Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26849473-20150915005642

My friend showed me a story she wrote when she was 12. I thought it was pretty good! And she gave me permission to finish it, which I think I am going to do. But I wanna see what you guys think about what she wrote. Keep in mind that she was 12 and this was around 5 years ago.

I
It's the anticipation. The anticipation of having to leave, to leave to somewhere that isn't here, that knots my stomach with incredible fire. I hate it, I hate every second of thinking about having to spend any of my time with these people. Does that make me socially awkward, or just plain rude. I'm not even sure, but I think it could be a combination of the two.

Why? Why am I like this? Are the pills not working anymore? I haven't seen anything strange in a long time, not since at least two months ago. Not since the doctor prescribed the Ativan. It has eased the terror a little, but I hate them. They make me feel weird, disorientated. Like I'm not in control of myself.

I decide it would be best to take a shower to calm my nerves before she gets here. It's not too long a flight from Mexico City to Rio de Janeiro, but it is probably going to see like dripping hours with all the stress in my mind. I sigh, and crank the shower head all the way over to get the temperature a mildly scalding setting. I start to undress, taking off my shirt first, then my pants. My underwear is soiled with red clay from the hike with Danielle yesterday, so I unclip my bra first, flecks of red dust powdering off. I don't really like looking at myself naked, so I veer away from the mirror as I remove my panties. I just don't like looking. At all.

The last thing I do is open the creaky wooden frames over the unpaned window, to let the sun in, and to see the view of the snow peaked mountains one last time. The city lies forbidden under the shadows of the terra formations. At night, when all the lights are blinking, and shine on the sides of the cavernous walls of the rolling bottoms, it's like a pearl in the dark lips of a clam. I always take time to soak in things like this, it's seems like a reasonable thing to do. And it keeps me occupied when I am feeling a little splintered.

The first thing I do is run my fingertips over the water, feeling the heat pounding off the liquid. I take one step in, and the fiery water burns for a few seconds, but adjusts afterwards. I have taken showers like this so much, I think my skin is immune to the abuse. I find myself not even caring about washing my hair, or body, but just lowering myself into the tub and curling into a small ball near the faucet. I cross my arms over my knees, and lower my head down, and close my eyes, letting the water take a somewhat relaxing effect. I dread when I will have to get out, and start packing.

Once I am out of the shower, and have a towel wrapped around my hair, and one wrapped around my chest, I head for my small room near the back of our small, yet colorful little apartment. I still remember the day we, we being Danielle and I, chose to leave Minnesota and coming here for school. I like Mexico, at least here I could get away from my family for awhile. I think they are little worried about me choosing to move in with Danielle. They begged me to stay here for school, but I told them something cliche like "You don't own me, leave me alone", packed my bags, and headed down here. Not much of a story there, or much of a reason we chose Mexico. I guess because we both like warm weather.

My room is right across from the villa kitchen that is placed in the middle of the apartment. I chose the smaller room, to Danielle's protest, because mainly I like small spaces. They make me feel secure. I feel like in larger places, people are watching me, or talking about me. They hurt my head, and make me feel uneasy.

I see the suitcase on my bed, it's still opening with hardly anything folded inside expect a one piece bikini and some sunblock. The dresser right across from my bed hold all my clothes I am taking with me, so I just pull out the entire top drawer and set it right in front of the suitcase. Picking up the already folded clothes in stacks, I placed as much of them as possible as I can in the suitcase. I look in the mirror as I do this, and see a stand of my thin blonde hair hanging out of the towel, and now I sort of wish I did wash my hair. It's probably going to get all greasy and the air outside is humid, which is going to be a disaster. Eh, just one more thing to worry about I guess. Once I get all the clothes in, I still have space for my bag full of hairspray and my blow dyers, things like that. Once that is in there, the space is almost full. So I just zip it shut, and then head over the the nightstand. The pills lay in a Ziploc bag.

Should I take them with me? Do I really need them? I will only be gone a week. And I don't want that feeling of discomfort they give me. I am already going to feel bad anyways, why add more to the pile. I am playing with the thought in my head, touching the plastic, feeling the hard little pills, trying to crush them. It is a mental decision, but I leave the room with my suitcase, and the pills aren't inside.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses from the wicker basket on the end of the granite counter in the kitchen, I go outside on the deck, and take a seat on one of the chairs on our little deck attached to the back of our apartment. It has to be at least a hundred degrees outside, because the heat instantly slaps my in face, and heats my entire body in two seconds. I lower the sunglasses over my eyes, and it makes the orange terrain a burnt orange color. I sit back, and try to remember how I even got into this mess.

