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Post by gary jamison becke on Sept 6, 2009 12:12:07 GMT -5
 * all the world's a stage, [/b][/font] and all the men and women merely players- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center] he shuffled his feet, glancing nervously in each direction. crowds freaked him out, people freaked him out, and silence freaked him out the most. in the middle of the day, when shoppers should be hustling to their favorite stores, not a scuff could be heard. in his mind, he imagined a tumbleweed blowing past the deserted shopping mall, as he had seen in the old western films. once upon a time, hilo shopping mall buzzed with action, liveliness, and cute girls, but now he he stood serene, almost saddened by the lack of life in the little shops. yet he hadn't thought of the possibility people could be at school, which he was not. musing over it for days, gary persuaded himself to ditch, feeling a candid sense of bravery as he imagined his desk empty. chuckling, gary found a nearby lamppost and with bold intentions leaned against it, a half-witted smirk placed placidly on his smooth lips.
it seemed, as the case may be, he hadn't any intention of going to school. in fact, he despised it; the teachers, the counselor, the kids, everything earth could offer he refused. while most his age loved hanging out with their buddies and chasing after hot girls, gary preferred solitude, often holed up in the library, behind a bookshelf or in a far corner. he liked reading, but he came to the library for security. it was almost always empty, so gary needn't worry about bullies or counselors or teachers. sometimes he brought his ipod, and just listened for the rest of lunch. if boredom struck in class, gary's extra special hoodie always did the trick, successfully hiding his ear buds under the giant checkered floppy hat thing. now he wasn't in that situation,yet it didn't mean it wasn't a bad one. knowing the human race existed helped him get through his day, but now he wondered if he had survived a meteor crash.
gary thought about turning back, and wiped ink black bangs out of his eyes. he turned left and right, nervousness settling in his stomach. slowly, he pulled his hood up, hiding his fearful expression, and tried to look cool next to the lamp post. he didn't smoke, but sometimes he wished he did, since all the cool kids were smoking nowadays. unfortunately, gary's label differed from "druggie" or "junkie" or "bitch." at his school, his label was "that weird emo guy" just because of his black hair and crystal blue eyes. the older kid would push him into lockers, throw him in trashcans, or lock him in the bathroom, just because of how he looked. it made gary very self conscious. sometimes he'd go the log way to school, just to avoid the football players and the marching band, who liked to empty their spit valves on him. gulping down a lump of incoming sobs, he pulled his jacket closer to him, wishing his thin jeans were normal and that he was back home with his parents.
[/blockquote] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - * the pen is mightier than the sword [/color] 500 words* such stuff as dreams are made on[/color] using quotes from william shakespeare* get thee to a nunnery![/color] OPHELIA is/are tagged* what's in a name?[/color] template made by LAURIE?! of CAUTION 2.0[/size][/blockquote] [center][IMG]http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k307/snowstripe/alexevanspic.png[/IMG]
[font=mistral][size=8][b][color=666699]*[/color] [color=669966]all the world's a stage[/color][color=666699],[/color] [/size][/b][/font]
[size=3][color=666699][font=times][i]and all the men and women merely players[/i][/font][/color][/size]
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[blockquote][size=1][b][color=666699]* the pen is mightier than the sword[/b][/color] [color=669966] [b]number[/b] words[/color]
[b][color=666699]* such stuff as dreams are made on[/b][/color] [color=669966] using quotes from [b]william shakespeare[/b][/color]
[b][color=666699]* get thee to a nunnery![/b][/color] [color=669966] [b]OPHELIA[/b] is/are tagged[/color]
[b][color=666699]* what's in a name?[/b][/color] [color=669966] template made by [url=http://z10.invisionfree.com/CAUTIONTOTHEWIND/index.php?showuser=4401][b][color=666699]LAURIE?![/color][/b][/url] of [url=http://z10.invisionfree.com/CAUTIONTOTHEWIND/index.php][color=666699][b]CAUTION 2.0[/b][/color][/url][/color]
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Post by ophelia devon martin on Sept 6, 2009 13:28:32 GMT -5
 i said let's see you walk it ,[/color][/font][/i]
