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Post by eli daniel ackerman on Aug 31, 2010 2:08:03 GMT
  WAVING FROM SUCH GREAT HEIGHTS."Come down now," they'll say.
His mother had asked him to stay for dinner. What a disaster. But he couldn't say he was surprised. It was always a disaster. It never went well. He wasn't as optimistic as his mother, who had yet to give up hope on the idea of the boy and his stepfather getting along. The worst part? Eli had realized it on his way down the street: he wasn't going anywhere, he wasn't doing anything, he was just killing time before he had to go back home. Where else could he go? He was still a kid, there was no place for him but home. Fuck... Even the strongest profanities didn't express his frustration.
At least it was a nice night. Well, nice enough. How did that song he liked go again? 'A beautiful night for being lonely'. That's definately what he was. Lonely. Eli didn't even have Duncan with him tonight. The dog was impressive; of everyone he had ever met, Duncan was the only one who could 1. sleep comfortably curled into a ball half his original size, and 2. sleep at all with people screaming across the house at eachother. Eli cleared his throat in a subtle way, knowing some of the disgusting sounds people could make with their vocal chords (despite being alone, with no people around to disgust). Having taken part in the screaming, he was a bit hoarse; it was a big house to shout across. Let sleeping dogs lie. That was the rule, and Eli took it into consideration when fumbling for his car keys and slamming the back door behind him.
Eli hadn't been able to deal with Dan anymore, which wasn't uncommon. Over the past few months especially, he had burned up more gas than ever before with all the drives he took after the arguments. He didn't know what he would do if he hadn't located small sanctuaries around the town. However, many of these sanctuaries closed when the sun went down. The park gave him peace, quiet, and a place to think even through the late hours of the night. Grocery store, that had been his excuse. He had ripped the slim piece of paper from the refrigerator and stuffed it into his pocket when he went out the door. That's another thing that had changed within the past few months: the small family never seemed to run out of anything food-wise. It was because Dan got extra irritable this late at night, and the grocery store was the innocent part of this town open all hours of the day and night. The list of food was small and petty, some items impatiently underlined, meaning Dan wanted them. Those that were circled and underlined meant he really wanted them. Eli knew he was going to "accidentally" forget a lot of them.
Mainly because the grocery store wasn't the point. The grocery store was never the point. Whenever he needed to get out of the house, immidiately, he used the grocery store as a cover and took a walk under the stars. Something he never really did, considering he was a runner, and never walked when he could run. And considering that he was an only child and his mother was more than nervous about murderers and kidnappers roaming the streets. Truthfully, living in upper-lower-middle-class Detroit had made Eli the same way, which means it was stupid of him to be trekking around the dimly-lit park in the middle of the night, after all, he could trekk through the well-lighted streets, try to find a nightclub and try his luck at looking eighteen, or swing by the residential area to see if anyone was still awake. Hell, he could trekk through the grocery store. But there was something about the night air that calmed the boy.
He had taken his walk, contemplated opening up the one lonely package of cigarettes he had stolen from Dan a ways back, then decided if the night air and the gentle breeze running through the space around him wasn't enough to settle his frustration a cigarette wouldn't either, and headed back to his car. It was close to three o'clock now, and even a peaceful little city like Cornwall had cops. Or so Eli had been told. And at the annoying age of seventeen, Eli was still subject to curfew. And so he started the car and headed away from the lake (making sure he checked the backseat for any kidnappers before leaving.) With his foot firmly holding the brake pedal, the boy suddenly felt a tearing emotion close to depression. A night for being lonely, it seemed that stage had passed. He needed someone to talk to. Someone other than the stars in the sky. Maybe he would swing by the residential streets anyways, see if anyone was a secret insomniac.
The boy had just pulled into the street when the car gave a grand sputter, an exceptionally ugly noise, enough of one to cause Eli to pull over on the side of the road, as he knew what that sound meant. That was Noise #4. And of all the problematic noises, #4 was the worst. Kind of like someone's soul was dying, throwing up, and scratching its especially long nails across a chalkboard simultaneously. The old Skyliner looked brand new: a still-retractable white hood (rare for its age) and a sparkling cherry-red body, the car was practically Grease Lightning. Except for the engine. Much unlike the famous, powerful, street-racing greaser car, Eli's sputtered and coughed at him at the most unintelligible times. Like now, when he simply wanted to find someone else in this world, just one person. Of course, Eli could merely drive cars, fixing them wasn't anywhere near in his range of talents. The car had cost him nothing, as it was a present from Dan's grandchild-loving, richer-than-God parents, despite the fact that Eli was technically not their grandchild. Maybe that's why the car was so great but the engine was so useless: he was only an almost-grandchild to them.