I remember it was a Saturday night, and me and Danielle had just gotten back from a little bar called "Cactus en la Medianoche", and she was highly intoxicated. I didn't drink anything alcoholic, because the pills I am on says it would be a highly unwise choice, and someone had to drive us home anyways. She was blabbering in the back of the car about something, raising her legs, lying back down on the seat, drumming her feet on the window. That is when she started going about about something in a Spanish slur for some reason,

"Usted va a encantar la cabina este mes de julio será muy divertido sé que te gustará haha" she giggled from the back. I was highly confused, not because she said it in Spanish, we actually talk a lot in Spanish, but of what she said. ''Cabin in July? What fucking cabin?''

I even remember having to put her arm around my neck and haul her into the apartment. She was incoherent, and a little faded, so I just half carried her into her bedroom at the back corner of the apartment, almost hitting her head across the baby sentia on the way into her room. Sighing, knowing I am going to have to wait in the morning to figure out what she was meaning, I went to bed as well, only to be met with nightmares, pitch black darkness, and the unknown to pain my sleep.

It was in the morning she told me about the trip she has planned for us. At first, it sounded like a lot of fun. Someone from MCC in her class apparently owned a small, family cottage just off Rio in the Tijuca forest. She showed me pictures of the surprisingly modern cabin, and said we could go for about a week sometime next month, which would be July. Right as I was about to shake my head, was when she mentioned she invited her friends Summer and Liza, some people she met in her Advanced Statistics class, along with us. My heart literally plummeted, and I still to this point have no idea why. I mean, I am not a social butterfly or anything, but I have never gotten this worked up over having to stay with people. Not to mention I know both Summer and Liza just enough to make out that Liza was a religious fanatic, and that she also had a weird boyfriend named Jay. I didn't know that much about Summer though. I knew they were all from America, and that only somewhat fueled the anxiety.

She could tell just by the look in my eyes, that I hated the idea of other people going. She put her hand on my leg, and told me face to face that we didn't have to do this. That we could just go another time by ourselves, but it might be a long time before she got that much time off school again. I could easily tell that she wanted to do this really badly, so for the sake of her I said it was completely fine they are going, and added in a "guess we should buy better suitcases to carry all our shit." She smiled really big, and gave me a long hug. We both knew I didn't want to do this, but hey, it was Danielle.

And now, here I am, sitting here waiting for Danielle to get off school and come pulling up with the rental car that will take us to the airport, and then aboard a plane to Rio. My heart is keeping a consistent heavy beat all though my body. I wish it would calm just a little, because it is making my head quake with little springs of pain. And I can't tell if the sweat is from anxiety or the heat. Taking a wild guess, I would say stress.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[9097,9473,0,0]}">It's okay, I will do this. I am already this far, there is no stopping now. All Danielle has talked about is this trip, will we see some of the waterfalls, maybe even seeing an exotic parrot or two. It's just been a non-stop subject. And I feel guiltier each time she tells me things we are going to do, because part of me it thinking about just staying inside the whole time.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[9475,10009,0,0]}">A bug lands on my arm. It's green skin is being reflected by the sun, making it neon colored, and shimmery. I reach over to touch it, sense it seems pretty harmless, and as I am reached my arm over, it flicks it's head back. Not in a defensive tone, not to bite me, it just flicks it head back, naturally. And it's tiny little eyes have blue irises, and pupils. Just like human eyes. I can't tell if I hit my arm on the chair, because I jump straight out of the chair, swatting at my arm, screaming in unison with my rapid heart beat.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[10011,10646,0,0]}">"What...what..." I keep muttering to myself, nearly in tears. I know I didn't just imagine that. That bug had eyes exactly like a human. It was unrealistic, it didn't even look like it was in the right universe. I think I stopped screaming about two minutes later, when I walked back in the house, a blank look on my face. I curled into a little ball on the end of our couch inside the the small living room, shaking. I don't think I even blinked again until I heard the front door slam shut, and Danielle padded into the room. Get up, get up right now, and pretend to be okay. I hazily rose into a sitting position, and smiled at her.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[10648,10751,0,0]}">"Hey-" my voice cracked, and my face got hot immediately. Now she is going to know something was wrong.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[10753,10845,0,0]}">"Huh...? Are you okay?" she sits in the spot next to me, putting her bag on the floor. Damn.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[10847,10930,0,0]}">"Y-yeah, I was just asleep for awhile." A weak response, but a least she bought it.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[10932,10992,0,0]}">"Well," she smiled, standing up, "Are you packed and ready?"

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[10994,11046,0,0]}">"Yeah, let me go get my suitcase.. it's in my room."

