthouse and so on)

"And this is my room," he says and gestuures with his hand for me to enter, as we walk down the small hallway and end by a small room with a bed, a desk and a place for his clothes. He has posters and paintings all over the walls, which makes the room a bit more colourful. It fills out the space.

(they end up in the bed, girl in boys clothes)

"I'm glad I met you tonight." I say it so easily, it almost scares me. "And I'm glad I met you tonight," he says, laying the presure on you. He holds me a bit tighter. I can smell the distant cologne, and his skin is warming up to my touch. "I like this," I tell him honestly. "I like this even more," he says right back and holds me even closer. I fall asleep like this, in his arms with the sound of his heart beating slowly and his steady breaths. 

In an instance I wake up. I feel cold and a light shiver goes up my arm. He is still holding me, but I feel no warmth anymore. I'm not good enough. Why am I even here? He deserves more than a small and pathetic girl. How can I be so selfish? I should go. I try to move his arms as carefully as I can to not wake him, but just as I'm free he opens his eyes and looks straight at me. 

"What are you doing?" he asks with furrowed brows. I'm speechless. He looks so innocent lying there with his bare chest and tired eyes. "I..I'm." I don't know what to say. "Are you okay?" he asks, and then I break down for the second time that night. 

"I'm sorry. I don't deserve to lie here with you. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." My words just fall, like the tears that are now also falling down my cheeks. I hold my shaking hands up to my face. "I'm sorry. I don't know why this is happening. I'm sorry." I keep apologizing, in the hope of him not being mad. He stands up and takes me into his body. "Hey, hey. It's okay. Just take a deep breath. You're okay." He continues talking me down. It actually helps for a while, but then it gets worse. "I'm not okay. I'm not. I'm really not. I don't belong here. I don't deserve you, or anything else good." 

I cry, and cry, and cry. And suddenly you don't feel anyhting. No tears, no cold, no thoughts, nothing. He holds me further into him, and the warmth of his body is slowly coming back. "I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave. I won't give up. And I will be here every single time you need me. You can doubt it. You can try to push me away, but I will never leave you. I don't care if there where 100 million reasons to leave - I won't. You are that one reason I need to stay." His words are spoken from his heart. I can hear it clearly, like a singer hitting a note perfectly. 

"Thank you," I say low, as we lay down after some time. "No need to say thank you dear. I don't mind at all." With that said I nuzzle into his neck and fall asleep with slow breaths and a cozy feeling.

"Good morning sleepyhead." I open my eyes slowly, stretching my arms and yawning the rest of the sleep out of me. "Hi," I say, as I close my eyes and nuzzle into the duvet once again. He chuckles, and what a wonderful sound that is. "You need to get up. Breakfast is ready." He sits down beside me and starts caresing my cheek. I smile under his touch. "Can't we just lie here?" I suggest, and he laughs deeply. "Five minutes, then you have to get up. Even when you look this adorable." I just smile wider, as he lays down beside me, wrapping his arms around me once more. 

"Ahem, guys." I wake up to an older boy clearing his throat, and both me and the boy next to me look up at him. "What do you want?" Axel says. His voice is husky as the sleep is yet gone from it. "I was going to ask if you wanted anything from the shop, but know I'm tempted to just-" he gestures with his hands like a magician "-disappear." He chuckles at himself. "We're good," Axel assures, and after a second the boy is gone, and we are alone again, snuggled up together. 

This is how my day is spend. Until around 3 pm no words are uttered other than the ones to his brother. We just lie beside each other, relaxing through each others company. What must he be thinking as he once in a while opens one eye and looks at me lying on his bare chest? I may never know, but what I know is how he smiles when I take a peek once in a while and his eyes meet mine. I can't help but smile too.

(some more fluff)

I like how people are meant to hold each other. Our fingers fit perfect together when holdning hands and when you hug someone your arms fit around the other person and your face fits inside his or her neck. It is like we were meant to do it. Like our body was meant to hold another body. 

(some more action)

After we have eaten I go to my moms house. The place I live. The place where I should feel at home. The place where sounds and talking suddenly becomes louder. Before I enter I hear my moms voice. She is probably talking to someone on the phone. Then I go through the front door, and the voice hits me like a brick wall. The cold of the outside is not even close to the one here. I take off my shoes and jacket, placing it neatly by the others. I can hear that she is in the kitchen, so I very discretly walk down the other side of the house to my room. 

It's not warm in here either, but it's better than the rest of the house. 

(description of room)

I lay down on the bed. And as I look at the loft, I smile wider than I thought I ever could. What the fuck did just happen? I sit up. Holy shit. My smile grows again. I hold my hands around my head. "I'm so fucked" I say low, still smiling. I laugh to myself, as queit as I can. My heart beats faster and I feel kind of lightheaded, so I sit down again, now putting on my headphones. Music starts blasting, and I feel myself falling deeper into the matress. He did this. He made me smile like this.

I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up to a high pitch voice telling me that dinner is served. My head shoots up. Our eyes meet and they stay like that for a little bit too long. They are a sharp brown colour but you can't see anything but the darkness from this distance. Then she closes the door, and my heart drops to my stomach. 

You're okay. My inner voice can both calm me down and rile me up. Like myself it is an contradiction towards itself. You're okay. Just get up. Then you will feel better. I push off the headphones and get to my feet, shivering lightly as my floor is now colder than earlier. Socks on, then go eat. I do it, and after no time I'm sitting at the light brown table. My mom has lit two candles that are now placed on the table at the exact same distance on each side of me, thankfully. 

"Where is Noel?" My words are colder than necessary. She doesn't look up. "He's at your dads," she says. I look down again, mumbling an okay, then continuing to eat. And she does too. That is how most of our meals go by. It has not always been like this, and I'm not entirely sure how or when it started, but this type of conversation is all we have left to offer each other. 

The silence has really sunken down on us, and I can hear every little sound that is made. Her chewing. The quiet buzzing of the refrigerator. A car driving by outside on the road. I hear it all, and it is getting louder by the second. My ears start ringing, the high pitch but low level sound I hate so much. 

I get done as quickly as possible, whereafter I stand up and take my plate to the dishwasher. Then I walk by the woman at the table and go straight to my room. 

I shut the door behind me. How have I ended up here? I take a deep breath before taking the few steps to my bed, laying down for the second time today. I'm not really in the mood for doing anything. No reading, no homework, no movies and no sleeping. I just want to disappear. But that I don't want to either. 

After looking into thin air for a good hour I eventually get myself to brush my teeth and go to bed. But it is not with good will in neither my heart or head. 


Submitted: March 21, 2021

© Copyright 2021 J. E. Kragelund. All rights reserved.

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Comments

AdamCarlton

Hi. A couple of comments. English isn't your first language so I'm already impressed but it's hard to get the detailed nuances, isn't it. Best to at least run the spell-checker. If you use Google Docs it makes an attempts to suggest grammatical improvements as well - works for me!

Second: this seems to sit in the space between a memoir and a story. Stories need a strong sense of direction - a point, really - and there's a bit too much aimless meandering in your current version.

You'll have so much fun improving your style: I can see the potential there.

Mon, March 22nd, 2021 10:53am

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