He pulled the keys from the ignition, ceasing the awful sound. Eli let out a sigh and got out of the car, there was nothing he could do other than pop the hood, stare at the mess of machinery and hope someone driving by knew their way around the inside of a car. From what he could tell, the engine wasn't letting out intimidating smoke like it did when the car made Noise #2, the most uncommon and severe of the problems, and nothing was obviously out of place like Noise #5 situations. Noise #'s 1 and 3 had something to do with a shortage of gas and oil, or so he thought. Noise #4 was the tricky one that had given him no clues. The car was so impressive, and when the engine decided it was feeling good, it showed. Now, however, it was embarrassing, he almost didn't want anyone to stop by. But that was a huge lie, he needed human contact, needed it. He refused to go to crawling back to his house and go to bed knowing the last person he would speak to was Dan.
"Awesome," Eli muttered, tolerance level shrinking. Now he needed someone for reasons other than throwing a rope down the pit of despair to drag him out. In his loneliness, the boy was stranded. Leaning against the side of his car, his eyes watched the street closely. For any sign of headlights or footsteps. Anyone who could save him one mental breakdown and an auto repair bill. At least it was a nice night. [/blockquote][/color]
EVERYTHING LOOKS PERFECT FROM FAR AWAY."Come down now," but we'll stay.[/font]
STATUS; complete.[/size] WORDCOUNT; 1,271.[/size] TAGGED; open.[/size] JAMS; beautiful night -- burden brothers.[/size] NOTES; eli is just about as socially deprived as his rper right now xP.[/size][/center] |
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Post by nicholas argall on Aug 31, 2010 22:46:24 GMT
 after tonight - - - - - - -
- - - this will be a lifetime agoNick shivered. And it wasn’t even that cold. Something about the night must have done it, though he couldn’t have figured out what it was. It happened a lot, that little convulsion. Perhaps it was a breeze slithering by invisibly, and Nick looked around himself to see if that were true. Like he could have seen the breeze; ludicrous, he shook his head. Nick might not have been in his right mind at that point. He had done nothing all day and his schedule had changed little well into the night. That wasn’t well out of the ordinary. Nick had no solid job to go to every day and had not committed to furthering his education. College had never been his thing, just like high school hadn’t been for him either. Nick wasn’t social and going back to school was placing him directly into that situation. He would say no for as long as he had the ability. He didn’t need affirmation that he was smart, or likewise for someone to tell him he wasn’t smart enough. He was making steady money and that was all that he cared about on the subject. The means were a different story. He didn’t know in the beginning that a private enterprise would take off.
For the time being, he was sitting on one of the tunnels that dissected the playground pieces from one another. Dark had fallen. Any children who were coming to the park at this hour were up to no good, or shouldn’t have been classified as children. High school kids didn’t count, not in his opinion. And he really didn’t like those kids very much, despite the fact that he was selling to quite a few of them. It wasn’t his choice who wanted to smoke or whatever it was; people could do whatever the fuck they wanted. He certainly did. Nick had found that very freeing over the last few years, being away from his native New York, away from his stupid fucking family, away from everything. This small town was like another planet. The air was so clean. It was so… quiet. It hadn’t ceased to amaze him, and he doubted that it would any time soon. He could hear himself think. He could see the smoke from his cigarette as it traveled up in spirals before disappearing. He smiled a little as he watched the smoke trails, shifting his feet, dropping his legs over the side of the tunnel. It was two or three feet to the wood chips beneath the soles of his shoes, looking farther away to him. Perhaps it was the dark that changed what he was seeing. The ground was like a moving, slimy blackness. He blinked and there were shadowy wood chips everywhere. Nick let loose a quiet chuckle.
Laying back onto the hard plastic, Nick took a long drag and breathed smoke for a moment. He closed his eyes, thinking that he could sleep there. Maybe he could. His apartment was two miles away, not that far to walk or run, but he was comfortable tonight. Nick was giving the idea more and more thought when his very nice silence was broken by the sound of a car. He frowned immediately, annoyed at the disturbance, and even more annoyed that it was a car. He had had enough of fucking cars. Walking was easier and healthier than cars, and made less noise. He craned his neck to look to where the sound had come from. A boy. A high school boy probably. Nick gave the shadowy figure a long hard look and turned his eyes away. Car troubles… well, he couldn’t have helped out anyway. Hopefully, the kid would fix it himself or call somebody to help him. Or just leave. There was always that. Nick sighed and took another drag of his cigarette, lighting the tip orange in the dark. He closed his eyes and tried to return to his peaceful state, but he was too aware now that there was someone else standing around close by.
ooc;; my post looks so short compared to yours . |
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Post by eli daniel ackerman on Sept 1, 2010 0:44:25 GMT
WAVING FROM SUCH GREAT HEIGHTS."Come down now," they'll say.
