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| Passion Divided by Crimson | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 8 2009, 05:59 PM (703 Views) | |
| Shado-Chan | Jun 8 2009, 05:59 PM Post #1 |
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Amber is a Puppy. Your Arugment is Invalid.
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This was a story I entered into a contest run by my library. I have no idea if I won yet, I know in August. Enjoy. ----- passion divided by crimson ----- a short story by Shado-Chan ----- Ding! Slam. Ding! Damn clock. Ding! “Ok, I'm awake! Goddamn it...” I sighed, throwing my broken (and now even more broken) alarm clock to the ground. The day's routine began. Get up. Look in mirror. Snarl at ugly reflection. Make sure long black hair is still long and black. Make sure red streak is still red. Put excessive eyeliner on jade green eyes. My namesake. Put on crimson lipstick. Make sure to avoid the lip ring. Wear all black, but red warmers today. Oh, and a red checkered skirt over my ripped jeans. Don't forget the unnecessary accessories. Army boots are the way to go. Grab book-bag, walk downstairs. Eat crappy food. Hate druggie mom, smoking her cigarette. “Mom, please don't smoke in my face. It makes the crap taste even crappier.” I muttered, wanting to spit out the stale cereal, soggy in the spoiled milk. She grunted at me, and another puff of smoke blew out her mouth. I sighed, got up, put on my black trenchcoat, my book-bag, and proceeded to leave. But then she grabbed my arm. “Jade,” She said, I knew the rest. I rolled my eyes, and rolled up the sleeve of my coat, then my shirt, revealing the cuts and scars. She looked at me, I grunted, and pulled away. “I'm not your pet.” And walked off. Go to school. Sit in class. Eat lunch alone. Go home. Do homework. Download music. Play guitar. Watch TV. Rip clothes. Have a fit. Cut self. Go to bed. Daily routine. Or so it would be. “The Great Chain of Being, remember this. We'll review.” The teacher lectured. I sat and drew. “...An order of events, God being at the top.” I looked up, and snarled. If he was “the head” of everything, then why would my life be like this? I never asked to be the daughter of a teenage mother and a crackhead college freshman. I never asked to go to my father's funeral when I was three. “And remember,” The teacher finished babbling. “The OSSLT is coming up soon.” I rolled my eyes, along with everyone else, even if said test was still months away. Grade 10 was a hellhole. But then there was a knock at the door, and he walked in. It was short in the back, but his hair was long in the front, black like mine. His bangs covered his right eye, they were blue. Eyeliner was excessively used, piercings all over his face. On his ears, left eye, and the same lip ring as mine. His clothes were like mine as well, black and ripped. He came in, earphones in his ears and music up too loud. I approved of the Sex Pistols I was hearing. My double? I thought so. “I'm new.” He simply said, his voice quiet and low. “Name?” “Dominic Walters.” “Oh! Well, you can take a seat over there.” The teacher instructed, and pointed to a seat in front of me. And so I was left to admire from afar. Throughout the rest of the class, I noticed every single thing he did. He was as quiet as he looked, but knew what to say when asked. He doodled in class, though his drawings were much better than mine. Eventually, I found myself taking notes on the guy. Infatuation, I concluded. I obviously had an attraction to him. Lunch rolled around, and I sat alone like every other miserable day. Eating my sandwich, reading my book—East of Eden. Alone. Until he sat down beside me, tray in hand and music in ear. “This seat taken?” He asked, I looked at him in confusion. How are you supposed to answer a question you've never been asked? “Um, no.” I said, my voice quiet and shy. We ate in silence. “Hey, you're in my Language class, aren't you?” He finally asked, food falling out of his mouth. I nodded, being more polite than him and keeping my food in. “Jade,” I introduced myself after I swallowed. “You're Dominic, right?” “Yeah, but just call me Dom.” He replied, and smiled what I could tell was rare. I did the same. It was nice to talk to someone for a change. His earbud fell out of his ear, and I could hear the music from it. A great song he was listening to, Two Sunsets, I think it was called. I sang along. “You like Ethan Durelle?” He asked, about to put the bud back in his ear. “Love them, I have a friend who knows the singer.” I explained. He smiled again, and I smiled too. He put the bud in my ear. “Cool.” He said, and we listened. That night, I didn't cut myself. This lasted for weeks, which eventually turned to months. Dom, my only friend, my best friend. Oh how nice it was to say that. We laughed, we sang, we smiled. We were happy. I learned he played Bass, perfect to go with my guitar. We wrote songs, played songs, sang songs. And I could swear I saw a smile from my mother every time I brought him home. My attraction was slowly growing, until it grew into what I thought was love. I saw him, and tried to hide my blush. I looked at his blue eyes and paused. I talked to him, my voice was awkward and quiet. But never did I find out if he cared for me. In time I realized I “loved” him, but he cared for someone else. She was blond, big breasted, popular. Someone who could easily use him. Jealous? You bet I was. She stole him, my friend, my Dom. And so we grew apart. For days I sat alone again, sat broken. I ate quietly, caught up on my book. He smiled, I cried. And so my “love” became an infatuation again, if it ever evolved from that. But somehow, I was determined to steal him back. It happened late after school, we had