Status: Completed
Sometimes: A Rose
2/2
Her head shakes swiftly, a tear racing down her cheek as she turns away, wiping it off furiously…and leaving him standing there, rejected. Shy boy looks down, as taunts crowd in..as shouts of ‘REJECTED’ are hurled at him. He runs outside with his rose, twin tears sliding down his cheeks.
He has never hit the low she hit, back in elementary school. Nor was he one of the ones who screamed taunts at her…who besieged her everyday with that special kind of hatred that small children harbor for those who are different. He was just Joe. Just a normal kid, turning a blind eye to the displays of kids like Demi..lest he become one of them. Yet he never turned a completely blind eye. He always tried to smile at her encouragingly, tried to include her as much as he could. He always thought she was gorgeous, before the weight loss and the makeover. Gorgeous on outside…and hurt on the inside.
Standing outside, the girl kicks at the ground regretfully. She ran out here after she rejected the boy. But she couldn’t run fast enough to escape the sound of mockery. It wasn’t aimed at her, it was aimed at the boy…but there’s still a place in her heart that’s scarred, that twinges whenever cruelty seeps through the air and strikes at someone.
Truth be told, she likes him. Likes Joe. She thinks he’s cute…thinks that on the rare occasions that he opens his mouth, he’s funny. But there are things that are blocking her from him…a wall, built from all the words they screamed at her so many playgrounds ago. A fear, that all he’s doing is building onto that wall…not trying to break through it.
Tilting her head, she hears a muffled, choked sound…sees a boy sprawled on the snowy, barren ground, his arms wrapped tight around his torso. A discarded rose lies crumpled on the ground, marked by hopeful sweat…and dejected tears.
Demi recognizes that posture, those sounds. Her throat aches suddenly, as if remembering all the times she shoved the tears back. Her body twitches slightly, as if alerted to the fact that she might soon need to adopt the same posture…might soon break badly enough that her arms are the only thing that keep her together.
“Joe.” The word is whispered, flying through the air to the grief stricken boy lying on the frozen soccer field. “Demi.” The answer is choked, is embarrassed…and yet, still has the taint of hope. Why did she come after him? “Why are you crying?” She whispers, and he shrugs, looking up at her. She’s standing over him, her eyes unreadable…but he can see the emotions warring in their depths. And he knows, that if he lies to her right now….if he speaks wrongly, she will walk away. Walk away, taking with her the burden of her childhood years. Walk away, taking with her a future where she could lay them to rest. A future with Joe. “Because you rejected me.” His words are nakedly honest, and they…impress her. They make an impression on her…on the defensive walls around her.
Shock appears in her eyes. The idea that she has the power to hurt someone else with her feelings, her words, her actions…has never occurred to her. She’s been in his position all too many times…but this position is new and foreign. And as she looks down, she can see a uncommon look in his eyes. A fervor, a shine. A way of looking at her that makes the rest of the world insignificant. She’s getting lost in his cinnamon spiced depths, letting the love in them cancel out her pain, her distrust…
He sits up carefully, never letting go of her gaze as he reaches out, picking up the rose and holding it out to her wordlessly. Again. But this time it’s different..this time they aren’t just a boy and a girl. This time they aren’t victim and possible attacker. This time they’re Demi and Joe. She gazes at the rose, her lips twitching into a confused smile…her shoulders straightening, her eyes regaining a luster they haven’t seen since she was five years old..before she reaches out, gripping the leafy stem.
Sometimes, people hurt us. Sometimes…we hurt ourselves because of them. We put ourselves down, we change ourselves, just for their approval. We forgot that there are people out there who love us just as we are. And sometimes…we get so caught up in a storm of hurt that we forget how to trust. Forget that sometimes…it’s OK to let someone in.
It’s OK to reach out, to take a rose from a shy boy’s hand…and let it lead you into a future of being who you truly are.
He has never hit the low she hit, back in elementary school. Nor was he one of the ones who screamed taunts at her…who besieged her everyday with that special kind of hatred that small children harbor for those who are different. He was just Joe. Just a normal kid, turning a blind eye to the displays of kids like Demi..lest he become one of them. Yet he never turned a completely blind eye. He always tried to smile at her encouragingly, tried to include her as much as he could. He always thought she was gorgeous, before the weight loss and the makeover. Gorgeous on outside…and hurt on the inside.
Standing outside, the girl kicks at the ground regretfully. She ran out here after she rejected the boy. But she couldn’t run fast enough to escape the sound of mockery. It wasn’t aimed at her, it was aimed at the boy…but there’s still a place in her heart that’s scarred, that twinges whenever cruelty seeps through the air and strikes at someone.
Truth be told, she likes him. Likes Joe. She thinks he’s cute…thinks that on the rare occasions that he opens his mouth, he’s funny. But there are things that are blocking her from him…a wall, built from all the words they screamed at her so many playgrounds ago. A fear, that all he’s doing is building onto that wall…not trying to break through it.
Tilting her head, she hears a muffled, choked sound…sees a boy sprawled on the snowy, barren ground, his arms wrapped tight around his torso. A discarded rose lies crumpled on the ground, marked by hopeful sweat…and dejected tears.
Demi recognizes that posture, those sounds. Her throat aches suddenly, as if remembering all the times she shoved the tears back. Her body twitches slightly, as if alerted to the fact that she might soon need to adopt the same posture…might soon break badly enough that her arms are the only thing that keep her together.
“Joe.” The word is whispered, flying through the air to the grief stricken boy lying on the frozen soccer field. “Demi.” The answer is choked, is embarrassed…and yet, still has the taint of hope. Why did she come after him? “Why are you crying?” She whispers, and he shrugs, looking up at her. She’s standing over him, her eyes unreadable…but he can see the emotions warring in their depths. And he knows, that if he lies to her right now….if he speaks wrongly, she will walk away. Walk away, taking with her the burden of her childhood years. Walk away, taking with her a future where she could lay them to rest. A future with Joe. “Because you rejected me.” His words are nakedly honest, and they…impress her. They make an impression on her…on the defensive walls around her.
Shock appears in her eyes. The idea that she has the power to hurt someone else with her feelings, her words, her actions…has never occurred to her. She’s been in his position all too many times…but this position is new and foreign. And as she looks down, she can see a uncommon look in his eyes. A fervor, a shine. A way of looking at her that makes the rest of the world insignificant. She’s getting lost in his cinnamon spiced depths, letting the love in them cancel out her pain, her distrust…
He sits up carefully, never letting go of her gaze as he reaches out, picking up the rose and holding it out to her wordlessly. Again. But this time it’s different..this time they aren’t just a boy and a girl. This time they aren’t victim and possible attacker. This time they’re Demi and Joe. She gazes at the rose, her lips twitching into a confused smile…her shoulders straightening, her eyes regaining a luster they haven’t seen since she was five years old..before she reaches out, gripping the leafy stem.
Sometimes, people hurt us. Sometimes…we hurt ourselves because of them. We put ourselves down, we change ourselves, just for their approval. We forgot that there are people out there who love us just as we are. And sometimes…we get so caught up in a storm of hurt that we forget how to trust. Forget that sometimes…it’s OK to let someone in.
It’s OK to reach out, to take a rose from a shy boy’s hand…and let it lead you into a future of being who you truly are.
♠ ♠ ♠
Once again, reviews really are much appreciated :) Read counts are lovely, but I do like knowing how people felt about the story...not just that they happened to click on it.