So, recap of this lovely situation. Eli was alone. He was devestatingly alone, and with every passing minute he felt more and more deprived of social contact. His frustration-curing walk hadn't been successful, and he was more frustrated than ever. He needed someone to talk to, someone to a. listen to his thoughts, b. get his mind off everything, or c. all of the above. He wouldn't find that at home. Oh well, things could be worse. At least he wasn't stranded by the lake at three in the morning with a broken car and a mere fifteen dollars and seventy-five cents in his pockets. Oh, wait... Somewhere the one stray cat of Cornwall let out its infamous yowl. The only other being under the night sky. No, it wasn't all that great of a situation to be in. Infact, he cursed quietly to himself about how much the situation sucked. The boy was staring intently at the road in front of him, looking for anything. Headlights, people, dogs, police, absolutely anyone. He let out a sigh and took a short break to glance over at his surroundings. It was surprising, more than anything to see another male that had appeared seemingly from nowhere.
Really, he was just surprised in general. It was like he went into some sort of trance. All he knew was the mess of the car in front of him, the empty road in his range of vision, the cat in the darkness, and suddenly a figure appeared. With a small yelp he jumped back an inch or two, shocked by his company. But, squinting through the darkness, he found it was not a mugger or the cat or some other terrible being of the night, but a man he was positive he had seen roaming the streets nearby his house/grocery/store/somewhere once or twice (though he wasn't in the clear yet, the nightlife of Cornwall residents proved to be quite unexpected on occasion, still, Eli felt that both he and his wallet were safe from the potential wrath of the man before him). Wide-eyed with shock, Eli shook the surprise from his mind. Well, if his presence hadn't been known before, the other was definately aware of him now. "Sorry..." he called out, taking a few cautious steps towards the male as a bashful sort of smile crossing his face. "You sort of snuck up on me there..." Why did that happen? It seemed that whenever Eli was embarrassed the people around him always got taller, bigger... Or maybe it was him feeling so much smaller. The human imagination is a powerful thing.
But that's right. He was smiling now, in the middle of his misery and deprivation. Half because of common courtesy, and half because karma had compensated. He was still stranded in the middle of the night with a broken car and nearly sixteen dollars, a currency that was practically useless in this country, but he wasn't alone anymore. So, step one: find someone else facing the dangers of the night. Check. What was step two? Eli had no idea, but regardless, he saw the light in the male's arrival. Now he wasn't waiting through the night so he could go home, knowing his stubborn behavior saved his dignity. Even if this wasn't by any means a conversation to help his mind escape the suffocating thoughts of home, at least he had found someone to help him with the car troubles. Or so he hoped he could, instead of leaving him stranded to sleep in his car... Because there was no doubt, to save his pride and avoid calling the slightly more car savvy Dan the boy would most definately set up camp in the passenger's seat. Eli almost wanted to ask why he was out at this ungodly hour, but then again, why was he?
As he approached, Eli wondered if he should explain his circumstances a bit. Regardless, he knew he was going to come off like an idiot, but better an idiot who was aware of his moronic tendancies than one oblivious to them, right? "I, um... This probably looks weird, but it's sort of a reoccuring theme in my life." This time he wasn't referring to the depression/lonliness, but to the car. It didn't take a genius to realize that terrible noise couldn't have been uttered by the tongue of a human. Eli took a glance at the car from the corner of his eye. What had he done to it? He had tried to start it, but apparently that had been too much to ask for. "My car... It's kind of prehistoric..." he began, knowing that he was stating the obvious. "And I say that because it sounds like a dinosaur," Eli secretly hoped he had heard some other terrible noises that emitted from some other nearby motor engine, rather than his own. But who was he kidding? Of course he had heard Eli's. Everyone in the general tri-state area heard it. In the middle of the forest small deer and rabbits stopped eating grass and lifted their heads to listen. "I don't think it gets any worse than it is right now." It didn't seem likely, nor did it seem possible. "But then again I haven't tried the windsheild wipers in a while." No matter his mood, Eli was always able to make a joke. Especially when flustered. It was his defense mechanism, used to bounce back and regain composure. But back to the car... The boy wondered what sort of evil was awaiting him next time he tried to clean his windsheild.
