My own short story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Allison;s dad was going to be remarried again, but she was having difficulty in accepting a new woman as her mother. Even though she liked Rhonda, she was not been able to put her in her mother's place.

Submitted: July 25, 2010

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Submitted: July 25, 2010

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Just a story Part-I She stormed into my room and stumbling directly over my bed, let her body fell on it with her face down, throwing back her handbag nowhere and her shoes, almost everywhere. She tried to push down her face as much as possible deep into the pillow, holding it tight with both her hands, with her legs hanging mid-air on the edge of the bed. Since I was prone to her dramatic ways for too long a time, so I threw a glance at her momentarily just to assess the situation that whether she killed herself or not, and returned my gaze back at the computer screen. After observing no movement from her for a considerable long time, I was forced by myself to inquire. “Hey, are you okay?” I almost bellowed at her without leaving my eyes off from the computer screen. After a few moments of silence, a diffused sound from under the pillow reached my ears. My brain, after processing the sound for some time, confirmed it to be something like ‘yeah’. “How did the lunch go?” I asked, but this time turning my head towards her direction. Her body lay there still, almost lifelessly, with no apparent response. I probably assumed what happened. I closed the window on which I was currently working, put the computer in a power-saver mode, and made my way towards the bed. I sat near her head, on the right corner of the bed. The bed-side window was open, and the cool, fresh evening air was making its way directly to my room. I put my hand on her back, and patting slightly on it for a couple of times, asked, “Hey, what’s going on?” I waited for a reply, but nothing came. I tried again. “Come on Al. you got to tell me. What happened?” this time I asked by literally shaking her body, as if I was trying to put life back on a dead body. Fortunately, it worked. Slowly, the dead started coming back to life. By making some slow twisting movements of the head and body, and leaving behind a frail spot of pink lip-gloss on my sparkling white linen pillow, it turned on its back, and finally its eyes locked with mine. I tried hard to decipher her expression. Even though, after her melodramatic effort, as she always does, I didn’t found anything unusual in her. She didn’t looked sad, neither her eyes showed any glint of happiness, but the act of frustration was somewhat noticeable in her face, as it was able to rose her blood through her fair cheeks, giving it a deep-red glow. That was enough to put any sane person to comatose stage. She then untied her brown hair and let them loosely fall over the bed, with her hands cupping behind her head. “So, how did it go?” I asked….again. “Weird”, she replied, slowly, turning her face towards the window and looked thoughtfully at the cloudless blue sky. “How...Weird,” I tried to pronounce each syllable carefully as if all the questions in my mind can be answered by just these two words. She tried to lift her body, and supporting her back on her elbows, uttered with a sigh, “They’re going to get engaged next week?” “Really!” I tried to act surprised but I knew it was going to happen. Probably, she knew that too. “Yeah, sometime in the weekend, or so. Just a small family event.” She shook her head with a complete disinteresting tone. I looked around for a while, contemplating whether to ask her the question nagging on my mind, at that moment. Finally, I took a deep breath and spurt it out. “So, what are you going to do now?” Instantly, her face became sober. She stretched her back a little more, and let her head fell backward on her shoulders. Her fine, straight hair was hanging gracefully under the influence of gravity, and was looking mystifying under the diffused light of the incoming twilight. I, consciously turned my eyes from them to the opposite wall. In case I got lost in them, again. “I’ve no idea Sam,” she muttered slowly under her breadth. “Dad seems very happy about her, but she can’t never take mom’s place.” A drop of tear glistened on the corner of her eyes. “But you do like her, don’t you.” “Yes…and that is the problem, that I like her. If I would have disliked her, things would have been much easier for me.” “Then why don’t you accept the truth then. You’re just making things complicated for yourself.” “You don’t understand. Though I like her now and may love her someday, I can never place her in mom’s shoes. Even though I admire her and liked her being around, I can’t allow her to come in between dad and me.” “Have you decided to talk to your dad about it?” She sat up straight, lifting her feet on the bed and then crossing her legs. She let her hands fell on her knees, her head down and shoulders drooping, her fingers running over the small, metallic silver chain that was running across her jeans pocket. “No, I can’t tell him. Besides, it’s too late. He loves her and he is happy… he’ll break.” The last sentence was finished with a stream of tears. From my experience, I knew that the only time she ever cried was whenever she remembered her mother. I forwarded myself to hold her. The collar of my shirt became wet in an instant. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2 is yet to complete. Guys please leave comments.


© Copyright 2020 Ritham das . All rights reserved.

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