Post by samson everett ryder on Sept 7, 2010 23:00:28 GMT
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SAMSON EVERETT RYDER,,
sam. nineteen. local. straight. joe brooks.
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"KAYLA, DEAR, WE'RE GOING TO NEED THE MOP OUT AGAIN.
So I'm a bit of a klutz. I don't mean to be, but unfortunately I wasn't gifted with the grace of the gods, or even that of a pig. You can almost guarantee that I will fall over my own feet at least once a day, and even I pray that I won't be holding something valuable at the time of my unfortunate but definite collision with the floor. I just generally seem to be a bit cack-handed; in science, I was forever dropping vials and knocking my work over, whilst in soccer in my first year... Actually, you don't want to know what happened then. It's most often because I haven't really concentrating on what I'm doing. If I focus my mind on something, usually something I enjoy such as soccer or cooking, or even music, then I can just about manage to be careful. This isn't to say I won't still trip over my feet, knock the salt shaker off the side of the work surface or anything like that – I will – but it won't happen as frequently as it would have done in one of my chemistry lessons. The difference is that I actually care about these things, as opposed to being accepting of the fact that I'm probably going to fail a lesson and so not bothering to put the effort in.
SAMMY, CAN YOU AT LEAST KEEP YOUR MESS ON YOUR SIDE OF THE ROOM?
Anyone who has ever had to live with with me knows one very important fact; I'm a bloody slob, and nothing anyone can say will ever change that fact. Whether it's simply me being too lazy to put things away or liking the clutter, no one is really sure. The one thing you can guarantee, however, is that it will not be clean. I'm not unhygienic, just messy, leaving my papers scattered across the breakfast table and my music equipment scattered around the kitchen. When things are tidied up around me, however, I begin to panic. I remember where I left something when things are in a mess – how, no one's quite sure. Is it something to do with remembering what was around the item? But when things are tidy, there are several places they can be hidden and I can't find most things without the aid of others. I hate it when people tidy up after me, especially without telling me first, and if you put away all my things, there'll be hell to pay. I do appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the act, but just don't mess with what little amount of a system I currently have going. It's all I've got to keep myself on top of things. My mess is often the bane of other people's lives, such that they find it hard to maneuver around. Thanks to my messiness, I'm also an expert at stacking things precariously – don't touch one of my supposedly tidy towers, else it may well just fall on top of you.
GERROFF HIM, YOU SNAKE! WHAT'S HE EVER DONE TO YOU?
So, I /try to be/ incredibly loyal to what I believe in and the people I cares about, such that I would do anything for them, if they asked and such things were within my morals. While I'm not one to make snap judgments about people, once an opinion is formed, it does tend to stick and you'll find yourself hard pressed to change my mind on it. I'm a bit stubborn that way. Though, I would fight someone if I needed to, anyone, if my loved ones were in danger, but I won't immediately put myself or those I care about in the line of fire if I think I can avoid it. I'm not suicidal or stupid, and know that battle isn't the best answer. No, if I can keep out of a fight, then I'll go along that road first; I'm often the first to suggest merely talking, but accepts the idea of having to deal another way. I'd just rather not. Still, if I had to, I'd give up everything for my friends and family. I can be brave when I have to be, but in everyday life, I'm often perceived as somewhat timid, if at least friendly. I can get angry, but my temper is a slow burning one, flaring up only after my patience has been worn to the barest thread. An angry Scott is quite the sight.
PLEASE, JUST ONE MORE MOUTHFUL? THEN YOU CAN HAVE THE CHOCOLATE. OH, OH BUGGER... FINE.
Part of the reason I sometimes considered timid is that I don't push myself in the limelight. To those whom are new to me, I find it hard to speak up and often worry about offending them. Once I get to know someone, however, it's a bit hard to get me to keep my opinions to myself. I'm just initially very shy and don't want to scare people off because they don't like my thoughts on a matter. I'm firm in my belief that people can be friends and have differing opinions, so I tend to try and keep things as light as possible.
WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE!