Finally a proper, slightly-hesitant conversation's length away (about nine feet away, however long that was in meters), the boy stopped, feeling a bit awkward now more than anything. "I'm Eli," he introduced himself, hoping that maybe this conversation would last longer if his company knew his name. But then again, if one had ventured into the night and made a point to talk to someone, wasn't it a safe assumption that they intended to talk to you for more than a few awkward moments? On the other hand, this was the "big bad city". The man before him could very well be intending to mug him and speed off into the night. But he wouldn't, right? Eli hoped not. It seemed his optimism had returned with his confidence, which had been a gift from his never-fail sense of humor. "You don't happen to have a garage hiding in your dashboard, do you?" [/blockquote][/color]
EVERYTHING LOOKS PERFECT FROM FAR AWAY."Come down now," but we'll stay.[/font]
STATUS; complete.[/size] WORDCOUNT; 1,109.[/size] TAGGED; nicolas[/size] JAMS; transatlanticism -- death cab for cutie.[/size] NOTES; nonesense! quality over quantity. it was written beautifully. i'm excited for these two to interact.[/size][/center] |
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Post by nicholas argall on Sept 1, 2010 3:58:12 GMT
after tonight - - - - - - -
- - - this will be a lifetime ago The kid yelled. Why the hell would the kid yell? It was true that Nick could not retrieve his sense of calm after it had been fractured; and he was going to remain annoyed until the kid went back the way he had come from, whichever direction that may have been. But yelling on top of everything else, and he did make it sound more like a problem than it was, was more than Nick wanted to deal with. He had come out here with the sole intention of being by himself, because he couldn’t do the same thing at his apartment, and that had been stopped short. Forget the fact that he could walk off right now and find somewhere else to brood in solitude; this was the place he had chosen to hang out for the night. Nick was realizing how ridiculous his stream of thought was beginning to seem and he sighed. He didn’t want to acknowledge the kid but he wasn’t that much of an asshole. So, Nick turned his head and slowly sat up, lowering the cigarette in his hand to his side, flicking a bit of ash off the tip onto the ground below him.
And there he was walking closer. Nick gave up on his night at that moment, hoping that this would be over quickly while also knowing that it probably wouldn’t. He wasn’t just being a cynic. The way that the boy approached and started talking, Nick could tell that this wouldn’t be over as simply and easily as he wanted. Well, if Nick didn’t say anything, or only shrugged and turned away, the boy could be discouraged and walk back to his car. Kick the tire and keep walking in the other direction, taking out his retarded flat phone and calling his car insurance company. Though… Nick couldn’t see this kid doing that. His eyes flickered to the beast of a vehicle and he frowned imperceptibly. He didn’t know anything about cars. Nick had never gotten his driver’s license when he lived back in New York and he had no plan to do it now that he was older. There was no point in driving when he could more easily walk everywhere. The distance didn’t bother him. Sure, he was lazy as fuck and liked to smoke more than he liked to eat, but the young man happened to love to run too. It was the only form of exercise that he could take any pleasure in. Group sports made him want to be tortured, and it would have been much the same thing. People… they weren’t his favorite thing. Not in large groups, and barely in small doses.
A life story was just what he needed. Nick listened though, since he had nothing to do. He sat there and looked from the ground to the kid, still not completely sure of what he looked like. It was dark after all and they weren’t exactly at a close distance to one another. He was fine with that. Keep it that way, he implored the guy silently. Oh, so his car was a dinosaur… that explained everything quite well. Nick looked back at the car; it looked perfectly fine to him, but then again he knew little about any vehicles. Cars were like a foreign language to him. And in the dark almost all cars looked the same; same shape, same wheels, all the same basic shit. Nick tapped his fingers against the plastic, continuing to listen, his blue eyes flicking back to the guy.
The little tries at humor were just kind of sad. Nick took another drag from his cigarette, trying not to appear disinterested. He would not have appreciated such behavior if he were the one in this scenario. Then again, he never would have been. Still… Nick sighed again, softly, not obviously. Eli. That was a nice name, was his immediate thought. But Nick made no move to return the introduction. He said finally, breaking his silence, with a shake of his head, “No, I don’t.” What dashboard, was the thought going through his mind. He almost said that but he didn’t.
ooc;; whatever you say. XP and i like these two too. |
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Post by eli daniel ackerman on Sept 2, 2010 0:43:57 GMT
WAVING FROM SUCH GREAT HEIGHTS."Come down now," they'll say.
Eli blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. From the endless well of useless information that he called his mind, the boy pulled out the fact that on average, a person blinks every five seconds. Fifteen seconds of silence? If only his watch had a stopwatch setting, then he could truly find out how long it was taking to get a response from the man before him. A fourth blink caused him to give up on any means of answer, other than those three simple words: “No, I don’t.” It was as if he was a superhero, and this was some sort of trap. The broken car, the mysterious figure appearing in the darkness… They had found his one true weakness, whoever they were: a silence in a conversation. Especially now, especially after his desperation of the night, the lack of speaking was extremely crippling to his confidence. The expression on his face turned from a cow-eyed stare of confusion to a look that was not at all common for Eli: a coy sort of look. The horrid feelings had returned, and that brief burst of self-assurance had burnt out, along with the hope that this would be a useful conversation. Conversation? Could it even be called such a thing?
It wasn’t often that he got such a lack of a response. And when he did, chances were it was from a shy, introverted sort of person. Eli could almost make out the little details of the stranger before him, but despite the ambivalence he held towards the male’s expression, he knew that his company wasn’t shy. It had been the tone of voice that told him that much. Stated curtly were those three words. The meaning behind them simple enough, and the hint taken: a response could be delivered at any time wanted. But it had been brought on unwanted, just like this conversation. Eli felt so suddenly lost, fishing for words in a muddied lake. For one of the few times in his life this self-proclaimed master of all things conversational didn’t know how to respond. Had he ever felt so stupid before? Unlikely. Had he ever been in a situation like this? Probably not. Despite his usual lack of modesty, he wouldn’t declare himself a master of all things conversational without good reason. Had this silence gone on too long? Most definitely. Did he know how to end it? Eli wasn’t even sure he knew how to speak any more. He made a small, insignificant, pathetic note to himself: at least it was too dark for the male opposite him to notice his lack of self-esteem at this moment in time. As if it wasn’t clear by the silence, anyways.
