Story-Collection-Board
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26 / F / Basel, Switzerland
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Posted 8/1/08 , edited 8/1/08
because I know (or think) that some of you are writing in their free time.... writing a lot... I'm curious aout it. so here you can put your individual stories and discuss them. It doesn't have to do anything with this story here or with your chara. It can be everything. would be great to read more works of you^^
enjoy
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27 / F / PJAYA, Selangor D...
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Posted 2/10/09
FIRST CHAPITRE

MID DAY. We sat there on the bench like the day of our first date, watching passers-by from the corner of our eyes. It was a day like this too, our first date. I stole a glance at his face and diverted my eyes as he glanced back, pretending to study the ground. It was not a rare sight; the white ground. Not when it is the second week of winter. As I continued staring at my sneakers, snow covering the tips of those favourite shoes of mine, I noticed how freezing cold it has gotten. I put my hands, which were then set neatly on my lap, being entangled together since the last forty minutes or so into the pockets of my sweater. "LOL," I said, when he sneezed out loud. "Sorry," he murmured. Then, silence filled the air. Sighing, I moved my head a little and cast a quick glance at his face. Even today, my heart skipped when I looked at those brown eyes, lashes fluttering as he moved his pupils to look at the ground, resting his soft gaze on the whiteness of it. I looked away just as quickly as I looked at him, fearing that I might get a heart attack if I don't. "Urm," I began. I glanced again to see if he was giving any reaction. None whatsoever. "How long are we going to sit like this?" I finally asked. "I don't know," His answer came as a mumbling."Shall we go back?" I asked again. "No," he answered. "Aren't you cold?" Another question from me. "I am," he muttered. "Then shall we go back?" Back to the first question. "No." answered him. Another long silence after that. The two of us watched all those people in the park retreated slowly to whatever cosiness they have at home as the temperature dropped even lower.

"I'm cold." Again, I was the one breaking the ice. "Sorry." he said. "Shall we go back now?" I asked restlessly. "No." answered him firmly. "But we're not doing anything! It's been an hour already! And it's freezing cold!!" There, I started my whining already. "I know. But, no." he said stubbornly. "You're mean." I accused him loudly. He looked up from the ground and to my horror, fixed his full attention to me. "Wh-what?" I stuttered. He did not answer. Instead, he started to take off his own sweater and put it over my head. I was silent for a few minutes, feeling grateful for the warmth his sweater sent to me. Then, the sadness crept up my soul again. I pulled his sweater from my head slowly and put it back on his lap. "You ruined my hair." I said, swallowing hard. I avoided his stare. "Let's go back." I suggested plain and clear. "NO." he answered. "Then, stay here! I'm going home." I said, raising my voice. As I started to stand up, he said something that made me stop. "The flight's tonight," A droplet of tear escaped from my eye. "Stupid sand," I muttered, rubbing my eyes. I could feel his eyes on me. "Stay," he said in his soft voice, begging but not begging. "Stupid sand," I muttered again, my voice breaking into a sob.
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27 / F / PJAYA, Selangor D...
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Posted 2/10/09
Second Chapitre:

HE WAS MY FIRST LOVE. I had had my eyes on him since our first grade in secondary school. Though I fell in love with his drawing first. I told my sister, who was 10 years older than myself about him. “It’s a puppy love. You’ll get over him in a month or so.” she told me. She must had been lying, because I didn’t. I was surprised to find the feeling spreading wider as the day went by to the point of it being unbearable. “My lungs are full of it.”I retorted to my best friend one sunny day while we were sweeping the classroom’s floor. “Lungs? Why lungs?” she asked. “Heart full of love sounds cliché,” I answered matter-of-factly. I dismissed her raising of eyebrows naturally.

I adore him, yet the thoughts of dating never really entered my mind. My feelings remained a secret to me, to my best friend and to my sister, though I strongly believe she had already forgotten entirely of the matter.

He won an art competition in his second grade. He was already famous throughout the school for his talent in art, but the winning certainly add to his fame. I adore his drawing and paintings just as I adore him, the artist. So, my favourite spot was the corridor near the library where his painting which won the competition was put up in a frame. Looking at the painting I was able to imagine him. His wavy, black hair that was never longer than his collar, his soft smile and his soft, brown gaze, though he never smile or gaze at me. That explains my simple satisfaction from this feeling I have for him. Sometimes, I would peep inside the studio where he would often be, admiring the sight of him mixing the colors, drawing the outline of his painting or stroking his brush deliberately on the canvas.

During the physical examination, I found myself getting surprised by the fact that he had became so tall when he was really just at the same height as myself a year before. That got me thinking, boys really grow, don’t they? He was absorbed into the basketball team because of that. Plus, his skills in basketball was not bad either. He became more and more popular among the girls. It was annoying to see the girls flocking around him every time, but I could do nothing, except went and steal his damaged brush, one he was planning to throw away. “You’re pathetic,” my best friend said. I nodded in agreement. “It’s my lungs,” I told her. She gaped at me for a few seconds. “Just go and tell him already!” she snapped at me. “I can’t,” I said. When she demanded for the reason, I said, “It’s more romantic this way,” much to her annoyance that she refused to accompany me to the toilet afterwards. The truth is, like most girls, I was afraid of rejection. And the thoughts of him looking at me disgustedly sent me deeper in my protection shell. After all, he was the famous boy.

