Annie Writes Untitled Stories
This is an attempt to weave a story created from imagination. All characters and settings are fiction and resemblance to real people and places are unintentional.
PART I
“Why are you so nice to her? She’s a cold bitch!”
Yeah, she’s distant. But he knows better.
She’s the outcast, the weird one with no friends. She eats alone, studies alone, walks alone. She stays away from people and no effort to fit in nor seem interested to do so. In fact, she’s not doing anything just to be liked by anyone else. She’s the quiet one. She doesn’t do small talks.
She’s not the type who’s quiet but aces all the tests. Nope. She barely passes her subjects. She’s not the smartest of the lot. But that’s not the most disappointing feature of this lonesome girl. She’s also not the bullied type. She has her chin up and stares back at you when you glare. She looks directly into your eyes. But what is she really?
It was one summer day when he saw her by the bench under the acacia tree, alone as usual and her nose buried on a book.
He approached quietly, cautious but determined to talk to her. He sat down slowly, waiting for her retort. No reaction. She didn’t even spare a glance or throw a menacing look his away. He wondered if she even noticed him. What book is she reading, he wondered. But he can only see the side of her face, her back slightly turned from him.
He was about to clear his throat when something stunned him. He saw it, It glistened in the light. The first drop was quite slow but surely it made a faint sound when it hit the paper. Then here comes another. He couldn’t help but notice and worry about her, The page is almost already soaked.
He decided to give a light tap her shoulder and try to comfort her when she abruptly turned, finally noticing him. He saw the horror on her face. Her cheeks turned crimson then her eyes slowly turned into two slits of fireball he could almost feel the heat. He was as surprised as her. His hand was suspended in the air.
She abruptly stood up, wiped her tears and marched away from him, the open book on her hand which is on her side now. Regaining his composure, he couldn’t help but notice the book. His curiosity to know what it was was revived. He got a glimpse the page she’s on. It was blank. No letters. Nothing. Not even the word “End”. It was as immaculate as a newly opened stack of bond paper.
Why the hell was she crying?!What was that all about?
He watched her back as she sauntered away, her back as straight as usual. Her eyes must have been red and puffy as the two girls looked at her puzzled ,but she didn’t bother hide it. Then the two girls saw him and he could almost hear their gasp as they recognized him. They then hurried, whispering to each other. He’s the bit least interested in what they were thinking about.
He is the ace of the basketball team. Awarded the Rookie of the year the first time he played, now the Captain. Girls fight for his attention. A simple glance on their way is enough to keep a teenage girl blushing. He is an Ace, a good catch and he knows it. But he didn’t care. So seeing him with the weird girl created quite a buzz. Other students discretely look at him when he passes by them. Hushed conversations follows his wake. But no one dared ask.
The next day, he saw her at the opposite end of the hallway. Their eyes met he knows. Before he noticed it, her lips cracked into a smile. They were walking towards each other, his steps purposeful. The entire level hushed, as if movements turned into slow motion as the distance between them becomes shorter. Her hair is moving with the wind, creating a summery silhouette of a girl in a shampoo commercial, her skirts billowing. Three. Two. One. They were face to face. He stopped and looked straight into her. He opened her lips to say something when he felt the wind by his face. She walked past him, not even giving any slight recognition nor notice, as if she walked in an empty hall. A gasp of disbelief from someone can be heard. The weird one ignored him! His face grew hot.
But more than the embarrassment, he felt something else, something more compelling, something indescribable. Are those goosebumps on his arm? It’s as if he encountered not a person, but something else, something dark and sinister.
