This assignment is again from Stewart Sternberg of House of Sternberg. It's supposed to be about unrequited love from the gender perspective opposite my own. And the main character is supposed to have a handicap, imagined or otherwise. Here goes...
She's late again. This is the third time this week. I wonder what's causing the deviation in her schedule. I have been keeping track for months and this is the first time she's been this far off.
I feel a little panicked. I shouldn't have gone off my meds, but I can't focus when I'm medicated. I need to be able to concentrate. I need......
My mind has wandered again. That scares me. I stopped taking the clozapine so I could C O N C E N T R A T E.
I breath deeply, in and out my nose, in and out. I can feel the oxygen clearing my mind, giving me life, giving me direction.
God, she's beautiful. Beeeuuutiifuuuuullll. She's wearing black today. I like her in pink better. Pastels set off her eyes. I think about the colors I've seen her in. I lose myself in a kaleidoscope of colors, imagining each one on her skin. I can almost see yellow swirls forming in the shiny surface of her shoes. That’s better, a little color to brighten things up.
I follow her as she leaves her apartment. She’s off schedule by seven minutes, I counted off each second as I waited for her front door to open. She doesn’t look in my direction, but then, she never does. She’s focused on where she’s going as always. I carefully count off fifteen steps before I follow. I don’t like to be closer, I’m not ready for our auras to touch.
She passes the coffee shop. She doesn’t stop. Why doesn’t she stop? She always stops. I can feel the panic welling up in me. I can’t take this much deviation in schedule. It scares me. Why is she not going in? I stand in front of the coffee shop, indecisive. I want to go in. I need to go in. I need to see her order a mocha latte. She’s walking away, she’s walking down the sidewalk but I can’t seem to move.
A man jostles me as he tries to get past me.
“Shit man, you’re blocking the door...”
I stumble forward a step. This is good. It moves me toward her. It was meant to be. I turn to thank the man for helping me, but he’s gone. Tears spring to my eyes, where’d he go? I need to thank him before I can follow her.
“THANK YOU!” I yell. I hope he hears it, I can’t stop to make sure. I have to go, she’s almost twenty feet away from me now and I need to hurry if I want to make sure she stays within the fifteen foot distance I am comfortable with.
Okay, I know she has to be at work. I speed my steps up. I alternate between watching the ground for cracks and looking at her back. I noticed a long time ago that she doesn’t step on the cracks either. That’s how I know she understands me. She doesn’t want to fall through either, she knows the darkness that waits underneath.
I catch up. I feel better. Things are back to normal. I count her steps, yes, fifteen steps apart. Okay.
She passes the front door of her office and keeps going.
Blind rage fills me. What is she doing? Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
I start to run, fourteen feet, ten, eight, six....I’ve never been this close to her before. But I have to get her back to her office. She needs to go back. The world will fly apart if she doesn’t go back.
I’m yelling now.
“Back! Back! You must go back!.”
She stops and turns around. She looks at me. She looks confused. She’s lost and I have to help her go back. I reach her and grab her arm.
“BACK!”
“Let go of me!” she yells.
“BACK!”
“Get off me!”
“BACK!”
I feel arms on me, pulling me off of her. But she stops moving. That’s good. Now if I can just get her to understand that she needs to go back.
“BACK!” I yell again. My eyes appeal to her but I don’t know if she understands. I try to show her, but my arms won’t move. I look down and see hands holding me.
“Back” I start to cry.
“Back” I whimper as I am taken away from her.
18 comments:
I like the fact you wrote this in the present tense... give a sense of immediacy to something I think a bit beyond unrequited love and into the realm of obsession, which I liked... thankfully, I haven't known too many men that would do that.
I thought about the obsession aspect after I wrote it. That's was last times assignment. I'm late I guess.
And for some reason I keep using the first person perspective on these short assignments. I don't always do that, but for some reason I feel compelled to do that when it calls for immediacy.
I think I'm going to force myself to write in the third person next time, just because.
Certainly nothing wrong with it, but I do understand wanting to experiment in styles (I do it all the time in poetry), though I have to admit, my best stories tend to be in a first person (usually past as opposed to present) perspective.
Very good sense of what this person needs for order and routine.....all that need of control without anything BAD behind it.
Dang I wish I had done this assignment..being sick threw me right off.
I've always found first person narration the most difficult to write, especially if the perspective is from the opposite sex. In this case, you do a fine job of pulling it off. Your narrator seems to have OCD. If it were my story (and I wish it were) I'd probably vary it--how about Turret's?
JR, by all means, play with it and tweak it any way you wish.
I didn't have a plan when I started writing other than he was going to be obsessed with the object of his desire. The rest just kind of came.
In my bad writing piece I used a stutter, so I wanted to stay away from verbal handicaps just so I wouldn't repeat myself. Though tourettes could be interesting to play with, especially in an unrequited love situation.
That's a very real, and very emotion-generating portrayal of autism and/or Asperger's - I suspect you have had some considerable experience to paint the picture so well.
Thanks for a very powerful piece of writing - especially the way the narrator's panic and urgency are transferred and taken up by the reader. I'm still a bit shaky, and feel very sad, for some reason.
As always, SQT, I am impressed by your writing ability. You were able to show us the manifestations of the disorder through the character rather than telling us about it. This, I know, can be quite difficult when you are dealing with an emotional/mental handicap.
Once again, great pacing. Your writings always feel like some type of ride you give your reader. Wonderful!
Okay,SQT, this is why I am glad you aren't a guy.
This is a taut piece which starts with a persistent hum and escalates into a steady, piercing whine. This is a good thing.
I liked this. I think the first person perspective works. Sometimes I go through binges of writing in this tense, and sometimes I turn back to old familiar third.
Donkeyblog- I'm glad that you felt the emotion of the piece, though I feel kind of bad that you left feeling sad.
Susan- Thanks for the compliments. I do think that because these pieces are short, I try to pack as much of an emotional punch as I can; apparently it's working.
Stewart- Are you saying I'm obsessive? Or just plain scary?
Whoa! I really liked this a LOT.
The intensity kept building throughout the story and you just knew there was a crash coming.
I love the obsessive fixation on minute details, counting steps, avoiding the cracks, the details about what she wears and drinks.
And then the sheer panic when things don't go they way they're supposed to. The point of view felt totally authentic.
EXCELLENT JOB.
I loved this story! Very tight and captivating, it kept escelating and escelating! I really felt for this charater. Wonderful work!
sqt, do not let stewart control you. he is the michigan man of mystery. it says so on my blog link. actually, he is a very good writer and you will learn from him. i wish i could see him in print.
OK, that last post was sent from my job as I have no real internet access. Sqt, (there is a drink called Squirt that my sister once named a collie after, but I digress), I agree with those who liked your narrative and obsessive tone. Very nicely done.
Thanks Wayne.
My name actually came from another blog where I went by SactoQt for awhile since I live in the Sacramento area. I shortened it to Sqt and now everyone thinks I'm squirt. Oh well.
i have had cerebral palsy since birth, sqt. one reason i've cut a groove with my readership is that many of my stories involve people with handicaps. i should have been more attentive to stewart's blog. if you'd like, i can send you "the penultimate body modification." the best piece that involves pain obsession. let me know. still at work, having burned my hand on soup, fer cry-eye, wayne
Pain obsession huh? Sounds interesting.
I'm sorry to hear that you have cerebral palsy. I don't know much about it, isn't that what Stephen Hawkings has?
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