The Following - Part 3

         I feel like this is a big achievement, I made you a quasi-promise and actually followed through on it. Here, as promised, is part 3 of The Following. 

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/rain%20at%20night

                I woke up from my nap and realised that I’d been sleeping for longer than I meant to, as the streetlights were piercing the darkness of my apartment. The photo of her that I keep in a silver frame was just a cube of light at the end of my bed. I picked it up and replaced it on the shelf. I smiled to myself at the sight of her face and then turned away. I could hear water hitting the window, and the way the moon was coming through a small gap in the cloud cast a pale blue light over everything, making it easy for me to manoeuvre in the dark.

                I took the skittles from the side. I’d made sure to buy sour ones, because I knew she liked those best. I put my shoes back on and tried to decide between my coat and my umbrella. In the end, even though it was still around 24^oC outside, I reasoned that my coat would take up less room.

                It was raining heavier than I thought outside. I glanced up to see that her bedroom curtains were still closed, but the living room curtain were open and I could see the light from the TV screen flickering into the bleak night air. I pushed the skittles into my pocket and ran across the road to the foot of her building. I went to the back and began climbing the ladder there. I went up three floors and climbed from the metal landing onto the guttering. It was slippery tonight, but I’d anticipated that and had work shoes with more grip than usual. I’d learned that from past errors.

                From here, I sidled along the guttering until I came to her balcony. I climbed onto it silently and crept round to the French doors. I peered in at them; him sitting upright on the far left of the sofa, her cuddling into him. I sat cross-legged outside and realised I’d forgotten my camera. I cursed, but came to realise that due to the rain, I wouldn’t have been able to get a clear shot. Instead, I took out my skittles and began to eat.

                When the film finished, I started to leave, however he got up and put another one in. Although I was soaked to the bone and further, I decided to stay for the second one, to make up for missing the first half of ‘Taxi Driver’. I had a few skittles left anyway; I’d normally have eaten them faster but the darkness was making it difficult to see what colour I was eating, and I like to eat them in order. On his way back to the sofa, his eyes flicked to the window, and I think he almost saw me, because his gaze rested there for a moment, before she distracted him. When he looked back, I’d put my head down and had jammed my hands into my pockets, so that to him, I may just resemble a bin bag, or nothing at all. It worked, because when I slyly lifted my head around a minute later, he had resumed his position on the left of the sofa and was playing with her hair to the opening of ‘Fatal Attraction’.

                                      Sorry for spamming you! Thanks for reading anyway, you're swell!

                                                                           Laura

                                                                                  xoxoxoxoxox

Close Encounters of the Awkward Kind

       Hey, as I said around three minutes ago, here is the last of the stories that I had to take down a while back, all edited and improved and things. Hopefully you'll like it!

https://www.gov.uk/using-the-road-159-to-203/road-junctions-170-to-183

       Close encounters of the awkward kind. Ok, I can deal with this. I’ve met new people before, it’s no different. Well, I guess it is different, a bit. It’s different because it’s not completely my choice to meet this person; it’s Stacey’s idea. Maybe I’m one of those really awkward people who’d be happy being a hermit, just staying in one darkened room for days at a time, emerging only to use the toilet or to discover that the fridge has actually been empty for three days now; do I need to get milk on the way home?

       I think that’s them, outside Subway. Weird place to meet, Subway. Maybe it’s Stacey’s idea of ‘a relaxing place to meet’. Relaxing, to me, is not telling three people what I want in my sandwich and whether I want it toasted; relaxing is sitting in front of the telly, with my laptop on my knees - maybe reading a book - and eating, or drinking, or both. I like that information overload thing that accompanies doing all of that at once. I don’t know how that’s relaxing actually, thinking about it.

     ‘Hi, Jason! This is Mary; Mary, Jason. Let’s go eat, shall we?’ I smile at both, and offer my hand to Mary. She’s not as bad as I expected, but she’s not spoken yet, so she may still be a catastrophe yet. The other thing which makes me put my guard up a bit, is how perky Stacey sounded when she introduced us, like her tone would make us excited to see each other, it was almost patronising actually, it was like she’d arranged a play-date for Mary and me. I hope she doesn’t leave us alone too much. Ten minutes later, we’ve ordered, sat down and are making feeble attempts at small talk. I think I blacked out for those ten minutes, at least, I don’t remember what I was thinking about. Did I need milk on the way home?

