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First Short Story I've Written in Five years...

Cynder

By Cynder
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Cynder Grand Master

Cynder

Posted
Posted

About a week ago I got this little idea in my head and expect this to be a couple paragraphs of petic jibberish... But what came out of it was an actual story. People who know me well on here may have already seen it. But for those who hanve't, I thought I would share.

 

This is only a first draft... I think there might be some grammar errors still, so sorry about that.

 

She slept beside me... the diesel engine roaring beneath us. Her head was leaned back, face tilted ever so slightly toward me, one hand resting flat on the shirt I bought her... "You didn't have to do that." she said when I handed it to her. I turned the radio down... The Rolling Stones had been singing Paint It Black just seconds earlier... and now there was only silence.

 

Neil Peart's drum solo made me wish I'd done more with my life... I wished a lot of things... One thing was that I would have pursued her when I had the chance. That was so long ago, nearly a decade. And here we were now, alone in my truck, driving down the highway in darkness.

 

I glanced at her again... She looked, in some ways, like a sleeping child. Long tendrils of hair blew softly around her face, brushing her lips and closed eyes. My own long hair in my face annoyed me, but hers I found fascinating... it blew around her almost like smoke... The light made her skin look whiter than paper... and her lips appeared almost purple. She moved a little and my eyes suddenly were back on the road.

 

I would need to stop soon, the fuel was getting low... Three exits ahead there would be a gas station.

 

Slowly the inevitable happened... My eyes found their way back to her face. I wondered if she would notice if I touched her just once. I wrestled the idea in my head. What if she opened her eyes and caught me? Would she be embarrassed? Infuriated? Or maybe even intrigued...? I had a feeling she would wake up at the gas station. It had to be now or never.

 

I slowly extended my hand, careful not to make too sudden a movement. There was a growing sense of anticipation in the second before I grazed her cheek with the tip of my index finger, and then again with the knuckle... Strands of her hair grabbed at my hand like tentacles in some Lovecraftian horror tale. Her skin was like warm, soft marble. Oh, was it hard to pull my hand away. I wanted to pull off to the side of the road and hit the brakes... and then tell her everything.

 

I could see the gas station off in the distance, getting larger with every second. I slowed down to pull in, out of consideration for her. My efforts went in vain... The truck suddenly jerked and bounced over a bump, and laughter filled the air, the kind of high pitched, feminine laughter that could either be cute or annoying depending on the situation. At that particular moment, it was cute.

 

I had seen this happen before... One other time she was startled awake and reacted with laughter.

"You alright?" I asked, smiling at her.

 

"Oh... yea I was just..." she giggled a little more, "I was just dreaming something really strange."

 

"In a good way or a bad way?"

 

"Neither... just in a weird way." the last of the laughter made it's way out of her... What was a dam bursting forth was now only a trickle. "You were there." She added.

 

"I was ?"

 

"Yea... in my dream." She brushed long strands of hair from her face... the same strands of hair that had been grabbing at my hand just moments ago.

 

"I hope it wasn't a bad dream." I said, turning off the engine. My truck felt so small next to the three semis that were parked there. I heard the metallic clink of her undoing her seatbelt, followed by the door opening. "I'll be right back, I have to piss."

 

For a second I considered telling her to be careful. You never know who could be lurking behind those semi trailers. I stopped myself... She’s an adult.

 

I stood alone... gas pump in one hand... I remembered her face, twisted in agony just two weeks ago, when she got the news. I heard the crunching sound of gravel under tires, and her car barreled up the driveway... The slamming door and the rattle of keys, fallowed by panicked feet on the hard wood floor. I met her in the kitchen doorway, she spun around to face me, her hazel eyes bright with tears... “Where is he?” she asked...

 

I felt like ice water had been poured down my throat... I told her what hospital they took him to.

 

And just as quick as she came in, she was gone.

 

“Hey!” a deep male voice jerked me from the memory and back to reality. He was walking frantically toward me. “Hey Bud.” he addressed me once again.

 

I looked up but didn’t say anything.