detention for doodling in class, and we were just heading out. Our lockers were nowhere near each other, another thing to add to the list that kept us apart. But fate was on our side, and we just happened to meet each other on the way out. “H-Hey,” I quietly said. “Hey.” He replied. “It's been a while, what's up?” “Not much.” “Cool.” He walked away, and I was losing my chance. Somehow, I had to gather the strength to call out to him. Somehow. And somehow it came. “Dom, wait.” I said, my voice louder than it was before. He turned around, a bit confused. “I have a question,” I announced, a blush slowly creeping on my face. “Yes?” He simply asked. “Your girlfriend, just what does she mean to you?” I asked, shocked I said the words out loud. “Um, what's this all of a sudden-” “Please, just answer it.” Tears in my eyes, I looked at him. Hoping that somehow, I would get the answers I wanted. “Um, well, she's hot...” Was all he could manage. I sighed. Men. “Fine, whatever.” I muttered. An infatuation it stayed. “But there's this one girl, I really like her, but I could never tell her that-” “Then why didn't you just say “I love you?”” I exclaimed, failing to hold back the tears. I fell to the ground, but he was there to catch me. “Maybe because I don't know what “love” actually is,” He quietly told me, sadness in his eyes. “When your dad beats you, your mom is a drunk, and you were brought up thinking you were a mistake, how are you supposed to know what “love” is?” We stared in each other's eyes. “You're not,” I quietly told him. “And I don't even know either.” “But I can say this,” He said. “I'm definitely attracted to you.” And those words made me happier than anything in the world. I smiled, and he knew. “So, is this the part where we make out?” He asked. “If we wanna be normal,” I replied. He laughed. “Just what the hell is normal anyways?” He said, and gave me a peck on the cheek. And to me, that was more meaningful than what any other kind of kiss would be. “So, you want me to come over tonight to study?” He asked, getting up. My smile showed him the answer. So all in all, it never evolved from infatuation, as people like us could never find out what “love” really was. But as he walked off, saying “See you at seven,” I had a feeling we were one step closer to finding the answer. ----- Note: The OSSALT is a literacy test we have to write in grade 10. Isn't Canada fun? Edited by Shado-Chan, Jun 8 2009, 05:59 PM.
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| Ares-Senpai | Jun 8 2009, 06:06 PM Post #2 |
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Absit Revarentia Vero
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Great story. Very deep, but a bit far-fetched, if you don't mind me saying. It really does seem like many other love stories of a loner girl falling for a new guy that's alot like her. Not to say that it's not good. It is. But part of it are just a bit overused. Sorry, I'm usually a rather harsh critic. |
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| Gwen | Jun 8 2009, 06:10 PM Post #3 |
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I did not tell half of what I saw, for I knew I would not be believed.
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I liked it aloooooooot. : D *Has original copy* |
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| Eka | Jun 8 2009, 06:11 PM Post #4 |
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"I'm a monster; on the inside as well."
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I chuckled at the subtle anime references. ![]() Anyways, this was great! Well written, and very cute. Good luck in the contest! @Gwen: =O *jealous* Edited by Eka, Jun 8 2009, 06:12 PM.
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| Shado-Chan | Jun 9 2009, 11:55 AM Post #5 |
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Amber is a Puppy. Your Arugment is Invalid.
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It's ok, I like harsh criticism. It makes me better. : D I think you kinda missed a bit of the point, though. The whole point is that they don't know what love is, and don't really "love" each other. They're attracted to each other, but it will take time for both of them to "love" each other. That's what I was hoping would make the story stand out from other love stories. ![]() @Eka: Hey, the guy's my favorite character and I needed some way of getting Dom. XD Edited by Shado-Chan, Jun 9 2009, 11:55 AM.
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| Shado-Chan | Aug 10 2009, 12:47 PM Post #6 |
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Amber is a Puppy. Your Arugment is Invalid.
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UPDATE: "Passion Divided by Crimson" has won 3rd place in the writing contest it was entered in! DISCUSS |
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| Eka | Aug 12 2009, 02:36 PM Post #7 |
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"I'm a monster; on the inside as well."
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Hey, congratulations!~ =D |
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| john12 | May 9 2012, 05:12 AM Post #8 |
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Stranger
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“Mom, please don't smoke in my face. It makes the crap taste even crappier.” I muttered, wanting to spit out the stale cereal, soggy in the spoiled milk. She grunted at me, and another puff of smoke blew out her mouth. I sighed, got up, put on my black trenchcoat, my book-bag, and proceeded to leave. But then she grabbed my arm. “Jade,” |
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mcitp , 70-680 , mcsa , 70-642 , mcts | |
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