      ‘What did you get, Jase?’

‘Err, chicken, ham, cheese; not toasted, lettuce and cucumber. No sauce – I don’t feel too daring today.’ Mary laughed at this. I inwardly rolled my eyes. It’s not that I don’t like her, I just have this pre-formed opinion because she’s Stacey’s idea. I don’t want this woman to find me funny, or clever, or attractive for any reason. I don’t know why I actually came here today; I’m not looking for love or any of that crap. I guess it might do me good to get out of the house more.

But not like this; not with Mary.

      Stacey broke my chain of thought again; ‘I’m just going to pop to the little girl’s room, why don’t you two have a little chat – get to know each other a bit?’ She left the table. I almost wanted to jump up and run after her, and I would have, but I think I’d get banned from Subway if I ran into the ladies’ room.

      ‘So, Jason, what do you do?’ Here we go – awkward chit-chat. My immediate response was to say something like; play XBOX in my underwear mostly, sometimes I remember to take the dog for a walk too; but I think she meant what job do I do.

        ‘I’m an accountant.’

        ‘Oh, wow, that’s so cool! Do you enjoy it?’ did she just say cool? She’s gotta be late 20’s, maybe even in her 30’s.

        ‘Not really, it’s dull. I don’t like the dicks I work with either; there’s almost no respite, but we do have pizza on Fridays, so that’s something.’ I don’t think that’s the response she was expecting, because she smiled that ‘what the hell’ smile you do when someone tells an unfunny joke, but you don’t want to seem rude.

        We went back to our sandwiches then. I don’t know what she was thinking about; maybe she was considering chasing Stacey into the bathroom too. At any rate, the silence allowed me to go back to my thoughts. What was I thinking about? Saying that, or thinking it – whatever; I don’t think you’re meant to ask yourself what you were thinking about when you think. I do it a lot a think.  Why is it called a ‘stream of consciousness’? it’s not like a slow, meandering stream which trickles beautifully through a forest clearing, feeding little rabbits and deer; it’s more or a cross-junction of consciousness – you get cars of thought speeding at all angles into each other, interrupting one, maybe crashing into each other, one slow, pretty old thought – which probably shouldn’t be allowed to drive anymore because of its age – slowing down a younger, possibly more interesting or important one, just because it’s got cataracts  or the new technology in cars these days is scaring it. I think I’m confusing my thoughts with people. The women’s room door opens and we both fling our heads towards it, hoping – I’m hoping; Maud probably is too. I mean Mary, whatever.

          A woman who isn’t Stacey steps out of the bathroom. Crap. I should ask her something.

         ‘So, Mary; what do you do in your spare time?’

        ‘Well, I’m 35, so it feels like it’s too late for me to really meet someone special and have kids, you know? So every Thursday I go out in the evening and try to seduce men, I’ve never gotten pregnant though, which is a shame. I wouldn’t ask them for money for the child or anything, I just really want a baby. Men just don’t seem to come back to my place though, and when they do, they tend to leave pretty quickly; maybe it’s all the baby pictures – I just get them from ‘Google images’. I’ve already got a collection of baby clothes, I’ve got fifteen baby-grows, 30 bibs, some really cute sets of dungarees, I’ve got some – ‘ at this point, I realised that my eyes were dry from staring and my eyebrows hurt from having them raised in shock and fear. Part of me wanted to see if her house was as bad as the image she had created, but I was terrified too. I think this may be my cue to leave. I felt rude interrupting her, but she was baby-crazy. I couldn’t take it anymore.

          ‘Hey, you know what? I think I left the oven on; I’m going to have to leave. So sorry to cut this short – you’re, well you’re, just…swell. You’ve been great.’

          ‘Oh, well, can I call you?’

          ‘Erm, no, I don’t have a phone.’

          ‘You don’t? How can I get in touch with you?’

         ‘Erm, carrier pigeon?  No, that won’t work, they won’t find me in the asylum.’ I wasn’t sure if this was putting her off or not, she seemed enthralled by it. Crap.

          ‘The asylum? Which one are you in? I could come and see you, maybe Thursday night?’

