These are just 3 random extracts that were written as prompts/exercises/on-the-spot jottings... I haven't even got a full plot or story formed but it's my favourite of my current stories and any comments and criticism would be really helpful in getting back into writing. I'm not happy with my style of writing, and I'm sure there are many faults and such. It's (so far) an exploration of human mentality, isolation, and the notion of "love" growing in a sceptic. Lexi fears she is developing these emotions for her one and only friend, Connor, and it tears her apart.
The first time I ventured outside since Connor's death, it was one of those pleasant, summery spring days. One of those days when people would actually take time to spend enjoying life with their friends or family. One of those days when the breeze dances through the leaves, playing with people's hair and enticing the birds to join the dance. When the birds chase each other in circles and swoops. When everything has had it's contrast turned up - every colour is brighter.
I wanted to destroy the world. I wanted to destroy everyone and everything. I wanted to watch people suffer and scream as their perfect homes are destroyed in front of them. As their loved ones are taken from them and destroyed.
I wanted to watch the trees burn, the birds fall from the sky, buildings demolished, I wanted to see fire and sheer force rip people apart, infecting everything around. I wanted the world to suffer what i felt like inside.
I wanted nuclear warfare.
I wanted the apocalypse.
Instead, I got on a bus to the shops and bought all I could stand to buy - bread, butter and cheese. I didn't hang around in the shop, not even for change. They've taken everything else from me, they may as well have the rest. I wanted someone to hijack the bus back. I wanted someone to stab some of the passengers, rob them and rape the women. I wanted a terrorist to blow us all up. But the ride was uneventful and I couldn't wait to escape the idle conversations I heard all around me.
I bundled my one bag of shopping into the fridge, slammed it shut, then rushed to pull the curtains, plunging the small apartment into as much darkness as possible.
* * *
Something inside was swelling under pressure, and all I could think about was how much more of it I could physically take. Even in the moments of silence where he would look at me, just stand and look at me, probably debating whether he should stay or leave, even then, the silence was crushing, the nothingness in the air crashing with the everything inside me to create this hideous, smothering noise, so much so that Connor's lips began to move with no sound managing to reach me through the invisible battle taking place in me.
Against the stillness in the room, everything in my head was spinning, pacing, pulsating with incredible energy. Like some sort of freak, cross-reality time-lapse. Silent noise seemed to be starving my head of the energy it needed to keep my body under control, my lungs suddenly deflated of air and unable to take any more in. Connor's eyes changed in an instant and he stepped towards me. So I grabbed something from my side and threw it. I wasn't aiming, but Connor had to duck to the side and even then it almost skimmed the side of his head, a half-second later crashing into fragments of plastic against the wall behind him. Fragments of plastic and a detached clock face - my alarm clock. Connor looked at me with wide eyes bursting with a look that said he was waiting for something else to come hurtling his way.
Then I screamed.
The sound scared the hell out of me. A ghostly, whimpering, high-pitched wail. Nails were clawing at my scalp and twisting hair around them before I realised they were my own. Connor stepped back as if a fire has just burst into flame in front of him, then I felt a simultaneous shooting pain in both my knees before I realised I had dropped to the floor.
I felt drops of liquid detach and fall from my cheeks and my chin before I felt the tears on my face.
"Lex," his voice settling comfortably in the air between us, restoring the silence. The proper silence. The crushing was fading away and I felt myself return.
What the f**k is all this?
I looked up at Connor, his face full of concern, his posture caught between two thoughts. My face screwed up and more tears followed, silent ones. He stepped forward and crouched down with enough distance for a fully outstretched arm to reach my shoulder. I stood too quickly, a headrush disorientating me as I underestimated the distance between me and my bed, and my leg caught the edge and I fell back onto it. Connor remained crouched down where he was.
"What's this about, Lex?"
"I didn't mean to-"
* * *
Connor began tickling me with a feather. I instantly recoiled from the sensation that shot through the skin on my neck and down my spine, but he chuckled and settled himself back on the bench, gliding the tip of the feather very lightly across my skin. The more I struggled, the more he seemed to persist. His laughter made me laugh harder. It was too much for me sometimes, his laugh.
"Stop it! Please!" I pleaded for mercy. Connor seemed to pause, then flicked the tip of the feather at my cheek before letting it rest on the arm of the bench. I caught my breath and shuddered involuntarily, despite feeling my cheeks burning up.
I eyed him suspiciously, wondering why he hadn't discarded it. He caught my gaze and just returned it with a secretive smile.
He just laughed again, placing one arm around my shoulders and squeezing me sideways into him. I felt his lips momentarily on my head, then his cheek resting against my head. I was scared to move. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I could have sat there with him like that forever.
Connor made no attempt to move either. A short while later, however, he began tapping his fingers rhythmically on the arm of the bench. Still cherishing being so close to him, even feeling his heartbeat, I diverted my eyes from the river in front of us, to his hand, his fingers moving almost electronically. His skin was pale, and his fingers long and slender, and slightly bony, but perfect. I adored his hands. I would kill for the well-being of those hands. I shot a quick glance to my other side, where I could see his other hand dangling over my arm, a perfect extension to the arm resting snugly around my shoulder.
I returned my attention to his other hand. From the way he had pulled me into him, my line of vision fell comfortably in that direction. His fingers were mesmerising, lifting up and down like machinery.
Suddenly becoming aware of how tense I was, I made a conscious effort to relax my body. I felt my face disappear, letting all feeling float away, and suddenly feeling like I was merging into Connor's body, rather than resting awkwardly against it.
I wished the world would disappear around us, be sucked away into a black hole, leaving us suspended in nowhere. I would be his moon, orbiting him consistently, endlessly.