Her
Posted: 06 Apr 2019, 00:09
A/N:
This story was originally written in Norwegian. I wrote this three years ago as a school assignment. English is actually my third language, so I would love to get some grammatical/technical feedback. I hope you enjoy it!
The sun glares down from the cloudless sky. The sun rays dance between the green grass and colorful flowers. Nature is in motion, from the smallest daisy to the largest tree on top of the hill. In the midst of all this stands a lonely white house. The house's white walls and the red roof tiles were once in harmony with the vivacious nature.
Not anymore. The once spotless walls are covered with black spots that resemble holes. The wood logs that lie in neat rows behind the house give an illusion of order, but just a few feet away lies a chaotic pile of untouched logs. The dirty windows show no sign of curtains, no sign of life. The house that once was a joy to watch looks like a sick person - pale face and empty eyes.
I can feel my insides shimmer. I don't want to go in, because I know what hides in that lifeless shell. Yet, I push down the growing anxiety and take a heavy step towards the house. The summer breeze feels warm against my cold cheeks. I try my best to keep my mind blank. If I spare a moment to think, I will without a doubt back down. No, I need to do this. For her.
I take a breath, before putting my key into the rusty lock. She's behind the door. I know it. Feel it. My erratic heartbeat is telling me to turn away and run, but I stay still. Closing my eyes, I twist the key. It turns a half circle and then stops. A soft "click" comes from the door. It's open.
The moment I push the door open is the moment I see her. She is just a few steps away. Her cold eyes meet mine in a few painful seconds before she tears her gaze away. It wasn't always like this. We used to be close. There was a time when a simple eye-contact with her made joy surge through my body. A smile used to light up her face when she saw me. Her eyes would look straight into mine, studying me in depth until she was satisfied with whatever she saw. She used to love me like I loved her.
Unlike now.
We look at each other like strangers. She seems like a stranger. The face that I once knew so well has changed into something almost unrecognizable. Cracked lips. Pale skin. She has bags beneath her grey eyes - those beautiful eyes that were once blue - as a proof of all those sleepless nights. The disappointment on her face speaks in volumes. I don't know if she's disappointed in me, or the world, or life, or the dreams that never came true. Or maybe it's just... everything.
When did it go wrong?
It wasn't always perfect between us before, but there was a time the words I said reached her. I encouraged her and saw her regain her hope - her motivation. She was so beautiful then. Her eyes shone with determination, and her face radiated life. She was free, and the sky was her only limit. She had big dreams, but... slowly, life shattered her. Time after time, I saw they quench her light. "Be realistic," they said. "Face it. You can't do it. You're not good enough." I wanted to stop them, but I couldn't. Because somewhere inside of me knew that they were right.
"Don't listen to them!" was what I told her.
In the beginning, she would smile at me. A strained smile, but a smile still. "Of course," she'd reply. But it could only happen a few times before it no longer worked. No matter what I said, she wouldn't listen. She didn't believe me anymore. She gave up. I was furious that she was defeated so easily. She gave up on her dreams, so I gave up on her.
Standing before me now, she is so close, yet a million miles away. "How long?" I ask softly.
She looks surprised that something came out of my mouth. I'm equally startled, but I don't stop. Now that I have started, I can't stop. "How long are you gonna stay like this? How long are you gonna hide in this place?"
She doesn't answer. She just stares at me. Emotionless.
"Isn't it lonely?" I whisper. That sentence gets a reaction from her. A slight response that could easily be overlooked, but I know her too well. Her eyes shimmer with tears that she tries to hold back. She refuses to let my words reach her. I grit my teeth together as anger rises inside of me.
"Wake up!" I scream. She seems to jump at the raised volume, but I ignore it. "You think it helps to shut yourself in? You think that changes anything?"
More emotions flood into her face: anger, hurt, regret. "We both know how disappointed you are by now, so can you stop? Can you stop acting so pitiful?!" I struggle with keeping my voice calm and even. "I can't stand the sight of you! Why do you live this way? You're a spineless coward. You act like it's the end of the world. Can't you tell that it drives me insane?!"
I don't know when it started, but my love for her turned into hate. I hate her hopelessness. I hate how weak she was. I hate her, I love her, I hate her!
She's crying. Big, fat teardrops are rolling down her cheek, but her eyes never leave me. She is silently telling me to stop, yet she wants me to continue. She needs this, just as much as I do.
"I hate you! You think you're the only one in pain? Why did you give up so easily?!" I take a vexed step closer. We're close now. Closer than we have ever been these past months.
I feel rage bubbling inside of me, and I see it in her face. She hates me just as much. You gave up on me first is what her angry, red eyes are saying. Tears run endlessly down her face.
"Get yourself together! Who cares if you feel like dying! I don't care how broken you are! Stop waiting for someone to save you! Nobody's coming, so pick up the pieces yourself! Fix it yourself!"
Unable to tame my screaming anger, I raise my fist in the spur of the moment and punch her as hard as I can. She shatters to pieces. Blood trickles down my arm. Fragments of glass fall to my feet.
Even though shattered, she is still there. Still looking at me, but there's something different in her eyes. The burning fury between us is gone.
"You can do this," I say, barely a whisper, as I lean against the broken mirror.