          ‘Thursday’s no good, we sing karaoke on Thursday nights and they usually end up sedating me. Anyway, like I said, I should get back, they don’t know I’m here, I managed to escape and they’re bound to notice that the bag of potatoes isn’t me soon enough. Tell Stacey I said goodbye, I’ve had a great time. Bye.’

        I left quickly, not completely aware of what just happened. I appear to have let some sort of cross-junction of thought collide with word-vomit, which I didn’t know, until now, could even happen. Hold on though, what if she was telling me all the baby stuff to put me off of her? No. I will not give up that easily. I’m going to go back in there, and I’m going to really sell myself. Maybe I’ll tell her I’m a compulsive liar; that way I can just deny everything I just said. Pseudologia Fantastica – compulsive lying. If I say the medical name, she’ll have to believe me; you wouldn’t just know that. Why do I just know that? What if I am a compulsive liar? Of course I’m not; I’m a compulsive thinker and a compulsive twat.

          Anyway; back to Mary.

         Watch out for part 3 of The Following, hopefully tomorrow, perhaps even tonight, I won't promise, we all know where that leads! Take care of yourself!

                             Thanks for reading! Laura

                                                           xoxoxoxox

Awakening

   Hiya, same thing as before, the 'Awakening' post is making it's reappearance! I'll be done with my deadline, and the whole of this term on Thursday this week, so hopefully Friday, I'll get on at least writing part 3 of 'The Following', which I didn't realise until yesterday was a TV series here in the UK, after I saw it in the newspaper. Oh well, I hope you like this, it's been chopped about a bit but I think it's better for it in many ways. 

http://www.zazzle.co.uk/heaven_and_hell_poster-228508853192806505

                I am awake. This world is not dissimilar to mine, yet it feels so abstract; so alien. It smells different and the clouds are pink; not in that lovely, almost dusk, sort of way, but rather, in way which screams of difference. I have never known the clouds to be like these. Nor have I ever encountered the strange feelings which are aroused by the curious little animals moving past, almost floating on the breeze. They are not unlike rabbits of squirrels, yet have a dark and mystical quality to them. I can only liken my feelings of awe and confusion to picking a sweet in the dark, and finding that it is not the flavour you’d been expecting. I wonder if I’ve regained consciousness at all, for the land which I find myself a part of is most certainly not the world which I left behind. I pinch myself; Pain. Certainly awake then, but how can this all be real?

                I wonder if there’s still a trace of the drug in my system; if the fanged, red-eyed animals caressing past me are, in actual fact, wrappers from crisps and sandwiches, dropped by careless individuals, whom my eyes do not perceive. I’ve been pumped full of morphine for days. No, weeks; months. I barely have a concept of time anymore and I’m not even sure if my pain has been taken away or repressed. Maybe I can still feel it - but then, really, I can’t feel anything.

                The creatures are circling me now and I can see myself reflected in their glass-like red eyes. I don’t know if they’re hostile or if they just want to be helped, loved, like I do. Their appearance was at first startling, however I seem to have grown used to it over the short time I’ve been here. S I watch them, their appearance seems to be softening – though perhaps that is my own perception as a result of not finding them quite so fearsome any more. They are moving away now, some of them seem to be guiding me, others seem to be trying to tempt me from the path. Even though I have no knowledge of this world; I can safely deduce that to stray from the path is foolish.

                I’ve been standing completely still for this time, not daring to move, less I fall into some sort of void in this illusion. I decide to take the risk. I squeeze my eyes shut and pin my arms to my sides. I move one foot out in front of me and hold my breath, muscles tightening. Then my foot lands. I open my eyes and peer tentatively to the floor. The ground is solid, but there’s something quite strange about it which I am, at present, unable to identify. I decide to walk on, hoping to find some sort of explanation of the universe in which I find myself present. The nature around me (if you can call it natural) moves and dances alongside me as I make my way down a slowly emerging path.

                The scenery appears to be moving - as opposed to myself - so I look back down at my feet, and realise that they seem to be floating. Shocked, I kneel down in an attempt to disprove my theory. Imagine my combined relief and awe when I placed my fingertips delicately on the floor, to find that it is made of glass! I at first believed it to be a mirror, however just as soon dismissed this idea, on account of only being able to see my own reflection very slightly.