I love a good laugh, but unfortunately my sense of humour leaves much to be desired. You know those cheesy jokes you get in Christmas crackers? Yeah, I think they're a real riot and will try to tell you all the classic ones that have been told to death already. Two liner jokes are a firm favorite and I don't actually search out new material from the worst possible sources; ancient joke books. Beware, when I've ventured into the book stores for the day, I will unleash a stream of awful and ancient jokes that should have been buried a long time ago. What makes it worse is that I'm not very good at telling jokes anyway; I start giggling half way through if I find it particularly entertaining, never holds the silence for long enough and often misses the point of my own jokes. My laugh can be a little bit grating on the nerves too, anyway. At least I can take a joke back– I'm a good sport and won't be offended if you do have a laugh about when I fell over last or a funny time in school. It was a hilarious day and I agree. I just like to smile and laugh; any excuse and I'm there.."
So I'm a bit of a klutz. I don't mean to be, but unfortunately I wasn't gifted with the grace of the gods, or even that of a pig. You can almost guarantee that I will fall over my own feet at least once a day, and even I pray that I won't be holding something valuable at the time of my unfortunate but definite collision with the floor. I just generally seem to be a bit cack-handed; in science, I was forever dropping vials and knocking my work over, whilst in soccer in my first year... Actually, you don't want to know what happened then. It's most often because I haven't really concentrating on what I'm doing. If I focus my mind on something, usually something I enjoy such as soccer or cooking, or even music, then I can just about manage to be careful. This isn't to say I won't still trip over my feet, knock the salt shaker off the side of the work surface or anything like that – I will – but it won't happen as frequently as it would have done in one of my chemistry lessons. The difference is that I actually care about these things, as opposed to being accepting of the fact that I'm probably going to fail a lesson and so not bothering to put the effort in.
SAMMY, CAN YOU AT LEAST KEEP YOUR MESS ON YOUR SIDE OF THE ROOM?
Anyone who has ever had to live with with me knows one very important fact; I'm a bloody slob, and nothing anyone can say will ever change that fact. Whether it's simply me being too lazy to put things away or liking the clutter, no one is really sure. The one thing you can guarantee, however, is that it will not be clean. I'm not unhygienic, just messy, leaving my papers scattered across the breakfast table and my music equipment scattered around the kitchen. When things are tidied up around me, however, I begin to panic. I remember where I left something when things are in a mess – how, no one's quite sure. Is it something to do with remembering what was around the item? But when things are tidy, there are several places they can be hidden and I can't find most things without the aid of others. I hate it when people tidy up after me, especially without telling me first, and if you put away all my things, there'll be hell to pay. I do appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the act, but just don't mess with what little amount of a system I currently have going. It's all I've got to keep myself on top of things. My mess is often the bane of other people's lives, such that they find it hard to maneuver around. Thanks to my messiness, I'm also an expert at stacking things precariously – don't touch one of my supposedly tidy towers, else it may well just fall on top of you.
GERROFF HIM, YOU SNAKE! WHAT'S HE EVER DONE TO YOU?
So, I /try to be/ incredibly loyal to what I believe in and the people I cares about, such that I would do anything for them, if they asked and such things were within my morals. While I'm not one to make snap judgments about people, once an opinion is formed, it does tend to stick and you'll find yourself hard pressed to change my mind on it. I'm a bit stubborn that way. Though, I would fight someone if I needed to, anyone, if my loved ones were in danger, but I won't immediately put myself or those I care about in the line of fire if I think I can avoid it. I'm not suicidal or stupid, and know that battle isn't the best answer. No, if I can keep out of a fight, then I'll go along that road first; I'm often the first to suggest merely talking, but accepts the idea of having to deal another way. I'd just rather not. Still, if I had to, I'd give up everything for my friends and family. I can be brave when I have to be, but in everyday life, I'm often perceived as somewhat timid, if at least friendly. I can get angry, but my temper is a slow burning one, flaring up only after my patience has been worn to the barest thread. An angry Scott is quite the sight.
PLEASE, JUST ONE MORE MOUTHFUL? THEN YOU CAN HAVE THE CHOCOLATE. OH, OH BUGGER... FINE.