I grew up like most girls did. I went through all the physical and emotional changes, me and my best friend. Together, we tried cosmetics for the first time, went shopping for cute clothes, have a hairdo at the saloon if we can afford it and stuffs. I am not a very beautiful girl. But I’m sure I’m not ugly either, for I had received confessions from boys. I was aware that the number of confessions I received might never outnumber the confessions he received, but still…

I continued watching the boy of my dream from afar, while living my normal teenage life. Yet, I kept his brush in a special box kept deep within my personal drawer in my bedroom and stared at it from time to time, picturing him in my mind. Pathetic much? Yes, I know.


somehow, the heroine is like some kind of a stalker. Scary..i can't believe i wrote this.
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27 / F / PJAYA, Selangor D...
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Posted 2/10/09
Third Chapitre


“You broke your promise,” he said, referring to me bursting into tears earlier. “Easier said than done,” I croaked. I promised him I will not shed a tear when we end everything. I was surprised myself. After a week of constant crying, I thought my tear factory had stopped functioning. Looked like it hadn’t. The snow was falling. I rubbed my swollen eyes with my gloved hands. It was getting colder by the minute. “Have you packed?” I asked in a broken voice. “Yes,” he answered. “When is your departing time?” I sobbed. “7.30 p.m.,” he said monotonously. “That’s three hours from now,” God, the tears were flowing like waterfalls. He suddenly embraced me.

“When will you come back?”
“I don’t know,”
“Is there a possibility you won’t be coming back?”
“I think so,”
“Come back, won’t you?” Silence.
“Come back, I’ll wait here,”
“I can’t say ‘yes’,”
“You mean it’s a ‘no’?”
“It’s not,”
“What is it then?”
“I don’t know,”
“Won’t you tell me something that you know?” Long silence. Say ‘yes’...
“Won’t you?” Longer silence. Please say ‘yes’…

“So you won’t?” Please…Can’t he hear the sound of my heart breaking? I sobbed uncontrollably.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded.
“Come back, I’ll wait,”
“Please don’t cry,”
“Please come back…,”

He pulled back. I watched as he buried his face into his hands. My tears stop flowing when I saw his own streaming down from the gap in between his fingers, and dripped onto my lap. It was sorrowfully warm.
Story Writer.
10559 cr points
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27 / F / PJAYA, Selangor D...
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Posted 2/10/09
okay..i'm damn bored..no one's around...no one ever post here..so, yeah...whatever..
Story Writer.
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27 / F / PJAYA, Selangor D...
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Posted 2/14/09
lol..dun hate me...

DURING our fourth grade in secondary school, I suddenly gave up my feelings for that quiet, multi-talented boy in my class. I guess my lungs were quite worn out. My best friend voiced out her suspicion about my decision. “Are you sure? It has been almost four years,” she said, furrowing her brows when she heard me. “I’m sure! I’m going to forget him and find a better boyfriend!” I said, all pumped up and ready. “What?” I asked when I saw her indifferent stare. “That’s exactly what I’ve been telling you this whole time and often you’ll give me the same answer, that you won’t find any one better than him, that your lungs are too full of him. So, don’t come here and talk about this kind of thing to me. You’re bullshitting yourself.” she answered. Irritated, I pulled her cheek hard. She yelled in pain. “That hurts!” she whined.

“Look who’s talking. You’ve been stalking M since our second grade. A bit later than myself, maybe, but we’re of the same species. So, instead of criticizing me, why don’t you help me find a boyfriend?” I asked, narrowing my eyes into a threatening slit-like shape. “Okay, okay!” she said.

I need not find any of them though, for I received another confession just the next day after. This time, I accepted without further ado. And that was how I came to date P. He was an okay boy, quite good-looking and was not doing badly in academic. He showered me with gifts and love messages. Some of them made me throw up though, so I deleted quite a lot of them. We were in good terms until the second month. He stopped giving me love messages, which was relieving actually. Not long after that, he started coming late to our dates. Then, one day, I found myself waiting for two hours while receiving pitiful glances from passer-bys (is this correct? ^^;) . I decided to break up with him first thing in the morning, considering the fact that he did not even bother to call, the anger welling inside my core. Soon, I was shopping with my best friend. And just before I stepped into the changing room to try a new skirt, I saw P with a girl. I cancelled my intention to try the skirt and hide among the clothes to watch them. It must had been a group outing because I saw more recognizable faces joining them afterwards. But it was very clear they mostly come in pairs. Couple’s outing. Good, P was two-timing me. Without further ado, I went up to him who looked surprised, asked him about the goings-on, to which he failed to answer and there goes my hand. Not a slap, a punch instead. “I wish you a Merry Dating. Let’s hope he’s not two-timing you either.” I said with a satisfied smile on my face, referring to the perplexed-looking girl beside him and walked out of the shop, hand in hand with my best friend.

I did not cry at all. Rather, I felt guilty about it because I had seen broken-hearted friends crying their eyes out to me. I felt horribly guilty, because I was very much aware of the fact that I had never been in love with P. I felt guilty for slapping him too. I told my best friend that, wondering aloud (I was wondering in mere whispers though, in the toilet) about if I should not have slapped him. She called me stupid, and assured me he deserved it. “He was two-timing you after only 2 months of dating, get it?” she said with her cool, charismatic voice, one of the things I envied her for. “Well, yeah. But don’t you think I was two-timing also?” I whispered. “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked boredly. “I never really like him. My lungs were full of other boy this whole time. It’s two-timing too, isn’t it?” I said. She stared at me from the mirror. “O…kay. Now I’m confused. That’s why I said you’re bulshitting yourself the other day. LOL, I don’t know already!” she answered, looking frustrated. “It’s not fair, I thought if I go out with someone else, I’ll eventually forget him for real. Looks like I got it all wrong,” I sighed.

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