“Um…Al-Alright,” he stammered out, surprisingly unprepared for when the horrible silence ended. The last time Eli had stuttered was when he was five or six years old. After eleven years, there was finally a black spot on his speaking record. “Thanks, anyways.” I guess… Again, the quiet veiled the park, continuing where it left off in feeding Eli’s loneliness. Why was this upsetting him so much? The rational question was drowned with another: Why was he just standing around awkwardly? “I guess I’ll just run on home, then,” an empty smile appeared, though it wouldn’t fight its way out of the façade, nor would it fight its way through the darkness. Disappearing quickly, Eli cleared his throat, and gave it one more shot. “Unless you’ve got a cell phone I could use?” When no one else would say more than three words to him, it was time to call Dan. Because his stepfather had to speak with him, as much as he didn’t want to speak with his stepson, and as much as that feeling was mutual. Congratulations, Eli. He thought to himself sardonically, bitterly celebrating the fact that he had reached the bottom of his ‘People to Turn to in a Crisis’ list. You’ve officially become completely and utterly pathetic… [/blockquote][/color]
EVERYTHING LOOKS PERFECT FROM FAR AWAY."Come down now," but we'll stay.[/font]
STATUS; complete.[/size] WORDCOUNT; 696.[/size] TAGGED; nicolas.[/size] JAMS; don't stop me now -- queen.[/size] NOTES; so self-depricating. tsk tsk. cheer up, silly teenager.[/size][/center] |
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Post by nicholas argall on Sept 2, 2010 1:40:49 GMT
after tonight - - - - - - -
- - - this will be a lifetime ago Oh, the great joys of being forced into an awkward silence. Nick was used to them more than a lot of other people probably, so he didn’t get flustered or embarrassed. Silence was where he liked to stay, in case that wasn’t obvious to… just about everyone. Anybody he had ever known had tried to get him to talk, to hold an actual conversation that wasn’t completely one-sided with just a couple of nods and words on his part. It was a failure of an event each time. Nick didn’t care for conversation, and on the rare occasions that he felt like talking, for him that meant a couple of sentences, not hour-long conversations ranging from one stupid topic to the next with no intellectual value. People talked for the dumbest reasons. He wasn’t implying that he was some great intellectual, he really wasn’t even close, but he had walked by and heard the most vapid talks. The human race was failing, one person at a time. Or maybe it was simply where he was that was the problem. He should go ahead and move to another country this time… a place where English wasn’t the dominant language. That would keep people from trying to talk to him.
He was deep into this thought, since it provided something to fill the silence. The poor kid, poor in a sarcastic sense, was just standing there. He looked like his mother had driven away and left him in the parking lot without a toy. Honestly, it was pretty funny. The dark masked Nick’s small grin. He shouldn’t have found the kid’s discomfort amusing but, fuck it, he did. Bringing the cigarette in his hand back to his mouth, Nick looked away from the guy. His hazy silhouette was all that was visible in the night. There should have been a street lamp somewhere close by. This was a good neighborhood, wasn’t it? He looked around to clarify. Nope, no light. The houses around were dark too, save a light here and there. The beast of a car hadn’t pulled any unwary citizens from their residences. Just Nick’s luck that he got caught up in it. Had he stayed in his apartment, he could have been smoking the night away, watching infomercials on his old television, or, his personal favorite, late night sex shows run by little old women. Come on, where else was he going to see a little grandmother figure brandishing a dildo?
The defeatist tone in the kid’s voice made Nick hopeful. That was easy enough. He felt like an asshole for… being an asshole. It made sense. As far as he could see, Eli was stuck there with no means of transportation. It sucked, but there was nothing that nick could do about it. Until the kid asked if he had a phone. Nick’s dark eyebrows perked up at that. He had a phone. It was one of the only items he kept on him at all times. At least once a day somebody called and asked for a price or where he lived to pick up something to smoke. No phone, no business. That was how it went. There must have been other dealers in the area, but Nick offered a cleaner and more familiar situation. He wasn’t a dumbass on a street corner wearing a big coat to conceal illegal substances.