Part of the reason I sometimes considered timid is that I don't push myself in the limelight. To those whom are new to me, I find it hard to speak up and often worry about offending them. Once I get to know someone, however, it's a bit hard to get me to keep my opinions to myself. I'm just initially very shy and don't want to scare people off because they don't like my thoughts on a matter. I'm firm in my belief that people can be friends and have differing opinions, so I tend to try and keep things as light as possible.
WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE!
I love a good laugh, but unfortunately my sense of humour leaves much to be desired. You know those cheesy jokes you get in Christmas crackers? Yeah, I think they're a real riot and will try to tell you all the classic ones that have been told to death already. Two liner jokes are a firm favorite and I don't actually search out new material from the worst possible sources; ancient joke books. Beware, when I've ventured into the book stores for the day, I will unleash a stream of awful and ancient jokes that should have been buried a long time ago. What makes it worse is that I'm not very good at telling jokes anyway; I start giggling half way through if I find it particularly entertaining, never holds the silence for long enough and often misses the point of my own jokes. My laugh can be a little bit grating on the nerves too, anyway. At least I can take a joke back– I'm a good sport and won't be offended if you do have a laugh about when I fell over last or a funny time in school. It was a hilarious day and I agree. I just like to smile and laugh; any excuse and I'm there.."
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"My family is pretty normal but shaping up to be of course different.. Believe it or not I'm on semi-good-terms with my parents, they're real protective of me and I think they worry more about me than Lillian or Tristan. It bothers me how they're on my case all the time but I know it's all outta love. With my sister- though- I'm pretty protective of her. I love my little sister and I want nothing but the best for her.. I don't like to see her hurt, you know? Tristan is older than me by a year, he's protective when he needs to be but most the time we don't talk. he's real distant and our conversations usually go as followed: "how school?" "good.." "no one giving you problems?" "no." "good, I'll beat some heads in if you need me too." "uhm, thanks?". On another note I have a few pets, I picked up a stray cat named Marvin when he was kitten. I use to have two goldfish until Marvin ate them, I learned my lesson there, haha. "
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"Well actually, I was born in England, nineteen years ago on May 18th. Wasn't born in a hospital though, there was no time to get mum to the hospital. Instead I was born at my Aunt Emilie's house- she's the reason for my most recent tattoo, it's the initials "ER" standing for Emilie Reynolds inside interlinking hearts on my right wrist- she recently died in a horrible car crash. Anyways, I was born at my aunt's house in the guest bed room, weird ya? To understand why I moved from London to Cornwall you'll have to see my history, it's.. a long story I think. I'm here for a better life hopefully.."
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"I lived in Harrow, London, England with my family until I was like 3, then I lived in California up until a few months ago. Nothing much has happened in my life until about middle school- when I met Cassidy. For five years we were the best of friends and I always had this large ass crush on her for as long as I've known her. When we went in to high school I finally got the nerves to ask her out. We promised each other no matter what happened we'd still be best friends in the end. I was in love with her and everything she said or did. I fell head over heels for her."
November 27th, 2007
The familiar sound of the band Goo Goo Dolls' song black balloon sang from the phone joyously vibrating on the side table by his bed. Half dressed under the comforters and allowing a long groan come from his lips as he stuck one long, pale arm out in to the cold to grab the annoying phone to shut it up. Under the comfort of the blanket he looked at the phone's screen with squinting eyes, one new message read across the screen.. from Cassidy. Cas was his girlfriend, they had been together for three years now. With a goofy grin across his sleepy face he opened his phone and opened the message. He missed his Cassidy, she had left for three months to live with her cousins in Arizona, states over. For weeks he had been trying to have a real conversation with the girl but got hardly anything from her and every time he'd ask she'd dismiss, says she's fine and she has to go now.
shes yours
Sammy was confused, no it wasn't because he had just woken up and was still half asleep. What did she mean "shes yours"? Who's his? By now the brown eyed boy was rubbing his eyes, was he reading something else? What was going on? The light from the cell phone illuminated the darkness under the blanket. Immediately he began a message back to her, there was quite possibly twenty different questions he had sent her.
January 7th, 2007--- twitter update
No answer from Cassidy, I still have no idea what she was talking about.. I've been thinking the worst. Tried to contact her- she was only suppose to be staying with her cousins for four months. It's been five months- two since the text message."
