Dreamers

[tea_and_ink]

So, took a while to work up the courage to post this… because I’m shy like that ::fidgets:: anyway, I wrote this last year, so is kinda old. I made it to “Was it a Dream?” by 30STM  and possibly to “A Beautiful Lie” too. Hope you like, I love it, that’s why I decided to make it the first.

 

Title: Dreamers.

Author: Paola

Rating: PG

Word Count: 418

Summary: “Now all she had left was a dull ache somewhere around her stomach, well that ache and the picture.”  

Author’s Note: Thanks roguemouse for the beta. I did my best to fix the tense issue without harming the story, hope it worked out.

She’d left. She’d finally done it, worked up the courage to pack her stuff and walk out the door. Now all she had left was a dull ache somewhere around her stomach, well that ache and the picture.

Evan didn’t have it anymore, she’d left it there on the fridge, in the same spot it had been since the first time, but still she could see it, clear as day. The faces, John’s close to hers, the giant oak biting into her back, John’s hand in her hair, clashing their faces together playfully, the sunlight creating shades that framed them, framed their love.

Now she was on her way back home, several miles away from him, from them. She looked out the window, the buss’ movement created a shade on the green beside the road, a shade that moved but never changed. A shade just like her, she was still the same person she was when John had started it all, she still liked the same music, and the same drinks, she still wore that purple sweater and she still was a bad driver. John said she’d become another person. “Another… someone”, were his words, just because she wanted to travel, and be with her friends and kiss him in the back of his neck when he was studying.

Maybe it was better this way, maybe John hadn’t seen her after all, not really. Maybe that polaroid that she didn’t take with her was better left there, where it would remind him of a romance that never was, a life they never shared. Maybe that picture was better off away from her, otherwise it would haunt her, the lie it painted.

And yes, Evan knew she was being selfish, and bratty, but John wasn’t exactly what she thought he was either, she too had fallen for the lie.

That day a friend of them had decided to make them his art project or some such, and so they’d posed for his camera. That photograph was proof of their abilities as pretenders, not as lovers. And that’s what she wrote on the note she left for him sitting on the kitchen table. It was all a dream, and now the dream was over. Evan had walked away, and she wasn’t coming back. Her forever meant for good, that’s why she left the picture, she wanted no proof of that dream, no memories.

Hopefully when the dull ache nearby her stomach faded away, so would the picture in her mind.

Comments

[dazedizzy.livejournal.com]

i love this! It's poetic and angsty. The words, the flow of it was so distant, yet so sad, too.

I always like stories about the end, yet there are so very few out there. It's always the beginning that makes people sigh happily...and the end, well, it's best avoided.

I've been trying to write a story, similar to this, but couldn't voice out the finality of what "The End" can really mean. Maybe I'm too optimistic...

But this little vignette captured what "The End" really means. The fact that she left the photograph and walked away without any means of looking back (as I have taken the photgraph to symbolize) is really The End.

Thanks for this!

[penandnotebook]

Oh Izzy! This means the world to me, especially coming from you!

Y'know the funny part? I have issues with the "Beginning" type of writing; I usually get to stuff that's already there. It annoys the hell out of me, but that's just the way of the world...

I'm so ridiculously glad that you got the whole photograph symbolism in there, it so totally is! I wanted an end that ENDED things, I mean, she's leaving town for crying out loud! so yeah, getting that point across was the whole reason for the story.