He debated silently and, with a sigh, slid off of the tunnel onto the ground. “You don’t have your own phone?” He asked, partially in annoyance. He didn’t like the idea of handing out his phone to a stranger. Why the hell didn’t he have his own phone to begin with? That was blasphemous for a teenager. Nick took the last drag from his cigarette and discarded the stub, crushing it under his shoe. Walking up to the kid, Nick took his phone out of his back pocket. He checked it for messages or missed calls and, finding none, begrudgingly handed it over, holding it out in the foot of distance that separated his body from Eli’s. Strange though, Nick now noted, that he didn’t seem all too thrilled about having to call someone for a ride. Family problems was his immediate guess. He’d been there, done that. He knew what it was like to want to be anywhere but home.
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Post by eli daniel ackerman on Sept 3, 2010 0:54:58 GMT
WAVING FROM SUCH GREAT HEIGHTS."Come down now," they'll say.
The response received was much like the first: short, not-so-sweet, but very to the point. There were few words used, but yet, there was so much that could be taken from the message. “I really don’t like the idea of doing this,” was one hidden meaning. “I’m lending you my phone so you’ll leave me alone,” was another. The annoyance stung worse than the silence, but Eli had expected such a response. He understood the apprehension in handing over something so potentially personal like a mobile, especially to a total stranger at ridiculous o’clock. Eli had miniature paranoia moments when some of his closest friends scrolled through his text messages. Though most of his everyday text messages were harmless, there were the few from flirty girls and prodding family members that, as the boy remembered so distinctly, had caused merciless teasing. And so, upon being handed the stranger’s phone, Eli made a point not to look at anything other than the keypad as he dialed. Not the background, certainly none of the contacts, not whatever speed dials were produced during the dialing, and never would he dream of sifting through the text messages. It was simply his home number, and while hesitant to press ‘send’, he wasted no time in doing so. It was rude enough to even request such a thing; he wouldn’t waste any more of this male’s time than necessary.
“Yeah, I just… It died on me.” Like a terrible liar (despite the truth in his words), he was too ashamed to meet eye contact. Finding comfort in the ground, suddenly, Eli chose to study it immensely while the call proceeded through the system. There was little light to see what covered the earth’s floor in this particular park, but regardless, it was better to try and squint through the darkness than face this mysterious – and somehow intimidating – stranger. Through the earpiece, he heard a ringing. Somewhere, in an oversized house meant for more people than three, five phones were sounding. Everyone still there had probably been sleeping. He was starting to regret this call. The dog was probably anxious, now, hating the sound of an incoming call. And that had probably gotten Dan upset, hating the energized dog more than he hated being woken up. Twice, it rang, and Eli pictured his stepfather fuming behind the wheel of a car, his mother in the passenger side as they worriedly passed all parts of town. The third ring sounded, and he almost hung up. Even if the house’s inhabitants were stumbling through the lightless hallway, they would have reached one of the many conveniently placed phones by now. It rang a fourth time, the tone cut short as the call connected. On the other end, a profane string of words. It seemed his stepfather was a bit psychic, knowing that Eli would be the one calling. “Fuck, Eli, you better have one hell of an excuse. Do you have any idea what fucking time it is?” The boy bit his lip, pausing for a moment and contemplating his options before quickly acting. He pulled the phone from his ear and hit the ‘End Call’ button. Walking seemed to be turning into better and better solution to end this devastating night.
“Didn’t pick up,” he lied, finding courage in his sudden will to hide his family’s trouble dealing with one another. “Not too far to walk,” he added, the same empty smile as before taking shape. Had it been another person, more responsive, perhaps, he may have just shaken the situation off with a hit-or-miss (probably miss) joke about how his family didn’t really like talking on the phone. Being equally as careful as before to not accidentally intrude on the personal space that was a cell phone, the boy handed the device back to its owner. Now standing a shorter distance apart, Eli could size up his company for the first time. He appeared older, which perhaps was the reason he found Eli’s presence at the park annoying – stupid kids ruining the peace and quiet and all. Though his appearance gave nothing else away, he was still equally as mysterious as he was when the boy had first seen him a long distance away. It had been the cold personality (if one could really call it a personality) that had made Eli self-conscious and intimidated, not the appearance. And although the dark still impaired his vision, he was sure that statement stood true. “Thanks,” was his final say in the matter as the phone passed persons once again. He could lock the car, hope no idiot smashed into it during the night, and that it didn’t get towed to god knows where. But, disregarding the fact that it was a nice part of town, it was his own safety that he was worried about. Part of him knew he would surely make it home without trouble, for this town had never even heard of trouble. But there was another part of him that was suddenly conscious of all the shadows in the area, conscious of dark alleyways and open shades from whence someone could be watching. It was the big city that he called home that had awakened the demon of skepticism, but Eli had never felt small enough to acknowledge it. [/blockquote][/color]
EVERYTHING LOOKS PERFECT FROM FAR AWAY."Come down now," but we'll stay.[/font]
STATUS; complete.[/size] WORDCOUNT; 907.[/size] TAGGED; nicolas.[/size] JAMS; i'll believe in anything -- wolf parade.[/size] NOTES; got to this faster than i thought. i just kicked my homework's butt. quinn power![/size][/center] |
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Post by nicholas argall on Sept 3, 2010 3:53:01 GMT
after tonight - - - - - - -
- - - this will be a lifetime ago There was a moment of hesitation that Nick noted after he handed over his phone. It felt like he was giving away a child, or how he guessed that feeling would have been. He had no kids and there was no one in his life, not family or friends, who he would say that he loved in the same sense of the word. Oh, how sad that he was equating the existence of a few pieces of plastic and metal stuck together to that of a human person. He had become incredibly solitary and apparently a bit wrong in the head over the last couple of years. Still, though, as ludicrous as that thought was, it didn’t alter the fact that it was true. Nick stared at his phone in someone else’s hand and bit his lip ever so slightly, watchful for the tiniest of bad moves with it. He doubted that he would have done anything should the kid have dropped it on the ground or something similar. Nick had actually done that more than once himself, when he was less than lucid, high on this or that. It was a sturdy thing. That was one of the reasons he liked it so much. Plus, it was a lifeline to the outside world. Even if his contacts were clients, people he didn’t give a shit about save for the cash they gave him. It was his way of knowing that he had some relevance in the world. It was more than a lot of people had going for them.