February 16th, 2007--- facebook status
Worried about Cas, anyone heard from her? Please? Anyone?D':
June 21st, 2008--- voicemail
"SAM! Sh!t, I hate your freaking voicemail- makes me think you answered the phone.." *cough that's the point stupid* "it's your Aunt Clara- I just heard from Cassidy's brother- sweetie she's.. awh, sh!t!- Sammy she's- the car swerved and you see.. freaking semi-trucks, gawd damn! I've always hated those things! There was a baby, did you know Cassidy had a baby?! Not the point right now- Sammy she's gone. Call me back, pumpkin.. please.. I love you."
August 15th, 2007--- voicemail
"It's almost been two months, baby. It's Aunt Clara, Sammy, please- call me back. I know this is a tough time, sweetie, I know. We all loved her and we all miss her- but please, at least give me a sign to make sure your at least getting these messages..I love you, Sam, just remember I'm here for you. You have my number, take care."
June 17th, 2008 --- voicemail
"Samson Everett Ryder, this is ridiculous! You could at least have some courtesy and call your worried ass aunt at least once! It's almost been a year, I haven't heard from you and for all I know you could be dea-sh!t, Sammy, pick up! Darn it, Sam, your just like your uncle! You never want to talk about nothin, you never answer your damn phone, we're all worried sick about you and you don't give a rats ass! That's fine- fine, don't come calling me "oh Aunt Clara wah wah wah!", I am through! *long pause* okay, I didn't mean that.. just at least give me a sign your alright.. I'm just worried is all.. take care, and happy birthday."
August 13th, 2008 --- text message from freddie harris
hey, we need to talk. meet you at sunrise cafe in ten. it's about cas.
August 14th, 2008 --- myspace blog entry
spent my whole day thinking about what freddie said. we met at the cafe and he told me all he knew, everything about the final months with cas.. the months i spent worried out my wits end. about fucking time someone told me what had happened. but i can't be mad at him.
she didn't know what to do- she was pregnant and..- which was why she had been 'visiting' her cousins'. she needed them and she didn't know how i'd handle it. i.. i would have been a fucking fantastic father! i wouldn't have left her if she had just.. just told me.
she was driving home in june, it was pouring down rain and even the windshield wipers weren't helping. she swerved in to the other lane in to oncoming traffic. her little slug-bug collided with a semi-truck..the our baby was in the backseat.<br>
i've been having nightmares every since i was told by aunt clara.. i don't know how long it's been since i've had a decent nights sleep. im worn to the bone and it's effecting school and work now.. i don't know what to do..
Haunted eyes shifted minutely beneath restless lids. Dam awoke with a start, a white-knuckled hand gripping at his chest as if it were on fire. He reassured himself that it had only been a nightmare and hunkered forward with a breath of relief, face in his hands. He wasn't sure when he'd begun having nightmares exactly but they'd becoming increasingly terrifying as of late, and it left him feeling as if his life was slowly spiraling out of-control. A moment more, a breath, and he'd finally managed to catch his bearings long enough to roll out of bed and amble over to his closet. He wondered, as he sifted through t-shirts and cardigans, if he should perhaps speak to somebody about his nightmares. He paused at that thought, and then decidedly shook his head to himself. No one would understand, he thought, forgoing then the effort to pick out decent school attire as he threw on a raggedy, old plaid button-up and khakis. A quick visit to the bathroom, and then he collected his weighty book-bag and bounded downstairs to greet his aunt for breakfast- he was currently living with her- she was a slender woman with laughing eyes and bouncing blond hair, quite an attractive woman in the eyes of most, Sam supposed, but to him, she was simply 'Aunt Clara'. She smelt of ginger and butter as she caught him by the collar and pulled him in to kiss his cheek. Although how he'd been able to deduce the distinct smells from those of waffles and hot chocolate wafting through the kitchen was beyond sam. He greeted her as genuinely as possible and waved off the idea of a proper breakfast, feeling sickly and agitated over his recent ordeal. With a short farewell, Sam made a quick exit. his aunt called after him, her voice characteristically cheerful and benign, reminding him to make good choices at school today. With a defeated sigh and roll of his eyes, Sammy obliged before proceeding across the nicely shaven yard toward school. School, he thought as he made his way, another day without her.