                I stand, trying to take in as much of the place as I possibly can. In terms of colour; it’s mostly yellow - the colour of duckling feathers in the spring sunlight – calm and soothing. There are flashes of pink from the clouds, and splatters of lilac foliage. I wonder if I’m in heaven.

                The small animals have gathered close around me again, they are stifling me. I feel hot and cold, and weightless and heavy all at once. I feel like laughing, like crying, like screaming; like vomiting. I didn’t know I could feel like this, but then again; I don’t know what I was feeling. What I’m feeling is the result of my brain shutting down. I heard them saying a while ago that they were going to ‘pull the plug’, as it were. At the time, I was angry with them, all of them. I didn’t want to die and I didn’t understand why they didn’t care if I did. Then I heard my mother whisper ‘I love you, darling’ into my ear, ever so tenderly; the way she always did, and a sense of calm washed over me.

                I’m not sure if you ever truly come to terms with your own death; but in this instance, I felt pretty close. I’ve not heard anything more for a while now. I’m going to miss them.

                I walk on, trying to look around, however finding myself captivated by what lies beneath the glass path. The colours under my feet are altering, yellow darkening to orange, pink to crimson. Eventually it becomes a swirling smog of black and blood-red. It brought such pangs of fear and trepidation to my heart. I look up, intending to run from the blackness below, only to find that the plane I was inhabiting had begun to mirror the one below. I let out a small yelp, which made no sound. This was the first time that I noticed the absence of sound in the world. Until now, I had been so wrapped up in the colours and beauty in the world that I forgot leaves are partial to rustling, while birds have a tendency to chirp.

                The black and scarlet clouds were now whipping around into a spiral of tentacles, reaching out to me, ever so gently. I stood frozen in shock. I should mention retrospectively, that standing still in such a situation is ill-advised; as, at that very moment, one of the tentacles took hold of me around the waist and withdrew me into its midst.

                I believed this would be my conclusion. However, after a few terrifying minutes of being thrown around by what I could only perceive to be clouds; I was spat out, landing heavily on the glass floor. I felt shaken, but relieved. I sat motionless for a moment of indeterminable time, observing the ordinary colours of the world return. I was about to stand when a sickening crack pierced the silence, drawing more attention to the fact that, until now, there had been not one instance of noise. I looked around, expecting to see the branch of a tree fall, or a storm cloud building. There was nothing; and then I was falling. Falling into obscurity, into the bottom half of this inexplicable place. I felt like I had no substance, I felt like Alice when she fell in Wonderland. I felt free. I Knew I was dying. Then the world went black again, but this time, it was peace.       

            I hope you liked this, I'm quite fond of it as a piece and I think it's a bit of a display of the way that I place so much emphasis on colour, as discussed in my synaesthesia post. Aside from that, I'm hoping to be back soon with something new, assuming that between now and 3pm on Thursday, I don't have a massive, brain melting break-down :)

                            Thanks for reading! Laura

                                                           xoxoxox

How to Fight a Dragon

     It's back! One of the most popular posts on here which had to be taken down a while ago because of coursework regulations is back! As I said in the last post, I've got quite a few deadlines, one of which is pretty substantial for next week, so I've got little time for writing part 3 of 'The Following'. I couldn't leave you hanging, so it's back, much improved and still sparkly. 

http://rinpoo-chuang.deviantart.com/art/dragon-hurlant-24245064

                ‘Where’s dad going?’
                ‘He’s going back to work; there was some sort of emergency.’
                ‘Again? It’s ten at night, he should be in bed, Liam.’
                ‘So should you.’
                ‘I am in bed. I was waiting for him to tell me a story like he promised he would…Will you tell me a story?’
                ‘Ahh, Amy, you know I’m not good at that.’
                ‘Please?’
                ‘You should be asleep.’
                ‘I’ll go straight to sleep after, I promise! Pleeease, Liam?’
                ‘Ohhh, Alright. Budge up. What do you want it to be about?’
                ‘A princess in a castle.’
    ‘Ugh, right ok. Once upon a time, there was a castle –‘
                ‘What kinda castle?’
                ‘A big, blue one… with a glittery roof.’
                ‘That doesn’t sound very exciting.’
                'You wanna know what was exciting about it?’
                ‘What?’

