I got bored and started writing one day. I won’t post it all now, but if people ask for more I will post more.
I was born August 24th, 1987.
So there I stood. Looking at their big expensive wooden door with a brass
knob. Locked. Like these people live in the kind of neighborhood where
somebody was going to walk in and start stealing their overly expensive
dishes and clothes. 216 South 19th Street. In case you were wondering. Shes
in there this time… right? The car is in the driveway so somebody has to
be here. 6:43 PM. The accents of the door literally glow in the sun. I
apologize in advance to whoever put their heart and soul into crafting this
door. The wood was stained perfectly. The windows in the top… elegant. The
door knob was the perfect shape and size. It pushed open into the house. The
lock worked perfectly. I’m sorry to whoever. Taking a step back off of the
"welcome" mat I cast one more glance back towards the street and
My heel caught the door perfectly and it was sent flying into the house. I
retract my apology. The door was a disappointment. The screws tore from the
wall and split the molding. I guess the door did hold up and the door itself
can’t be blamed for the poor quality of the wood and or screws that held it
in place. I retract my retraction. The sound echoed into a house that was
much too big for the owners and their seemingly random mix match of
furniture. Nothing hung on the walls. Not even a clock. Who the fuck doesn’t
have a clock? These people are monsters. There was no sound from the house.
No scream. No “What the fuck was that?” no nothing. Maybe they had two cars?
I stood in the door way. Waiting. I looked ahead of me up the stairs, to the
right into the dining room, to the left into the living room, ahead down a
This house is silent.
And its deafening.
She has to be in this fucking house. This is starting to get ridiculous.
Stepping over the door I walked up the stairs. Looking for her a room. A
room. Some person in this fucking house. There was a hallway at the top of
the stairs and five doors. Five. Who the fuck needs five rooms upstairs? A
bathroom, two bedrooms, and I’m hoping one door is a closet because thats
just too much for one family already. I know one is a guest room. It pisses
me off. Nobody has ever stayed in that room and the entire neighborhood
knows it. Two bed rooms, a guest room, a bathroom, and a closet. What the
fuck is that fifth room? The room at the end of the hall. Mom and Dad
obviously. The door is open and they aren’t home. The bathroom door is open
and the light is on, but its empty. These people have the money to leave
lights on. The guest room looks and smells like a motel room. The curtains match the
bed spread. There is a small TV that has never been turned on sitting on an
empty dresser. The closet door is exactly that, a closet. Thank God.
The next door I try… locked. The door is blank and white just like the
walls. Fuck it.
The last door.
The other end of the hall.
White like the rest. Though this door… it was breathing. She was in there.
I walked up to it as quiet as I could. Not that it mattered… I just kicked
their door off the hinges. I touched the door knob and it shocked me. Static
electricity. Shes tricky! I slowly turned the knob and eased the door open.
I was nearly knocked on my ass by the color of the room. Bright green. Green
curtains. Green bean bag chair. Green dresser, trunk, closet door, book
case, and green fucking ceiling. I stood in the door way taking it all in.
It was so bright I almost had to wear ear plugs. There was a bed in the
room. With green blankets and three pillows. Two were green. One was blue.
It seemed so out of place. There was a girl laying in the bed.
Short brown and blond hair. Her eyes were closed but I knew what color they
were already. Brown. Her skin looked like silk. She was probably 5 foot 3.
Maybe. Could be taller or shorter. Does it matter? She wore a low cut black
and white stripped shirt. Long sleeves. Tight jeans with the holes already
in the knees. She was wearing headphones that snaked across the bed into an
MP3 player. It looked nice. Big screen and all that. It was so loud I could
hear it from the door way. Was she sleeping? I was frozen in place. Scared
of what might happen next. I took a step into the room. My god this carpet
was amazing. She layed still. I took another few steps. I was close enough
now to see that her lips were slowly moving. Dreaming? No she was awake! She
was singing along in her head. My stomach tied itself in knots and strangled
She must have heard it.
She turned and looked at me.