I SAID LETS SEE YOU WALK IT - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
yeah yeah well you're just a mess you do all this big talkin’ so now let's see y
ou walk i said let's see you walk it! it's obvious that you're dying dying just li
ving proof that the camera's lying and oh oh open wide yeah oh oh open wi
de... oh oh open wide this is your night. so smile cause you'll go out in style!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I SAID LETS SEE YOU WALK IT
her colourful hair seemed to make it almost impossible to see at the very moment. because every times she jumped, or did a trick, her hair found a way to go right back into her face, making it hard to see through the locks of orange, red, and yellow. it was her real hair, she wasn't wearing a wig, she just liked dying her hair a bit too much. right mow ophelia was pulling a trick on her skate board, more or so an ollie. no one seemed to be in the mall, a few people here and there, but not enough to where someone would run out a holler at her to get off her skate board. her bangs seemed to fly right in front oh her mossy green eyes because of this; it didn't seem to bug her enough, she was after all looking downward at the very moment. and then she was moving some hair out of her face, before she was continuing on her way. the best thing at the moment, if someone said something about her being rude and skate boarding inside, she wouldn't hear, so she wouldn't have the chance to be sarcastic and very blunt about how the other person looked, or sounded like.
ophelia was not the easiest person to get along with, that was not hard to figure out. she was too blunt, and often did not care if she hurt someone's feelings. that was just how she was. it had been like that for so long-- since she was little, she just never really cared, it had become second nature. really, why care what other people say? or what they think? if they couldn't handle the truth, then well, that was their problem, not her's. that was most likely one of the things that made her so hard to get along with half the time, but she could not help the way she thought. because she had thought like that for the longest time, that it was to the point where it wouldn't, or couldn't be changed. and her sarcasm had a big factor in the whole ordeal, some people were not very fond of it, and it seemed to be a turn off. well, too bad so sad for them, she wouldn't stop her sarcasm just because a few people didn't like it, oh no, that was not ophelia's way. never had been, never would be. she wouldn't change a thing (or so she said, though, didn't people at some point try to change something about themselves). if someone didn't like her, they didn't like her, she wouldn't change for them.
once again, her hair flew in front of her eyes, her weaving around people seemed to do that. she was already going so fast, that every time she turned, and avoided someone-- it was such a sharp turn, her hair would fly right in front of her vision, and this time, it started to bug her-- because she wasn't look down, toward the ground, she was actually looking forward this time. and all she saw was orange blur, added with yellow, and a bit of reed, everything else seemed to be invisible to her, which was not a good thing. the skate board still wavered, though, she was guessing when it came to this very moment. though, at the very moment she went to move the bangs from her eyes, brushing them right back to the side, knowing they would not last long at all over in that one area, she could hear someone yelling watch where you going, and she looked back; it was something if she would hear it over her own head phones. and when her head snapped forward, the bangs slightly moving over one eye, a look seemed to come over her face. oh shit. "look out!
[/color]" she was trying to give him a warning, which was why she seemed to yell it, just incase she hit him-- he at least had a second or two to move out of the way. but this was not good, going as fast as she was-- when it's even harder to stop on a dime. and she had very little time to try and stop, considering she was headed right for a guy. and she tried turning the board so she wouldn't hit him, because stopping was out of the question-- putting your foot down only slowed you down so much, it didn't take you to a complete stop. meaning, she would have still hit him. ophelia was able to make the board turn though, sending her not into him, but around him, and into a trash can. that's right, the red head, had flipped over the trash can. [/blockquote][/blockquote] [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - JUST A NOTE.