"I hated school. I use to be top of my class, smart-ass kid who always got things done- never relied on anyone to do the work because they wouldn't. I was an independent kid, but social. after her death things changed for the worst. I hated it. school couldn't keep me from thinking about her, it certainly made it harder. My grades dropped, I was still independent but not social. I spent class periods staring at boards, listening to the loud whispers behind me day after day. "He killed Cassidy? No way- that's not a Sam thing to do- he's a good guy!" "Well obviously not if he killed her!" "Why would he kill her, weren't they like in love?" "Maybe it was a cover up?" "For what?" "How much he couldn't stand her? Jack said she was quite the slut back when.." "A slut? That's not Cassidy- we use to be best friends back in elm and I'm damn sure she wouldn't do such a thing-" "Just what Jack said-" "Jack is-"
"A cocky, arrogant, no good douche bag!" You see, I couldn't keep my cool whenever I heard someone talk about her and by this time I was turned around, pissed. "Shut your freaking traps about her- no she was not a slut, she was most sensitive, courageous, beautiful and intelligent girl I had ever and will ever meet in my life. I loved her with all my heart and I did not kill her!" I raged out, I couldn't control it, you know? On to my feet I took the hefty book-bag in to hand and bounded out. Screw them, I thought, what a waste of air. "
"Senior year wasprobably the worst. Fourth year there, for the first without Cassidy. I had gone three years with the girl of my dreams and suddenly she wasn't there. I was screaming every which way trying to get out, I was fed up, sick of this, sick of hearing about her but never getting to see her again. I was done with the naive kids there, the lies and the whispers, the looks they gave, the pats on the back they gave- they didn't give a sh!t about me before why should they now? I tried. Tried to wait until the end of the year. I waited until the end of senior year.. No note, no warning. I was gone. I packed up everything that mattered in my room and left without a word to my family. Left all the cash I had stored in my room in an envelope with my mom and left with just the money on my credit card. I didn't even know where I was going- just as long as I was gone from there."
November 27th, 2007
The familiar sound of the band Goo Goo Dolls' song black balloon sang from the phone joyously vibrating on the side table by his bed. Half dressed under the comforters and allowing a long groan come from his lips as he stuck one long, pale arm out in to the cold to grab the annoying phone to shut it up. Under the comfort of the blanket he looked at the phone's screen with squinting eyes, one new message read across the screen.. from Cassidy. Cas was his girlfriend, they had been together for three years now. With a goofy grin across his sleepy face he opened his phone and opened the message. He missed his Cassidy, she had left for three months to live with her cousins in Arizona, states over. For weeks he had been trying to have a real conversation with the girl but got hardly anything from her and every time he'd ask she'd dismiss, says she's fine and she has to go now.
shes yours
Sammy was confused, no it wasn't because he had just woken up and was still half asleep. What did she mean "shes yours"? Who's his? By now the brown eyed boy was rubbing his eyes, was he reading something else? What was going on? The light from the cell phone illuminated the darkness under the blanket. Immediately he began a message back to her, there was quite possibly twenty different questions he had sent her.
January 7th, 2007--- twitter update
No answer from Cassidy, I still have no idea what she was talking about.. I've been thinking the worst. Tried to contact her- she was only suppose to be staying with her cousins for four months. It's been five months- two since the text message."
February 16th, 2007--- facebook status
Worried about Cas, anyone heard from her? Please? Anyone?D':
June 21st, 2008--- voicemail
"SAM! Sh!t, I hate your freaking voicemail- makes me think you answered the phone.." *cough that's the point stupid* "it's your Aunt Clara- I just heard from Cassidy's brother- sweetie she's.. awh, sh!t!- Sammy she's- the car swerved and you see.. freaking semi-trucks, gawd damn! I've always hated those things! There was a baby, did you know Cassidy had a baby?! Not the point right now- Sammy she's gone. Call me back, pumpkin.. please.. I love you."