I couldn’t believe it…
She sat up slow and stretched. Hit pause on her song and took off the
headphones. She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes. She looked so…
just… I don’t know what to say. Calm? For waking up to some stranger
standing in your room. She looked directly into my eyes. It almost hurt.
“So you don’t talk or what?”
“Who are you anyway?”
We just stared. She still looked so calm.
“You what? How did you get in here?”
“The door was open?”
I didn’t know what to say. Her eyes were green. My stomach died. My heart
beat out of my chest. My lungs refused air. My muscles froze. The hair on
the back of my neck stood up. I blinked. She didn’t. I took my gaze away
from hers and stared at the floor. All I wanted to do was cry. Green eyes. I
haven’t wasted this much time have I? This is taking so long… and its
“Are you okay, Guy?”
“My name isn’t Guy.”
“So what is your name?”
Why is she so calm? Why can’t I look at her anymore?
“My name is uh… its uh…”
“You do know your name right?”
“Yeah yeah… I do. Its just…”
“I think you’re a liar.”
Okay so my name isn’t Ryan. I just don’t remember it this time… I’m sure I
have a name.
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not.”
I swear I stood in her room for years having this conversation. She just sat
there the whole time… and she never broke her stare.
“You have green eyes.”
“Yeah… so do you.”
“Why can’t they be brown?”
“No, yours. Why can’t your eyes be brown?”
“Well… why can’t yours?”
“Mine don’t need to be.”
Thats the best I could come up with. They don’t need to be. I just kept
staring at the floor. What the hell am I supposed to do now? Her eyes are
fucking green! Green! Gee are ee ee in! When I saw her yesterday I swear
they were brown. Maybe it wasn’t yesterday. Last year? Last month? Ten?
Twenty? Thirty years ago? A hundred years ago? When did I see her? Why the
fuck are their eyes ALWAYS fucking green?
“Sorry for what?”
“I don’t know. You look like you’re going to cry.”
“Oh. Its not your fault.”
“So… are you going to tell me who you are and why you’re here?”
“I don’t know.”
“If you’re going to tell me?”
“Why I’m here.”
I stood for years. Tens of thousands of years. I still could not look
at her. I just stared at the green carpet. It was so perfect, like nobody had ever walked on it before. Every single fiber was upright and proud. Possibly too proud. I glanced around the room trying as hard as I could not to catch her eyes. Her closet door was shut, so was every dresser drawer. No dirty clothes on the floor or even in the room. Everything was put away neat and perfectly. There wasn’t a single shred of garbage in the room, and nothing was out of place. Who has that kind of time? I looked back down at the carpet.
I just want to find her and she isn’t here. Where do I go now? What
do I do? I’ve been searching for millions and millions of years it seems. I
guess I should start over?
This girl is not who I am looking for.
“Why do you have to make this difficult?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why can’t you just have brown eyes?”
“I don’t get it.”
“Yeah… you wont.”
I reached into my pocket. I pulled out a buck knife with a three inch blade.
I unfolded it. I drove it into my neck and drug it as far as I could before I passed out.
I ruined her carpet.
I was born September 12, 1988.
My stereo was blaring as I drove to the mall. So loud I couldn’t even hear the car running. I guess this as good of a time as any to explain what is going on. Though I’m not turning the music down.
Ten, twenty, for all I know a hundred years ago I met her. I don’t mean just any her, I mean I met her. I was walking through downtown on my lunch break. The place I was heading to was about a block from my work. Maybe more. How much is a block anyway? Anyway, so I was walking down the sidewalk and down the street this girl rounds the corner with a dog. It was a little Corgi. She was about… 5 foot 3. Maybe. Could be taller or shorter. All I know was that I was taller than her. Skinny. 105 lbs at the most. She was wearing a beanie hat. I don’t really remember what color it was. Her short brown hair went perfectly with the hat. She had a long necklace though I couldn’t see the end of it because it was down her shirt. Her shirt… I forget. She was wearing one though. She wore thick rimmed glasses. They were that black-ish color. You know, the glasses that are sort of a transparent maroon color in the sun. She had some tight jeans on and a pair of flats. Oh right, and the dog was on a red leash. I remember that much. When she walked towards me she just sort of looked at the ground when she walked. She was avoiding those black spots on the sidewalk and the cracks in between.