 

“‘Scuse me. I’m trying to get home to Cincinnati and I don’t have any money. Do you have any spare change?” He slurred.

 

I handed him a dollar. He stumbled a little while taking it, and I caught a faint odor of Whiskey.

 

“Oh, thank you sir. Jesus Loves you.”

 

I nodded and told him “You’re welcome.” while silently wondering what Jesus thought of people who lie about being stranded in strange cities, just to get money to buy booze.

 

Even at well after midnight, it was still so hot. I swiped my card at the pump, and became aware suddenly, of my own thirst. I made my way tiredly around the semis, toward the bright yellow and red store front. She was coming out right as I reached the door. “I need some water. Do you want anything?”

 

“I think I could use a water too.” she said, digging in her pockets.

 

I put out my hand in a kind of ‘stop that’ gesture. “I got it.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.” I said, and touched her hand. Our hands lingered in that position for less than a second. But I took the feeling of that skin with me as she walked off toward the truck.

 

The memory of that day fought it’s way back into my head as I wandered under those fluorescent lights.

 

I still could see the image, as plain as day, in my mind, of her in the driveway, face buried in the starting wheel, body heaving with sobs. I knew she needed to let it out. But at the same time I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked to the car and knocked on the window. She looked up at me through the glass and wiped her bloodshot eyes. Neither of us said a word. She seemed to be moving in slow motion while getting out of the car. And she felt so helpless when I took her in my arms.

 

Since then, she spent almost every spare minute at the hospital. Tonight was her first escape since then. She told me she was putting the tickets up on ebay because she didn’t want to go without him. But he insisted on her going, even if it was with me.

 

There were only a few moments during the concert that he wasn’t lingering in the back of my mind, one of them being Neil’s drum solo. And at the beginning of the 2112 Overture, when she screamed with excitement and grabbed me by the arm. A shot of electricity went through my entire body, and all I could think about was kissing her. I didn’t think of him then either.

There was wrong... then there was wrong... then there was this.

 

Walking out the door, two cold water bottles in my hands, I suddenly felt a vague echo of shame.

 

As I approached the truck, I heard a familiar voice, a drunk slurring voice, attempting to be suave. “So, you like coming here to hang out with the truckers?”

 

“That’s not why I’m here.” I heard her say nervously as I walked around the corner. She stood up against the truck, arms folded, looking down at the ground. And there was that drunk, standing over her with a hungry, horrifying look in his wild eyes.

 

“Hey.” I called to him, “Get the hell away from her.”

 

“I wasn’t doing nothing!” he defended.

 

“Go spend your dollar and leave us alone.” I warned him.

 

He cowered and slunk away.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Yea... He just scared me, that’s all. The truck doors were locked. He came out of nowhere.”

 

“I’m sorry... I didn’t think to unlock the doors.” I unlocked the passenger side door with the keys and brushed my hand accross her back as she climbed up inside.

 

“I wonder if he thought I was a truck stop hooker?” She said when we were back on the highway.

 

“Why would he think that?”

 

“I don’t know... because he was drunk.” She gave a little laugh “Not like he could have afforded me if I was.”

 

“What was he going to pay you with? The dollar I gave him?”

 

We both laughed briefly, and then were silent for a long time after.

 

Suddenly she said, “Did you think about him tonight?”

 

“Yea... Almost the whole time we were there.”

 

“Me too.” I saw one single tear on her cheek, captured and lit up by the moonlight.

 

“It’ll be alright.” I assured her. But I had no way of knowing.

 

Twenty minutes passed before she was asleep again. She stirred in her sleep and curled herself up on the seat. The position looked uncomfortable, but she was too exhausted to care. And her head found it’s way onto my shoulder. I looked down at that face... the eyelashes so long they almost looked un natural. I kept one hand on the wheel, and put the other arm around her, brushing a wisp of hair out of her eyes. She gave a small sigh, and stirred a little. Her hair smelled vaguely like cinnamon.

 

I kissed her forehead and cradled her against me, rubbing the top of her head. I wondered what strange dreams she was having, and if I was in them with her.

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