Nick was a skilled liar and he spotted the falsity quickly when the kid mumbled out his reply. Nick nodded once and took a step back to give the kid a bit of privacy. With nothing else to do for the minute or two this would take, Nick reached into his pocket and took out his pack of cigarettes. It was have full, enough for the night depending on how long he was up. The better stuff was at his apartment; he could always delve into that stash if the mood struck. Lighting the tip, Nick glanced with one raised eyebrow at Eli, who was not speaking and appeared to be weighing the options of who was going to answer his call. Nick still had his money on the family thing. Perhaps he was drawing from personal experience but it wasn’t an unlikely scenario. How many marriages ended in divorce these days? How many kids were caught in the middle of that shitstorm? Hundreds of thousands of children every day had their hopes and dreams of perfect marriages squashed by their parents and their mindfucking relationships. Oh, the joys of life.
Maybe he was being suspicious or was still thriving off of his annoyance but Nick would have sworn that he heard another lie. He dismissed that idea as swiftly as possible. He shouldn’t have been standing there trying to meddle his way into a stranger’s life. He had his own life to deal with and that was enough for him. Nick took his phone back happily and placed it back in his pocket, switching his cigarette between one hand and the other. A short quiet sigh escaped into the silent night and Nick could feel his annoyance melting, knowing that he would have the premises to himself once more. But it was more than that. He didn’t want to admit it but he felt bad for the kid and his car troubles and his horrible lying. And Eli just looked like a fucking helpless puppy. Nick closed his eyes for a second in preparation for what he was about to do. “Wait, wait,” he mumbled, the hand holding his cigarette pressed to his forehead, knuckles against his skin. He opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows, pausing before continuing, “How far is it?” He nodded to the car, the way that it had come from. Walking four or five miles at this hour was stupid. A lot of the streets, like the one they were on, had no street lamps. The dark could be jarring.
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Post by eli daniel ackerman on Sept 4, 2010 15:31:49 GMT
WAVING FROM SUCH GREAT HEIGHTS."Come down now," they'll say.
He had prepared himself for this the second he hung up the phone: the instance where he would turn away (in lonesome), leave his car (all alone), and walk home (by himself). He would forget the almost-kind stranger, who he simply couldn’t figure out (something that bothered Eli, as he prided himself on an ability to read others’ personalities somewhat well), and stalk off into the night. He would return home and meet the wrath of his stepfather, fuming by the phone call that had awoken him from his anything-but-beauty sleep. All that was left was to swivel on his heel and leave. He had said thank you, been polite to the male before him, offered fake smiles (in attempt to offer real ones), and seemingly done what he could to get a response. It just wasn’t his night. The car now seemed like a metaphor for Eli’s emotions more than anything: defeated, broken down, and did I mention alone? But he was prepared. He was ready for his walk home, his scolding, and he was definitely ready for the time in his perhaps far-off future where he could finally go to sleep, let his subconscious deal with all his problems. And, unlike the rest of his actions this evening, he wasn’t hesitant to turn away from the conversation and wander off a small ways. He even offered another fake smile before he did so.
At first, Eli assumed the words were figments of his imagination, perhaps something that he wanted to hear opposed to what he actually heard. The stranger he had just nearly spoken to for the past five minutes, the one who had gotten so obviously annoyed with the boy, was now telling him to stop where he stood? He didn’t quite believe it, but despite that, Eli’s steps faltered a bit, slowing as he threw a glance over his shoulder. Being so prepared for his night of misery, he contemplated the idea that the male was speaking to himself? It was truly a night of surprises, and not of one seventeen year old losing his mind to hallucinations. Another sentence followed, words glued together with a tone of – it couldn’t be – sincerity? The subtexts of annoyance and dislike had been replaced, perhaps briefly, with genuine care for something? Immediately visions of this mysterious man laughing in his face and leaving after the hopeful Eli answered the question flashed through his mind. But no, that would be cruel. He had heard a total of fifteen words from the male, but Eli highly doubted that such an act would play out here. And so, he turned back and practiced a very teenager action: he shrugged.