When she got closer to me.
The dog ran up and danced in front of me to pet him. Her?
I knelt down and started to scratch the little guy (girl?) behind the ears.
“I think he(she?) likes you!”
I was hit so hard I lost my breath.
You should have been there to hear her voice.
If I had the words to describe it to you I would.
I looked up.
She looked down.
Our eyes met.
I couldn’t look away. So I just kept on looking, waiting for her to speak again. I wanted to try to count her freckles but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from hers.
“His name is Albert(Ally?) by the way.”
“Well Albert(Ally?) is just adorable isn’t he(she?)”
I was talking more to the dog than her. I could still barely speak.
“And my name is _______.”
I don’t remember her name. Maybe she never told me.
“Nice to meet you, I’m ______.”
I don’t remember mine either. Maybe I never told her.
I guess its sort of a lame story you know? Guy meets girl walking her dog. It sounds like something out of a romantic comedy, or some shitty movie starring Drew Barrymore. Thats just how it happens sometimes I guess. This is where it started though. Right there on that sidewalk. East 33rd Street. In case you were wondering. I shook her hand and just stood there like an idiot. All I could do was look into her eyes and keep myself from passing out. I just don’t think you get it. Her eyes were something else, man. Solid. Big. Perfectly brown. Not too dark, and not too light. No red lines at all. Pure white. They were the perfect shape and size and the way she looked at me…
I looked back at her in complete awe. Where did she get those eyes? I didn’t even know they made people like her. I kind of let out a sigh, but it was more of an attempt to catch my breath. All I could do was pull a stupid smile. Ear to ear.
Then it happened.
Something heart stopping.
Something earth shattering.
The sky sank.
The forest died.
The desert flooded.
The oceans drained.
The mountains crumbled.
The world stopped turning.
“It was nice meeting you.” She said.
“Come on Alex(Allison?). Lets go, you’ve bothered ______ enough.” She pulled the dogs leash.
“See ya!” She smiled again.
“Bye.” I never stopped smiling.
Thats all I could say. She walked away and I was still in shock. I stood there on the sidewalk for years. Maybe ten, fifteen, twenty years. Just stunned. I was late getting back to work, nobody noticed. Every day after that I walked that way for lunch, even if I wasn’t hungry. I ran in to her a few times over the next week or two. Every single time all I could do was get lost in her eyes, and her voice. I pet her dog Barley(Lisa?) every day and made small talk with her, and tried not to pass out.
Those eyes though.
Those brown eyes.
I fell in love with her. With a girl I’ve never seen inside. With a girl I’ve never said more than two full paragraphs to. A month passed and she was all I could think about. I wonder where she lives? What is her last name? Does she have a job? Where? How old is she? None of it really mattered though. All that mattered was that I loved her with all my being. The things I wouldn’t give to even have her phone number. Did she have a phone? What did she think of me? Would she think I was crazy? Like I said she was all I could think about. It was so strange though, it wasn’t one of those crushes you get on pretty girls from across the grocery store. Does she feel the same way? Where did she get her dog? Where did she go to school? I’m not crazy. Its not one of those situations where I want to wear her skin or anything like that. I just…
_______ was too good for this world.
She was perfect, and I could tell by her smile.
The look in her eyes was so innocent.
She was everything I had ever wanted in a girl.
I just knew.
She died you know.
She was hit by a truck.
Right there on the street where we always met.
Right in front of me to.
King(Kerri?) ran out into the street.
The truck didn’t stop. At all.
That’s all there was to it.
She looked up.
I looked down.
Our eyes met.
The music skipped as a truck plowed into the side of my car. Drivers side… of course. There was a red light.
The truck didn’t stop. At all.
Broken glass tore into me as I was tossed across the inside of my car and into the passenger side window. It rolled. I was half hanging out of the window when it did. Crushed by the weight and torn in half by the pavement. My teeth cracked. Everything came to a stop. There was smoke. There was blood. Nobody screamed, but the music was pretty loud. Maybe I just didn’t hear it.