August 15th, 2007--- voicemail
"It's almost been two months, baby. It's Aunt Clara, Sammy, please- call me back. I know this is a tough time, sweetie, I know. We all loved her and we all miss her- but please, at least give me a sign to make sure your at least getting these messages..I love you, Sam, just remember I'm here for you. You have my number, take care."
June 17th, 2008 --- voicemail
"Samson Everett Ryder, this is ridiculous! You could at least have some courtesy and call your worried ass aunt at least once! It's almost been a year, I haven't heard from you and for all I know you could be dea-sh!t, Sammy, pick up! Darn it, Sam, your just like your uncle! You never want to talk about nothin, you never answer your damn phone, we're all worried sick about you and you don't give a rats ass! That's fine- fine, don't come calling me "oh Aunt Clara wah wah wah!", I am through! *long pause* okay, I didn't mean that.. just at least give me a sign your alright.. I'm just worried is all.. take care, and happy birthday."
August 13th, 2008 --- text message from freddie harris
hey, we need to talk. meet you at sunrise cafe in ten. it's about cas.
August 14th, 2008 --- myspace blog entry
spent my whole day thinking about what freddie said. we met at the cafe and he told me all he knew, everything about the final months with cas.. the months i spent worried out my wits end. about fucking time someone told me what had happened. but i can't be mad at him.
she didn't know what to do- she was pregnant and..- which was why she had been 'visiting' her cousins'. she needed them and she didn't know how i'd handle it. i.. i would have been a fucking fantastic father! i wouldn't have left her if she had just.. just told me.
she was driving home in june, it was pouring down rain and even the windshield wipers weren't helping. she swerved in to the other lane in to oncoming traffic. her little slug-bug collided with a semi-truck..
i've been having nightmares every since i was told by aunt clara.. i don't know how long it's been since i've had a decent nights sleep. im worn to the bone and it's effecting school and work now.. i don't know what to do..
Haunted eyes shifted minutely beneath restless lids. Dam awoke with a start, a white-knuckled hand gripping at his chest as if it were on fire. He reassured himself that it had only been a nightmare and hunkered forward with a breath of relief, face in his hands. He wasn't sure when he'd begun having nightmares exactly but they'd becoming increasingly terrifying as of late, and it left him feeling as if his life was slowly spiraling out of-control. A moment more, a breath, and he'd finally managed to catch his bearings long enough to roll out of bed and amble over to his closet. He wondered, as he sifted through t-shirts and cardigans, if he should perhaps speak to somebody about his nightmares. He paused at that thought, and then decidedly shook his head to himself. No one would understand, he thought, forgoing then the effort to pick out decent school attire as he threw on a raggedy, old plaid button-up and khakis. A quick visit to the bathroom, and then he collected his weighty book-bag and bounded downstairs to greet his aunt for breakfast- he was currently living with her- she was a slender woman with laughing eyes and bouncing blond hair, quite an attractive woman in the eyes of most, Sam supposed, but to him, she was simply 'Aunt Clara'. She smelt of ginger and butter as she caught him by the collar and pulled him in to kiss his cheek. Although how he'd been able to deduce the distinct smells from those of waffles and hot chocolate wafting through the kitchen was beyond sam. He greeted her as genuinely as possible and waved off the idea of a proper breakfast, feeling sickly and agitated over his recent ordeal. With a short farewell, Sam made a quick exit. his aunt called after him, her voice characteristically cheerful and benign, reminding him to make good choices at school today. With a defeated sigh and roll of his eyes, Sammy obliged before proceeding across the nicely shaven yard toward school. School, he thought as he made his way, another day without her.