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[11048,11332,0,0]}">"Okay, I'll get mine, the car will be in here in about.... 10 minutes? So get anything you need." She gave me a quick hug, and I could smell the coconut oil on her tanned skin, and the aroma of flowers in her hazel brown hair. She always smelled so good, compared to my regular scent.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[11334,11705,0,0]}">When I go into my room, I still cannot get those eyes out of my head. Why... why did that happen? It is a hallucinogenic effect from the pill this morning? They make me feel a little weird, but nothing that surreal has ever happened before. Trying to perish the image etched into my mind, I take my suitcase off the bed and lift it over my head, and on my right shoulder.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[11707,12469,0,0]}">Danielle is outside, getting into the annoyingly bright taxi that is taking us to the airport. My head is foggy, and my mind is else where. I think she is talking about waterfalls and bird feathers, but how can I even pay attention and listen to anything she has to say right now...? All I can think about is the humane eyes burning a hole in my head, and my pills sitting on the table about a mile away now. Hah, anyone else would say forget about it, but how can you? It's useless. I think about my life to this point. Pure shit, and more shit. Fucking shit. I can't began to describe the utter terror in my stomach, but for some odd reason, I want to smile. I look at Danielle, and she her mouth moving, but hear nothing. I buzz is ringing in my ears for now.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[12471,12696,0,0]}">And I give her the biggest smile I can. I even add a laugh. Because, fuck, I'm already slipping, better act like it. The taxi turns onto the street where the airport hides behind some rock formation, and I can't stop smiling.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[12698,12834,0,0]}">Is Danielle looking at me weird? Why does she hate me? What the fuck did I do to her? I can't have her hating me. I need her on my side.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[12836,12911,0,0]}">"Danielle, I know you hate me, please don't." I squeak out between a laugh.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[12913,13053,0,0]}">"I'm sorry... what?" She is struggling to point the driver in the right the direction, but seems taken aback on the reason I asked her this.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[13055,13224,0,0]}">Fuck her. I lean back in my seat, and close my eyes. I'm really tired. I really am. Am I strange for thinking the bug was a little cute looking? Hah... I love blue eyes.