           ‘It wasn’t always blue; see, in the winter it was blue, because it was cold, and because everyone knows that blue castles look really great next to snow. Next, in the spring, it was pink, but only in the day time, because at night time – it went yellow so that anyone who’d been playing in the woods could find their way back home, when the moon shone on the castle. In the summer, it turned orange, and went all kinds of red and purple in the night, then in autumn, it was still red, but it had orange in there too. In autumn, the roof stopped being glittery, and became thatched, so it looked cosy, ready for the winter. One day, this castle attracted a new visitor; and not the kind it was used to. This visitor wasn’t a prince seeking the hand of the beautiful princess who lived inside; nor was it a merchant, trying to sell the king something made from gold and rubies. This visitor was…a dragon!’

                ‘What kind of dragon? Was it big?’

                ‘Gargantuan’

                ‘Did it have sharp teeth?’

                ‘Razor’

                ‘Was it a boy dragon? Did it smell?’

                ‘It was an angry lady dragon! And she smelt of the most horrible meal dad has ever cooked us!’

                 ‘The lasagne he burned? That smelled horrible!’

                ‘Exactly like that. Anyway, this dragon came to the castle and blocked out the light that it sent out to help people back from the forest. It lasted for three days, and so many of the town’s folk hand gotten lost in the forest, that the princess felt she had to help. She asked her father, who said he had some other very important things to do; being as he was the king and all. So the little princess thought long and hard. In the end, she came up with a plan; she went about the castle and gathered everything she could think of to help her with her plan. She got some pots and pans, she gathered her toys, she even took all of the clothes from her dolls, and even some of her own! You see, this little princess wasn’t like all of the other little princesses, no, she was a very kind little girl who often wondered why she should have so many nice things, just because her daddy was the boss of everyone.’

                     ‘He sounds like our dad, with his stupid job.’

                ‘I know, but you know he’s only working so much because we don’t get mum’s wage anymore.’

                ‘…do you think mummy is happy in heaven?’

                ‘I think she’s very happy. I think she’s with her mum and dad, and Jasper, do you remember Jasper?’

                ‘Yeah, I think so, was Jasper the dog or the cat?’

                ‘The cat. The dog was Ralph.’

                ‘I tried to show dad my school work today. I got a sticker because it was really good. He said he was busy. Why is he so busy these days, Liam?’

                ‘I told you; he has to work more because it’s only his money coming in now.’

                ‘Could we get jobs to help?’

                ‘Soon, Amy.’

                ‘I could make a lemonade stand’

                ‘You don’t know how to make lemonade. Plus, it’s November, no-one wants lemonade in November, it’s not a November drink. Besides – you’d freeze. Now, shall I finish the story now? Or shall we finish by considering the meaning of life?’

                ‘Carry on, what did the princess do?’

                ‘Well, she made a big patchwork blanket out of all of the material she’d collected and used some ribbons to tie it to a basket, then she tied another ribbon from the bottom of the basket to her curtain rail. She put the basket on the window frame and climbed inside the basket, then she gathered up the big, patchwork blanket and took out a hairdryer. She tuned on the hairdryer and it began to inflate the blanket, until it was like a big balloon. The balloon started floating upwards in the air, until it was level with the face of the dragon. The little princess looked like a tiny speck against the dragon’s face. At first, the dragon didn’t notice the princess, so she had time to put together a big shield, made from the pots and pans she’d collected from the kitchen. She wore a colander as a helmet and fashioned a sword from a big knife tied to the end of a broom. She’d made sure that her sword was resistant to flame, as she’d asked the wise old wizard to cast a special spell on it for her. What the princess didn’t know, was that the wizard had enchanted her sword with a charm of true shot, to help her take down the mighty dragon! She used her sword to poke the dragon to get its attention, and when it turned around, it was even more terrifying than she had imagined! You see, from up close, the dragon was even meaner, even darker, even angrier, and even   smellier than she was from afar. The little princess was scared for a moment, and then remember the awesome, kick-arse spells –‘

                ‘You’re not allowed to say arse, mum used to say it’s rude.’

                ‘Well you just said it, so I guess it’s fine now, right? Anyway, she remembered the awesome, kick-arse spells the wizard had put on her weapons, so she felt really brave. She squared up to the dragon and shouted “I’m not afraid of you!” and threw the sword as if it were a javelin. It struck the dragon in its scaly under-belly – the best place to strike a beast; I mean, think about in Lord of the Rings, Sam and Frodo are screwing about trying to kill the spider and when Sam finally gets her in the under-belly, she goes down –‘

                ‘Liam, I haven’t seen Lord of the Rings; I’m nine.’