“I don’t know exactly,” he explained, his accent (or lack thereof) making his country of origin obvious. The metric system had always confused him, but up until two months ago he hadn’t ever needed to use it. Recently he had been studying it a bit more closely, learning the proportions compared to miles and feet. For his running purposes, of course. His daily ten-mile run meant nothing to the general population, nor did it to Eli as he tried to measure on this system. His company, however, had an accent similar to his own. Perhaps he understood miles? Regardless, the boy dusted off his mental calculator. “It’s a little under three miles,” he estimated, giving or taking a fraction of a mile. Three miles across town? What a small place it was. “So that means it’s close to…” If one mile was one point six kilometers then his answer was… The numbers flew by in his mind. Eli didn’t like math, per say, but he had proven himself fairly capable at accomplishing it. After a moment’s pause, his answer (perhaps wrong answer) had arrived. “Four and a half kilometers?” That sounded right. “It’s not that far,” he assured, halfway to himself. [/blockquote][/color]
EVERYTHING LOOKS PERFECT FROM FAR AWAY."Come down now," but we'll stay.[/font]
STATUS; complete.[/size] WORDCOUNT; 648.[/size] TAGGED; nicolas.[/size] JAMS; train song -- ben gibbard & feist.[/size] NOTES; ack. horrible postage. i blame my rushed-ness ><'[/size][/center] |
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Post by nicholas argall on Sept 4, 2010 19:45:31 GMT
after tonight - - - - - - -
- - - this will be a lifetime ago Nick would not have been overly happy about being helped out in the middle of the night by a stranger. Was it the middle of the night yet? He wasn’t sure what time he had left his place, maybe an hour or two at the most. He took to wandering the streets later when there were fewer people out. He knew the area better because of it; learning the streets and roads at night was quiet and calming and during the day he could get to where he was going quicker. Though, Nick went out more at night than he did during the day. He would rather sleep in really late, and had been that way since he was twelve or thirteen. It made going to school a pain in the ass but that was how he was and Nick didn’t ask people for help or for a shoulder to cry on. That was why he would have perhaps appreciated somebody trying to help out if, say, his car had broken down, but he wouldn’t have taken the helping hand. Nick would have shrugged or shaken his head, abrasive as usual, and the help would wander off thinking that he was an asshole. He didn’t mind the labeling. Seriously, if he did, Nick would have been a depressed kid all the time. More often, he let it roll off of him. People were mostly assholes anyway; he didn’t want them around.
So why hadn’t he let Eli walk away? Because, though it was against popular opinion, Nick wasn’t a complete douchebag. He knew that people took to seeing him that way because he was quiet and therefor seemed to think that he was above everybody. It wasn’t the case; Nick didn’t think he was better than anybody really. He was nice enough but not a lot of people got to see that about him. A lot of instances had occurred when Nick had contemplated showing people that he could be a good person, that he could speak more than five words sequentially. Of course, this was never in front of people he really knew, namely his family, and even more specifically his parents. Nick didn’t know why exactly he was so hostile towards the people who were central in his life, or his history anyway; they had their reasons for acting the way they did, but they could also be so inconsiderate. Saying that he was a product of his environment though was such a cop out. Being rich and being raised with everything he wanted was hardly a detriment to his upbringing. At least he wasn’t as spoiled as his parents; they might as well have been toddlers themselves.
He had noticed that the kid didn’t have the typical accent for this place when he first started talking about how his car had stopped working. Nick was a bit intrigued by that but he was more intent on his annoyance than his interest so he overlooked it. Now, with the dispute of the metric system versus the system used back home, Nick was finding a certain familiarity in this person. Only a small amount, though. Nick wasn’t going to pour his interest and affection into a stranger’s presence. It just wasn’t going to happen. Ever. The layer of ash at the end of his cigarette fell to the pavement as he flicked it between his fingers before bringing it back to his mouth. “More like five,” Nick said, not meaning to sound like he was correcting a mistake. He shrugged casually, exhaling smoke from between his lips, watching it flow up until the dark overtook it. Nick walked closer to the car that the kid had driven to the point of apparent exhaustion, asking with genuine curiosity after another moment of silence, “Were you going anywhere in particular?” He glanced back at Eli for a fraction of a second.
“If you’re walking,” he said, looking down the road, the shadows that seemed to get larger and more dominant the longer they were stared at. “You can cut across behind houses and backyards. It wouldn’t take as long.” His helpful words for the night, right there. True, if he got caught there could be some issues but Nick had not yet been caught trespassing.
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