"I hated school. I use to be top of my class, smart-ass kid who always got things done- never relied on anyone to do the work because they wouldn't. I was an independent kid, but social. after her death things changed for the worst. I hated it. school couldn't keep me from thinking about her, it certainly made it harder. My grades dropped, I was still independent but not social. I spent class periods staring at boards, listening to the loud whispers behind me day after day. "He killed Cassidy? No way- that's not a Sam thing to do- he's a good guy!" "Well obviously not if he killed her!" "Why would he kill her, weren't they like in love?" "Maybe it was a cover up?" "For what?" "How much he couldn't stand her? Jack said she was quite the slut back when.." "A slut? That's not Cassidy- we use to be best friends back in elm and I'm damn sure she wouldn't do such a thing-" "Just what Jack said-" "Jack is-"
"A cocky, arrogant, no good douche bag!" You see, I couldn't keep my cool whenever I heard someone talk about her and by this time I was turned around, pissed. "Shut your freaking traps about her- no she was not a slut, she was most sensitive, courageous, beautiful and intelligent girl I had ever and will ever meet in my life. I loved her with all my heart and I did not kill her!" I raged out, I couldn't control it, you know? On to my feet I took the hefty book-bag in to hand and bounded out. Screw them, I thought, what a waste of air. "
"Senior year was
- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
so hey! i'm [ronnie] and there is no doubt about it,
i'm a [girl]. i've been rocking in this world for [sixteen years].
yanno this crazy shit called roleplaying? well i've been
doing it for years.
i'm a [girl]. i've been rocking in this world for [sixteen years].
yanno this crazy shit called roleplaying? well i've been
doing it for years.
- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
Losses ran higher than the wins as nearly a year passed by. Converse were now old, broken at the white rubber sole and fraying at a rip near the back. Where there should have been white blocks to counter the black, there was a dingy sort of brown, having been long stained by the elements. He was different, too. No longer occupied by thoughts of her, the only one that had won and yet broken his 'tender heart', he was too absorbed with life to care when they passed one another on campus. It was to be said, on her part, that hazel eyes clung to him as long as they could every time. He may have stopped noticing, but apparently, she never did. The boy whose story was followed so delicately until now was finally forced to let go of it all. The pain, the emotion and the insane amounts of stress he had bestowed upon himself were now gone. It was so pure to be so free at last, but also empty because it was a mystery as to what he was going to do with himself now. His life had been so involved with avoiding problems and keeping busy that when it was all over, he would find a gaping hole within himself.
No longer anxious to volunteer at every opportunity that came around, he began to rediscover one of the things he had originally enjoyed so much when he first came to the school—the people. So many who were so different that corresponded with the various aspects of his personality. They hadn't corresponded as much as the girl before him did. Burning a hole in to him and once she was gone the hole had yet to heal. Now, converse were replaced by soaked through cleats. The sharp scent of freshly cut grass lingered in the air and the decapitated blades clung to both pairs of shoes as the two had played soccer. "Ha ha wasn't that a rather mean joke? Starting to sound like Cameron, "He shook his head with a chuckle, no way did he want to become his older more immature brother. Rebecca squirmed and her laughter echoed again but ceased. "Stop, stop." But now the rain was coming down harder than before and hardly a dry spot could be found on either of their person. Laughter turned to smiles and a hand tenderly circled his wrist, head shaking side to side in a sort of ‘no’. Now she moved over on to her back on the ground, reaching out to touch him. All laughter had stopped. Her gentle finger tips shakily touching his cheek as she began to move towards him. Something telling him this wasn't right, a shouldn't do type of thing.
Caden softly grabbed her wrist, not exactly trying to stop her. His hand was clasped, the only hint that the two seemed more than “just friends” as many would assume. Neither seemed to have been looking for it to happen. Flashbacks flushing back to him, the pain of their separation making it's way to back him. The feeling he had tried to ignore and fill with other things. How this felt like it did back when they were together. From there it had all progressed to a state of timid interest on both parts and eventually a casual relationship so unlike those previous. It was new, both innocent and curious and it worked in a gracious manner. Bright hazeled green eyes were offset and yet complimented by a hazy gray-blue as the two met and a smile broke out on his lips. It was drizzling now, but on another scene. Not near as cold, a more youthful, vibrant girl burst in through the double doors of her school’s commons area. Her long brown hair was matted down some from the droplets of water that clung to the strands, but she looked no worse for wear than everyone else on campus. A bounce in her step, even though a hefty load of school books weighed her down, she managed to get into the room with minimal hassle. This was where it all started, they had known each other for months before this day. Eyes meeting as Rebecca had joyfully made her way over to him, sitting her books on the table he sat at. The study hall of all places but it had happened there, a blurting of words and minds whirling. The start of their new relationship that eventually grew in to something unforgettable.