"I can do this."
This story was originally written in Norwegian. I wrote this three years ago as a school assignment. English is actually my third language, so I would love to get some grammatical/technical feedback. I hope you enjoy it!
The sun glares down from the cloudless sky. The sun rays dance between the green grass and colorful flowers. Nature is in motion, from the smallest daisy to the largest tree on top of the hill. In the midst of all this stands a lonely white house. The house's white walls and the red roof tiles were once in harmony with the vivacious nature.
Not anymore. The once spotless walls are covered with black spots that resemble holes. The wood logs that lie in neat rows behind the house give an illusion of order, but just a few feet away lies a chaotic pile of untouched logs. The dirty windows show no sign of curtains, no sign of life. The house that once was a joy to watch looks like a sick person - pale face and empty eyes.
I can feel my insides shimmer. I don't want to go in, because I know what hides in that lifeless shell. Yet, I push down the growing anxiety and take a heavy step towards the house. The summer breeze feels warm against my cold cheeks. I try my best to keep my mind blank. If I spare a moment to think, I will without a doubt back down. No, I need to do this. For her.
I take a breath, before putting my key into the rusty lock. She's behind the door. I know it. Feel it. My erratic heartbeat is telling me to turn away and run, but I stay still. Closing my eyes, I twist the key. It turns a half circle and then stops. A soft "click" comes from the door. It's open.
The moment I push the door open is the moment I see her. She is just a few steps away. Her cold eyes meet mine in a few painful seconds before she tears her gaze away. It wasn't always like this. We used to be close. There was a time when a simple eye-contact with her made joy surge through my body. A smile used to light up her face when she saw me. Her eyes would look straight into mine, studying me in depth until she was satisfied with whatever she saw. She used to love me like I loved her.
Unlike now.
We look at each other like strangers. She seems like a stranger. The face that I once knew so well has changed into something almost unrecognizable. Cracked lips. Pale skin. She has bags beneath her grey eyes - those beautiful eyes that were once blue - as a proof of all those sleepless nights. The disappointment on her face speaks in volumes. I don't know if she's disappointed in me, or the world, or life, or the dreams that never came true. Or maybe it's just... everything.
When did it go wrong?
It wasn't always perfect between us before, but there was a time the words I said reached her. I encouraged her and saw her regain her hope - her motivation. She was so beautiful then. Her eyes shone with determination, and her face radiated life. She was free, and the sky was her only limit. She had big dreams, but... slowly, life shattered her. Time after time, I saw they quench her light. "Be realistic," they said. "Face it. You can't do it. You're not good enough." I wanted to stop them, but I couldn't. Because somewhere inside of me knew that they were right.
"Don't listen to them!" was what I told her.
In the beginning, she would smile at me. A strained smile, but a smile still. "Of course," she'd reply. But it could only happen a few times before it no longer worked. No matter what I said, she wouldn't listen. She didn't believe me anymore. She gave up. I was furious that she was defeated so easily. She gave up on her dreams, so I gave up on her.
Standing before me now, she is so close, yet a million miles away. "How long?" I ask softly.
She looks surprised that something came out of my mouth. I'm equally startled, but I don't stop. Now that I have started, I can't stop. "How long are you gonna stay like this? How long are you gonna hide in this place?"
She doesn't answer. She just stares at me. Emotionless.
"Isn't it lonely?" I whisper. That sentence gets a reaction from her. A slight response that could easily be overlooked, but I know her too well. Her eyes shimmer with tears that she tries to hold back. She refuses to let my words reach her. I grit my teeth together as anger rises inside of me.
"Wake up!" I scream. She seems to jump at the raised volume, but I ignore it. "You think it helps to shut yourself in? You think that changes anything?"
More emotions flood into her face: anger, hurt, regret. "We both know how disappointed you are by now, so can you stop? Can you stop acting so pitiful?!" I struggle with keeping my voice calm and even. "I can't stand the sight of you! Why do you live this way? You're a spineless coward. You act like it's the end of the world. Can't you tell that it drives me insane?!"
I don't know when it started, but my love for her turned into hate. I hate her hopelessness. I hate how weak she was. I hate her, I love her, I hate her!
She's crying. Big, fat teardrops are rolling down her cheek, but her eyes never leave me. She is silently telling me to stop, yet she wants me to continue. She needs this, just as much as I do.
"I hate you! You think you're the only one in pain? Why did you give up so easily?!" I take a vexed step closer. We're close now. Closer than we have ever been these past months.
I feel rage bubbling inside of me, and I see it in her face. She hates me just as much. You gave up on me first is what her angry, red eyes are saying. Tears run endlessly down her face.
"Get yourself together! Who cares if you feel like dying! I don't care how broken you are! Stop waiting for someone to save you! Nobody's coming, so pick up the pieces yourself! Fix it yourself!"
Unable to tame my screaming anger, I raise my fist in the spur of the moment and punch her as hard as I can. She shatters to pieces. Blood trickles down my arm. Fragments of glass fall to my feet.
Even though shattered, she is still there. Still looking at me, but there's something different in her eyes. The burning fury between us is gone.
"You can do this," I say, barely a whisper, as I lean against the broken mirror.
"I can do this."