II
<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[13234,13544,0,0]}">The desire has never been stronger, the pulse of heat igniting within my crotch hasn't cooled in awhile. I'm sitting in the darkness of my house, with not a soul around to witness these sins. I don't live with anyone anyways, but the thought of someone coming in and seeing only makes it all the more exciting.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[13546,13896,0,0]}">I can feel it solid and cold in my hands. She looks so beautiful when I hold her up in the setting sunlight coming in through the window. You can see the cracks in the yellowish ossein, and you can see the gnarled teeth jutting out from the jawline. I run my hand over the hard surface once more time, and the eye sockets seem warm, silky, and ready.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[13898,14190,0,0]}">I place her back on the desk, and contemplate what I should do first. Should I lay her on the bed, and walk in naked, saying something dirty about her. I don't think she is the kind of person that likes those kinds of things though. I think she would like something more simple, more vanilla.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[14192,14616,0,0]}">I decide on just setting her on the foot of my bed, and crawl on the floor, onto the bed, and then giving her my all. So I pick her up off the desk carefully, the hard, crusty feeling making the warmth start to drip all in my body again. The spot at the end of my bed lays still with only a blanket folded at the end of it. I place her in the middle of it, perfect alignment only. I can't have her crooked and uncomfortable.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[14618,14955,0,0]}">Seeing her sitting there, saying nothing is a little irritating though. Why doesn't she talk to me? It makes me upset sometimes, I feel like this relationship is one sided. Just waiting for her to open up to me is killing my affection for her. But now isn't the time to be thinking about such trivial matters, she awaits me to mount her.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[14957,15372,0,0]}">Once I leave the room and enter into the bathroom two rooms down the hall, I flick the lights on and get a look at me. The dirt is still smeared all over my skin where I extracted her from her darkness she dwelled in. My hoodie is pretty much ruined with soil and mud, but it doesn't matter. I did it for her and that's all that matters. She is happy, and that is what makes me happy. It's all that matters anymore.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[15374,15962,0,0]}">I unzip my hoodie, which shows my only partially soiled undershirt. I remove it, and it reveals some cuts and bruises on my body, probably from where I fell in a few times removing her. I can't feel anything right now but joy though, as I turn on my shower. It doesn't take long for the steam to fill the room, and fog my bathroom mirrors. I unbuckle my belt and slide out of the muddy jeans I was wearing, revealing my rather clean boxers. I can already see the head of my hardened member sticking out a little between the fabric, and I remove the boxers as well, as I watch it reel out.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[15964,16233,0,0]}">The shower removes most of the filth from my body, but I didn't want it all gone. I like the feeling of being a little soiled, and a little unclean. I hope that doesn't make me a bad person, because I don't want to be a bad person. Sometimes... I feel like I am though.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[16235,16544,0,0]}">Once I leave the bathroom with my towel on, I round back into the room. The sun has mostly set now, but the way the lingering shadows are drawn across her are so gorgeous. It looks like puppets, and suddenly I can't hold it in anymore. I leap onto the bed, my towel falling to the floor on the way over to it.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[16546,17097,0,0]}">"Oh.... uh...yeah..." I barely mutter, as my penis reaches her eye socket, I penetrate quickly, my scrotum hitting the teeth jutting from her black and hardened gum line. I shudder with a orgasmic chill, but calm myself quickly. The rippling effect of her canines rubbing against my testicles is incredible, and I know I am going to fast, but I can't help it. I hold the back of her cranium to get a better mount, and switch over to the other socket. I can feel the early seminal fluid tipping making the head of my penis wet as I drive it in and out.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[17099,17716,0,0]}">I'm so close now, I slow down to edge just a little, since I know she loves it when I do that. The back of her cranium is a perfect place for any as I grip myself firmly and swirl it all around the back of the grating surface. I'm so close, but I don't want to stop now, I can't stop now. I'm past the point of no return, and I feel my face getting hot as I grunt and moan as the contents burst out in large white raindrops on the hard surface. My spine straightens in a shudder, and I massage another shot out. It drips out a little on my sheets, but it's okay. I know I pleased her too, and that's all that matters.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[17718,18250,0,0]}">"I don't want you to have any children yet..." I mutter, as I lean down and stick my tongue in the socket. I can taste some of the sweat and pleasure, and soon find the familiar taste of salt and metal, the sticky texture pulling at my tongue. I start licking up all the semen, already worried she might get pregnant. I don't want that for us yet. I swallow the first little bit, and lick the rough rippled backside completely clean. I have gotten use to the taste of my own semen, only because it is a requirement to keep us happy.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[18252,19043,0,0]}">It's later now, and we are both looking out the window at the moon. It is a half moon, my favorite kind. It's not full, which is too bright, but not too small to make it pitch black. I think it has the perfect balance. She is laying on the pillow next to me, with the covers pulled up. I can't see her teeth anymore, they are underneath the cover. Sometimes I think she is insecure about them for some reason. I don't know why she doesn't think she is a beautiful person. I think she is amazing. I reach my arm over and cuddle her next to me. Every time I touch her, I always feel warm inside. She is so sweet, and gentle. I wish we could be in this state forever. In perpetual solemn love and silence. I lean over and kiss her head one more time before sleep takes me to dreamless darkness.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[19045,19316,0,0]}">I can hear a macaw outside, and when my eyes open, I see her there with the covers still placed over her, my arm outstretched towards her. The sunlight is shining through her eyes and a few little holes on the surface of her cranium, and I think it makes her look golden.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[19318,19692,0,0]}">I sit up in bed, wondering what will happen from here. Knowing Jay is bringing his friends for a week, it gets me a little uneasy. But then I smile, knowing afterwards it will be just me and her. She is so quiet, and I think that it one of the reason I fell for her so quickly. We have only been together since last night, but it feels like it's been weeks of endless bliss.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[19694,20141,0,0]}">I pick her up with one hand, and still naked, we both go into the kitchen. I sit in her in the chair across from me, and I start telling her about how my day might possibly go. It could be bad or it could be okay. I love how she listens to all my problems with no talkback, no discouragement. I smile a warm smile, and pour her some milk in a glass. Then I think she asks me something, but it came out like a weird pulse, ringing sound in my ears,

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[20143,20201,0,0]}">"Erlend, are you going to let those girls get between us?"

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[20203,20265,0,0]}">How could she fucking think that? I love her, and no one else.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[20524,20860,0,0]}">"Honey... please. They will only be here for a week. I promise..." I beg her. I think I lost her, because she is quiet now. I feel bad, because the they wouldn't understand our love just yet. I go across the table, and pick her up carefully with both hands. She is so cold, I want to warm her. Warm her before those people intrude into our romance. But, I need to do this for my friend. Who is he bringing again... I think maybe some girl he has been seeing, her friend, and another two people? I'm not sure, the phone call happened right after I got her back. <p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[20862,21084,0,0]}">"Don't worry, I will make sure they won't find you." Still holding her, I walk down the halfway, and into my bedroom. I lay her on the bed, and crawl over to her. One more time of bliss, will be enough to hold me the week.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[21086,21191,0,0]}">God only hopes it will, and I slowly kiss the top of her head, feeling myself get excited all over again. <ac_metadata title="Macumba (A Story that my friend wrote... a long time ago)"> </ac_metadata>