literature

The guilty walk free

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ToshaDaydreamer's avatar
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Literature Text

                          Together

"The hardest part is letting go."

He scowled at her.

"Stop sulking, you know it's true."

"I'm not sulking, I've just heard this too many times from you."

The expression in her eyes didn't change.

"Apparently not often enough, for you are still holding on like it's your fucking child. No, that's not true. I have seen parents letting their children go. YOU hold on like it's one of your vital organs."

"I'll have you know I'm a registered organ donor."

"Do you think this is a fucking joke? God, you are driving me insane. How about this: if you can't find a way to deal with this, I'm out of here. For good."

She slammed the door shut, leaving him sitting on the bed looking slightly amused . His amusement faded as he heard her slamming the front door even harder. Sighing, he got up and walked downstairs to do the dishes.


                          The woman

She didn't go far. She couldn't. Well, she could, but she would probably kill someone along the way. Driving while being angry was a worse combination than drinking and driving. There probably should be a law against angry driving as well. Meh, whatever, she was too pissed off to think about that.

She parked her car a few blocks away from the house and started walking nowhere.
How could he be so blind? It was so obvious that it still bothered him. It had used to haunt her too, but she had found solace in meditation. She had suggested he join her, but he had refused, saying he would deal with this his own way.

This was slowly devouring their relationship, until nothing would be left but bones and ashes and sorrow and blood and tears and pain and regret, just like… She shook her head. "I'm not going there anymore", she said to herself. "I'm finished with that, and it's finished with me." She kicked against a pebble and watched it bounce away. Like her thoughts. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she hastily blinked them away.


                          The man

The dishes were done much quicker than he had anticipated. He sighed again. He hated having nothing to do – it made him restless. He didn't worry about her, she would come home when she was done ranting. She had no where else to go anyway.

His mood darkened. Always that same fight. He had thought their lives would get easier after they had made that decision. More joyful, less complicated, more carefree. It had, for him. If only he could enjoy it. He would have been happy if she was, but she obviously wasn't. That sunny smile he loved so much had begun to fade. Her eyes didn't sparkle anymore. She said her meditation excercises helped her to keep calm, but she looked even more haunted after one of those sessions.

And still she kept pointing her goddamn finger at him. HE was the one who could not let go. HE was the one who looked tired and worn. HE was the one who could not laugh anymore. What did she expect when the source of all his joy had become a dark pool of misery? His eyes brimmed with tears, but he hastily blinked them away.

                          Together

She came home late, closing the door as softly as she could to avoid notice. Of course he would know she was home, he seemed to have a sixth sense for that. Must be a father thing. She steeled herself, and walked into the livingroom to confront him. He looked at her with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

For a long time, neither of them spoke, both unwilling to break the silence that hung between them like an iron curtain.

"You look tired", she finally said. He arched an eyebrow, but kept his silence. Her eyes filled with tears again, and he felt his heart writhe. Despite everything, he still loved her. But he didn't reach out to comfort her, and she didn't reach out to him.

The sound of their chasm widening was deafening and silent, painful and soothing. It drowned out the sound of their shackles. It drowned out the sound of their hearts.

                          Alone
I have written this for the :iconlive-love-write: prompt.

This was probably the hardest story I have written so far. I had to re-read, edit, delete and rewrite so many sentences, I doubt anything from the original outline is still standing.

I wanted to keep their past vague - what had they done to earn this guilt? I still don't know - but it's not important for this story.

I wanted to keep their relationship vague. Are they friends? Lovers? Father and daughter? Don't know that either.

And I wanted to portrey the same story, from totally different points of view - yet still connection by their frustration toward each other.

Having all that, and keeping the emotion real and keep the storyline flowing, was what kept me editing so much. I kept editing until I felt that familiar "click" I get every time I finish a story.

However, because I had to edit so much, it's also the story I'm still a bit uncertain about. Was I being TOO vague? Is my intention clear? Are there any grammatical abberations I have missed?
© 2011 - 2024 ToshaDaydreamer
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RollingTomorrow's avatar
Thank you for participating in our prompt at #Live-Love-Write! :la:

Short but very expressive! :nod: You did a very good job of making the most out of every scene and every line. The vagueness was well handled, though it did hint toward a bit too vague in some places.

Nevertheless, this was still interesting to read! :la:


=TheFinalHikari
Founder of #Writers--club, #LandoftheSky, and #Live-Love-Write