Fat droplets of water were making the ends of his hair, brown in color; curl up even more than their usual now. Lips pursed into a pout now, they continued to stay there in the rain, gazing into one anothers eyes (curiously on his part). He’d do anything for her, the one he might have loved and loved deeply if his taste didn’t lie elsewhere. Almost soaked from what was bestowed upon them by mother nature, a perfect moment was floating above them, but there had to be an end right? This was getting frustrating now, everything coming back with just a touch on the cheek, the door to the part of his mind that had been home to their memories was reopened now. She was all but forgotten, midterms and projects he needed to finish had occupied him before soccer took his free time. The seasons had changed far too early and most were still shocked over their split, but for Caden it was a must. It was bound to happen and he never wanted to get in so deep, the moment he figured it out was the moment he had to end it. Him. The one who had started it all.
No longer anxious to volunteer at every opportunity that came around, he began to rediscover one of the things he had originally enjoyed so much when he first came to the school—the people. So many who were so different that corresponded with the various aspects of his personality. They hadn't corresponded as much as the girl before him did. Burning a hole in to him and once she was gone the hole had yet to heal. Now, converse were replaced by soaked through cleats. The sharp scent of freshly cut grass lingered in the air and the decapitated blades clung to both pairs of shoes as the two had played soccer. "Ha ha wasn't that a rather mean joke? Starting to sound like Cameron, "He shook his head with a chuckle, no way did he want to become his older more immature brother. Rebecca squirmed and her laughter echoed again but ceased. "Stop, stop." But now the rain was coming down harder than before and hardly a dry spot could be found on either of their person. Laughter turned to smiles and a hand tenderly circled his wrist, head shaking side to side in a sort of ‘no’. Now she moved over on to her back on the ground, reaching out to touch him. All laughter had stopped. Her gentle finger tips shakily touching his cheek as she began to move towards him. Something telling him this wasn't right, a shouldn't do type of thing.
Caden softly grabbed her wrist, not exactly trying to stop her. His hand was clasped, the only hint that the two seemed more than “just friends” as many would assume. Neither seemed to have been looking for it to happen. Flashbacks flushing back to him, the pain of their separation making it's way to back him. The feeling he had tried to ignore and fill with other things. How this felt like it did back when they were together. From there it had all progressed to a state of timid interest on both parts and eventually a casual relationship so unlike those previous. It was new, both innocent and curious and it worked in a gracious manner. Bright hazeled green eyes were offset and yet complimented by a hazy gray-blue as the two met and a smile broke out on his lips. It was drizzling now, but on another scene. Not near as cold, a more youthful, vibrant girl burst in through the double doors of her school’s commons area. Her long brown hair was matted down some from the droplets of water that clung to the strands, but she looked no worse for wear than everyone else on campus. A bounce in her step, even though a hefty load of school books weighed her down, she managed to get into the room with minimal hassle. This was where it all started, they had known each other for months before this day. Eyes meeting as Rebecca had joyfully made her way over to him, sitting her books on the table he sat at. The study hall of all places but it had happened there, a blurting of words and minds whirling. The start of their new relationship that eventually grew in to something unforgettable.
Fat droplets of water were making the ends of his hair, brown in color; curl up even more than their usual now. Lips pursed into a pout now, they continued to stay there in the rain, gazing into one anothers eyes (curiously on his part). He’d do anything for her, the one he might have loved and loved deeply if his taste didn’t lie elsewhere. Almost soaked from what was bestowed upon them by mother nature, a perfect moment was floating above them, but there had to be an end right? This was getting frustrating now, everything coming back with just a touch on the cheek, the door to the part of his mind that had been home to their memories was reopened now. She was all but forgotten, midterms and projects he needed to finish had occupied him before soccer took his free time. The seasons had changed far too early and most were still shocked over their split, but for Caden it was a must. It was bound to happen and he never wanted to get in so deep, the moment he figured it out was the moment he had to end it. Him. The one who had started it all.
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