Untitled Feelings: The Boy (story)

 Hello beloved Lovesick Fools !! I miss you guys so much !!! Finally got a story that is hopefully decent enough for the long wait. It will be a somewhat long story so I'm dividing it into parts. Not sure how many yet. But all should be well. Enjoy and any improvements?

 Part 1: The Boy

Love. What does such a word actually mean? Is it mutual feelings for one another? Or. Wanting someone with each and every cell in your body? Or. Knowing that the person she loves isn't you and still stupidly and readily you'll wait for that one moment where your eyes meet? Let me tell you what love is. What it really is. Love is bullshit. Love waits for when you're most unguarded and stealthily, it digs into your skin and swims into your blood stream until it becomes your blood. Until it is everywhere. Even if all along, you struggled and fought for your rational mind. Even if you don't want to; you will become Love.

She. She is someone who I always see but have hardly spoken to. She is my friend's elder sister. Someone who I haven't known for long. However, there is no other who can describe her better than I. Sometimes, when she smiles there are the slight dents of dimples and yet sometimes when upset, her small lips disappear into a thin line. That is the initial sign for you to runaway. Run and run very fast. Sometimes, when she looks as though she is bored, she is actually thinking of a place in the distance. Somewhere I cannot see. Somewhere beyond my reach.




The house was a living bomb. With each second, more and more walked through the front door. In every dark corner was a couple tangled in a web of drunken lies. In every bathroom sink or toilet was fresh vomit and lying on the ground was a poor sick fool. Why was the party thrown at my house? That was the last time I was being a pushover. My house was similar to trash yard. Those stupid mother fuckers weren't leaving until every used condom or beer bottle was chucked in the bin. I was so screwed. My parents were going to slaughter me. Fuck.

I escaped into the night for the trees' refreshing voices. I sat in the dark as lonely as an abyss. In the moonlight materialised a silent figure. She was the sky's fairy. Walking as though she was gliding, her white dress hugged her petite figure. When she stopped in front of me, I saw tears glistering down her cheeks. Her eyes stared at my own and I became lost in her hues of despair. Why did it hurt to look at her? Was silence ever that painful? Then there was a whisper as fragile as glass: Will you love me? As spontaneous as her question, she collapsed on top of me, sleeping. What the hell? What was that? I didn't get a chance to answer her question. . .Somewhere inside me was a fraction of disappointment. I didn't quite understand. I shifted slightly, so that her head rested on my shoulder. And closed my eyes.
Good night.


I woke up to the glare of the sun and nothingness. She was gone. She left nothing. Not even her name. Was she real to begin with or was she a figment of my imagination? Was I that wrecked? I dragged myself inside to analyse the war zone. I side stepped the drunken corpses and pools of undigested food. Fuck. That was the last time I listened to Jake. Fuck. Why was there a butt naked blonde on my mattress? And was that Tom sleeping underneath my bed? God. Man, why my bed? Fuck, my bed was going to reek. I pealed off the sheets and my shirt from the night before. The blonde rolled off and continued to sleep on the ground, undisturbed. Just as I chucked the pile into the washing machine, I caught a faint scent. Rain.

So....I was totally grounded. Indefinitely. Every single minute of my distant future was going to be spent on cleaning the grime off our walls and paying back mother's vases, broken piece by broken piece. Life hated me. During dinner, mother was smiling ear to ear while whispering into father's ear. Something was wrong. She shouldn't be smiling. She was up to something. I eyed the spoon as she delicately placed it onto the table. Then she dabbed her handkerchief, wiping her mouth. Finally, she spoke: William. I. Hired. You. A. Private. Tutor.

God hated me.

The next afternoon found me pacing around our lounge room while Jake played COD. Why was he so calm? How could he just play video games while I waited. Tormented. Why was I getting a private tutor? Was he a man from the depths of Dante's Inferno? Was I going to be tormented slowly but surely? Why was I getting a private tutor? Then, the doorbell rang its siren's song of doom. I grunted at Jake to open it and he did so with a smirk: Hey Sis. I opened my eyes. My tutor was Jake's older sister? Jake had an older sister? From where I hid, I heard a voice as familiar and mesmerising as a nightingale.

At our door step was her.

(To be Continued...)