I'm Not There [[updated 8/7]]
ZanarkandFayth:
Quote from: erica_jean698;1328334
Interesting beginning. I like the creative touch of the pictures of the two of them in the background. That was a nice touch.
*le gasp* I was wondering if anyone would catch that. I need a new picture though, since I changed the blonde one's hair... >< Darn my indecision...
ZanarkandFayth:
Chapter One
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The last few lullaby-like notes fell over the silence of the bar. They escaped my fingers slowly through a haze of smoke and alcohol, giving a heartbreaking sound to the song. Nothing but a small clap went through the tavern and the tinkling of glass on glass. I stood quickly from the piano and gathered my spoils, the tips of drunkards mistaking anything from the piano as some masterpiece.
Pushing past the nearly lifeless bodies and swinging around card tables, I made my way to the front of the bar. Old Man Harrow, who had owned the bar for years, shook my hand tightly. Besides the occasional football or baseball match on the TV, I was the only means of entertainment for these long nights.
"See you tomorrow, Cain?" he asked, though the question was, in all, a worthless one. I had no where else to be.
"Of course," was all I said and I dropped his hand and made my way out into the cool autumn night.
Still, so many people walked along the main strip, looking over their shoulders and talking in whispered voices, never going too far from one another. Everything on that street was ancient, part of the landscape, forever rooted there. Some of these things were, in fact, people.
Small, broken girls or boys who stood under streetlamps or sat on the stoop of cheap motels, whistling at passersby. It was their job, though the term was used very loosely, even by them. Many of them knew me, some by name, and would call out to me, asking me for company or, more bluntly, a quickie in the top room of the hotel behind them. Every time, I would decline, and they would just as quickly pick up someone new, someone who would take them, looking over their shoulder suspiciously, carefully.
Every street light, every stoop, was decorated in these living landscapes. In my own satisfaction, I had memorized the faces of all of them. One lamp, where I’d always less than noticed a young black haired boy, was devoid of its occupant. A few of those who surrounded the boy’s normal place, would look into a small alleyway with sympathetic looks.
I did as well, and there he sat. His face, soft and too young for his “job”, was covered in cuts and bruises. For a moment, I nearly called the police, or an ambulance even. But if a police cruiser were to come down this street, every girl and boy alike would run for some sort of shelter.
He barely looked at me, his black eyes dull behind a pair of busted wayfarers, when I saw he still smiled, if not ruefully. Walking to him, he never protested to my touch. Instead, he wrapped his scrawny arms around my neck as I slid one arm under his knees, the other slipped under his back. The only sound he made was a quiet sort of breathing and a relieved sigh.
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((more pictures once I get back off my game))
Medagic:
Ooh this is very good so far! Can't wait to read more!
Devomuffins:
Wow. This is great, i'm really hooked. your writing style is fantastic.
ZanarkandFayth:
*glomps Medagic and egghugger* Yay... There should be more soon (hopefully). It's so hard to get Cain and Laurie (black haired boy) to do what I want them to. >< It's cute, cause they'll start hugging and stuff, but it'll be right in the middle of a shot... XD
Thanks about the writing style thing. XP Cain's really the one talking, I'm just being his ghost writer. Besides, I read too much Neil Gaiman. I almost have to write like that. :toothy8:
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