Loneliness

            There was once a girl who was shy and quiet. She dressed conservatively in baggy clothing, as if to hide her self from the public eye. She was a girl who was slightly cynical and very worrisome. This girl had habit of analyzing people’s personalities and picking out things that she didn’t like about them. She would build a façade around her dark character to make friends, but carelessly drop it when too caught up in a conversation. And eventually, those friends would walk away from her and never come back. She’d always wondered what it was. Why couldn’t she have a best friend, or somebody that had her same interests and thoughts? She could pick out the people in the crowd that were like that— two doppelgangers of each other.  Oh, how she’d wished to have someone like that.

            One day, the girl discovered something. She’d been having a heated discussion with a boy about school. And she realized that this boy was easier to get a long with than her other friends. So she became his friend, and he, hers. And she thought, maybe if she’d expand her limits of friendship, she’d be happier. So she tried to do just that. And tried. And kept trying. Eventually, it got the point where she had her own kingdom of friends. Yet, at the same time, she’d built a wall around her heart, so as to bulwark any emotions that could hurt her. This girl was so focused on making friends that she’d forgotten exactly why she’d made them. And so, this girl grew to lack emotions.

            In all honesty, the girl had only made friends to feel a bit more like she belonged. She’d had no ulterior motive or specifically cruel reason behind her actions. However, these friends didn’t realize that. And so, like her companions before, they walked away and never came back.

            So the girl cried. She cried a river tears that became an ocean that would eventually drown her. But one day, a boy walked up to her while she was crying in the park across the street. He asked her why she was crying. And she realized that this boy was the same boy as the one she’d befriended so many years before. She told herself that she could trust him. And so she told him her story.

            He didn’t believe her.

            She drowned in her ocean of tears.

Short Story

Michael made a mad dash for finish line, jumping the last hurdle in the process. He felt the strength in his legs and the heard familiar sound of the crowd cheering. Just in time, Michael thought, as he peeked over his shoulder to check out his competition. Looking back at who would finish second, he raised his arms in the air and smiled.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Joshua woke to the desolate cold air in his house and the midnight creak of the floor boards. He shook the sweat from his hair, trying to do the same to the reoccurring dream spinning cobwebs in his mind. Joshua didn't like dreams about his brother, who'd now gone off to college on a scholarship. Still, though, he couldn't help but wonder if that was really what Michael felt when he finished first in his races.

Running his hands through his hair and trying to forget about his brother, Joshua slunk down the stairs to grab a midnight snack. He turned on the lights, looked through the mail, and sipped a glass of orange juice, munching away at a brown-spotted banana.

Joshua picked up a large envelope and looked through the contents, too tired to realize what it was. He read the words at the top of the page aloud. "... Accepted on an academic scholarship." He stood in a chilly silence. He blinked. He took a step. Another step. Joshua slowly approached the staircase and began climb it. He took a left turn, opened the familiar stained door, and entered Michael's room.

Joshua made a 360 degree turn and kept turning until his eye caught his brother's trophy case. Medals. Gold, silver, gold, gold, silver, gold. Awards. Certificates. Accomplishments. All for nothing.

Joshua went back to bed. He slept silently and dreamed of Michael's fall from fame to a hospital bed. That night, Joshua cried.