                ‘Err, right. So, the sword hits the dragon in the under-belly, and it lets out this huge dragony howl. In its last moments, it tries to breathe fire onto the princess. But the princess was cunning; she knew that dragons could breathe fire, because she watched Game of Thrones against her father’s wishes, so she brought with her the royal fire extinguisher. Not only was the royal fire extinguisher able to extinguish fire, but it was also huge, and gold. The princess squeezed the fire extinguisher into the open mouth of the dragon, quenching its flame. All the dragon could do, was let out a tiny puff of smoke, and burst into flames. The little princess jumped from her basket into her bedroom, where her father had been looking on, astonished. He had been so frightened to see his little girl out on her own in so dangerous a place, but he couldn’t have felt more pride at her bravery and cunning. They declared the day national princess day, and used the princess’ blanket-turned hot-air balloon to cover the blot on the landscape that was the ashen remains of the fearsome dragon. Among the remains though, was a tiny dragon, who hadn’t been around long enough to learn anger, and so the princess adopted the dragon and trained it to be awesome. Then they ate cupcakes and drank Vimto. The end.’

                ‘Woah. I think that was your best story ever! Was the princess actually me?’

                ‘Well, I guess so, do you think you could fight a dragon?’

                ‘Will daddy ever be proud of me?’

                ‘Dad is proud of you every day. And so am I, which is far more important. Now, try to get some sleep, you’ve got some dragons to slay tomorrow. Goodnight, Amy.’

                ‘Goodnight Liam. Hey, Liam,’

                ‘Yes, Amy?’

                ‘You’re the best. I love you, ok?’

                ‘That’s fine by me, I love you too. Goodnight, kiddo’ 

http://www.sodahead.com/fun/what-type-of-cuteness-definitely-gets-your-attention/question-1225545/

         Aww, I really want a baby dragon now. I'd keep him in the garden though because he'd get too big for the house. He'd be really good if the oven/toaster/microwave/boiler breaks (again). I've gone off on a tangent. I hope you liked this! I'll try to write part 3 real soon, I'm sorry for the delay if you're waiting for it at all.

                                  Thanks for reading! Laura

                                                                 xoxoxox

The Following - Part 2

        I won't bore you - here's part two of that thing you liked last time.

http://www.womenshealth.gov/violence-against-women/types-of-violence/stalking.cfm

         It was three months until we saw him again. I'd been enjoying our trips into the town centre, walks to the library, even just the bus rides to 'ASDA' had become something I looked forward to. I knew all of her friends by name, and had even gone with her to 'Bella Italia' when she met her parents in there one Tuesday. I'd almost forgotten about him, so hated the reality of his existence. Still, he's the reason I've been seeing so much of her, so I guess I can't complain about him too much. He got off of the train at 1:42 pm. He was wearing the same coat as before, despite the increase in temperature that three months often brings. I'd have felt more resentment towards him, had she not shown such joy in her face when they embraced. We walked slowly together out of the station and went to 'Nando's'. He had a bag with him which looked quite full, so I assumed he'd be staying for the weekend. Great.

          Over the next hour, I learned that his name was Anthony and he was studying for his Master's Degree in Biochemistry. Show-off. They decided to watch 'Taxi Driver' later on that night. I've never liked the movie myself, but for her, I thought I'd swing by to watch it with them. We left together and walked back to her flat instead of catching the bus - the sun had come out while we'd been in 'Nando's' so it was lovely walking weather. 

          When we got back, they went into her flat, and I went across the road to mine to nap. I also wanted to get my camera, so I could take some photos of the night. I waved to them, but they didn't look back; they were laughing together and disappearing inside the building. Shortly after, I saw her open the curtains of what must have been her bedroom. He came behind her then and embraced her. He kissed her neck and she turned to him. I went into my building then - it was too painful to watch her in the arms of another.

                 Thank you so much for coming back to read the second part of this, I'll aim to have the third part up soon as possible, but it may be a bit longer until my next post, as I have some big ol' deadlines coming up!

                                      Thanks again, you are wonderful. Laura

                                                                                         xoxoxox