‹ Prequel: Intensified.
Status: Done. :]
Intensified. Rewritten.
Rewrite.
It was her quiet little thinking spot, the small pond, quite a far walk into the woods behind her house, she was almost convinced that she was the only one that knew about it until she saw a boy about her age, maybe a slight bit older sitting at her usual spot on a fallen tree. His light brown hair tousled around, with a leaf stuck in the back suggesting he had quite a hard walk through the woods as well.
She would come back; he looked too deep in thought. Every time she came back, he was there, with the same tousled look and possibly a piece of foliage stuck to some part of his body, sitting on her log. This had gone on for about two weeks before gave in and took a seat next to him.
As they sat there in a comfortable silence, she began to think of all her times she had come to the small body of water. She had never touched the water, as she was almost terrified of stepping into her bath tub. She remembered her quaint little thinking spot as utter horror, yet complete bliss.
She looked out into the water as she remembered each shift in the weather, the soft wind gently tugging on each strand of her delicate white-blonde hair. The light rain drops gently cascading down her pale skin creating wonderful needed refreshment. Even the soft snow flakes gently kissing her cheek as she sat by the frozen pond.
She thought back to when she wished some one was by her side to experience it with her, though mostly she was thankful that no one was sitting with her, so she could sing with passion and dance with soul. So that no one could witness her tears, or see who she was inside. So no one would be able to laugh.
She had come here when she was hurt. She had come here when she was happy. She could cry and scream, and no one would hear her. She could laugh and smile and nobody could see her.
The day her mother died she came to her very own secret spot, and sat down on her very own secret log. She cried until her eyes were bright red and screamed until her voice gave out. She was glad that no one was there with her that day. She didn’t like others to see her cry, she didn’t like others to see her broken.
The day she won a metal for volleyball she came to her secret spot and sat on her secret log. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She wore the metal to the lake and talked to the small bush beside her. She wished someone would have been there with her that time.
As she remembered all these things about the pond, she had come to realize she was speaking out loud. A warm soothing hand lightly brushed her, she looked over at the boy's bright blue smiling eyes and heard “I'd never laugh, as long as you promise to never laugh at me” She nodded and smiled.
She now meets him there every day, their little thinking spot. Neither ever laughed at the other. She sobbed and giggled; He cried and laughed. They loved and fought but they always came back to the secret spot. Everyday. She looks back to when she didn’t have anyone to comfort her or to tell a story. She now thinks silently to herself that she was glad that she now has some one to share her quiet little pond with, because it intensified every emotion when he was there.
She would come back; he looked too deep in thought. Every time she came back, he was there, with the same tousled look and possibly a piece of foliage stuck to some part of his body, sitting on her log. This had gone on for about two weeks before gave in and took a seat next to him.
As they sat there in a comfortable silence, she began to think of all her times she had come to the small body of water. She had never touched the water, as she was almost terrified of stepping into her bath tub. She remembered her quaint little thinking spot as utter horror, yet complete bliss.
She looked out into the water as she remembered each shift in the weather, the soft wind gently tugging on each strand of her delicate white-blonde hair. The light rain drops gently cascading down her pale skin creating wonderful needed refreshment. Even the soft snow flakes gently kissing her cheek as she sat by the frozen pond.
She thought back to when she wished some one was by her side to experience it with her, though mostly she was thankful that no one was sitting with her, so she could sing with passion and dance with soul. So that no one could witness her tears, or see who she was inside. So no one would be able to laugh.
She had come here when she was hurt. She had come here when she was happy. She could cry and scream, and no one would hear her. She could laugh and smile and nobody could see her.
The day her mother died she came to her very own secret spot, and sat down on her very own secret log. She cried until her eyes were bright red and screamed until her voice gave out. She was glad that no one was there with her that day. She didn’t like others to see her cry, she didn’t like others to see her broken.
The day she won a metal for volleyball she came to her secret spot and sat on her secret log. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She wore the metal to the lake and talked to the small bush beside her. She wished someone would have been there with her that time.
As she remembered all these things about the pond, she had come to realize she was speaking out loud. A warm soothing hand lightly brushed her, she looked over at the boy's bright blue smiling eyes and heard “I'd never laugh, as long as you promise to never laugh at me” She nodded and smiled.
She now meets him there every day, their little thinking spot. Neither ever laughed at the other. She sobbed and giggled; He cried and laughed. They loved and fought but they always came back to the secret spot. Everyday. She looks back to when she didn’t have anyone to comfort her or to tell a story. She now thinks silently to herself that she was glad that she now has some one to share her quiet little pond with, because it intensified every emotion when he was there.
♠ ♠ ♠
I hope you like the rewrite. :] Word count: 612