AND I DECLARE[/color] this post is finished. OH, DARLING,[/color] gary becke YOU CAN
MEET ME HERE[/color] at the lovely mall. YOU KNOW YOU'VE FOUND ME WHEN
YOU SEE[/color] red skinny jeans, and a "to write love on her arms" tee. I HAVE A F
EW WORDS TO SAY TO YOU.[/color] or, more like eight hundred fourteen. BEF
ORE YOU COME, I WILL NEED TO THANK[/color] sydknee says! , bubble wrap , and Paramore. AND I'LL HAVE TO LET YOU KNOW THAT,[/color] i think i try to make it too funny, but i at least got it done, right? that's something! [/size] [/font] JUST A NOTE. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/center][/color] |
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Post by gary jamison becke on Sept 6, 2009 18:00:57 GMT -5
* all the world's a stage, [/b][/font] and all the men and women merely players- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center] gary hummed a tune, something he had heard a while back. it wasn't a new song; maybe from the forties. of course, he had always been a fan of old music, the newer crappy stuff just made him sick. and still, the mall's sullen silence made him shiver, not visible through his checkered jacket, though. how embarrassing would that be? sometimes being alone could be a good thing, especially with frank sinatra in tow. he smiled slightly, letting the notes tumble out of his nose, his vocal chords barely doing any work at all. no one thought gary could sing, but of course no one knew he liked frank sinatra either. but sinatra's hits were more fifties, and gary thought forties fit the mood better. another reason why his stereotypical emo label didn't fit him: he wasn't into screamo, or depressing music. if only people understood that, maybe he wouldn't be so isolated from the world. music was his savior, something he always had with him. and frank sinatra was his hero.
the sound of a rolling skateboard jerked gary from his subliminal thoughts. another human, maybe? he looked up, only to see a girl - he couldn't tell her age - flying twoards him on an uncontrollable skate board. it didn't occur to him at first that the young lady might be having some issues, so he watched her from his lamppost with seemingly no interest. but he watched her, out of the corner of his eye, just because she fascinated him. her wild orange hair blew in every direction, her face shaped in a way only models had. on her skateboard, she seemed about his height, but gary could tell she wasn't that tall. she approached him, as if struggling to gain control of her contraption. and still, the thought blew past him, and he turned away, crystal colored eyes focused on the toes of his white sneakers. she amazed him in every way possible, and it pained gary to look anywhere but her direction. it wasn't that he liked her; she just interested him.
it wasn't until she called to him that he looked up, surprised to see her wobbling towards him. fear welled in his chest, fear of being smashed into the ground and dying. he didn't move, glued to the spot, staring at her with terror. luckily, the girl seemingly bridled her board and whizzed by him, only to be flung into the air and towards a nearby trashcan. as he heard the thump, gary closed his eyes and winced, slowly peeking at her, afraid of the blood and brains and bones he might find. but she seemed alright, at least he thought so. at this point, gary couldn't tell if the sky was beneath or above him. tentatively, he approached her, stepping lightly as if he were afraid to scare her. "a... are you ok?" he stood there, dumbly, ashamed at his question, for the answer seemed obvious enough.
[/blockquote] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - * the pen is mightier than the sword [/color] 500 words* such stuff as dreams are made on[/color] using quotes from william shakespeare* get thee to a nunnery![/color] OPHELIA is/are tagged* what's in a name?[/color] template made by LAURIE?! of CAUTION 2.0[/size][/blockquote] |
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Post by ophelia devon martin on Sept 6, 2009 22:43:31 GMT -5
i said let's see you walk it , [/color][/font][/i]
I SAID LETS SEE YOU WALK IT - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
yeah yeah well you're just a mess you do all this big talkin’ so now let's see y
ou walk i said let's see you walk it! it's obvious that you're dying dying just li
ving proof that the camera's lying and oh oh open wide yeah oh oh open wi
de... oh oh open wide this is your night. so smile cause you'll go out in style!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I SAID LETS SEE YOU WALK IT
her ideal of a good day was not falling into a garbage can. ophelia, did not count this as a good moment-- but it would not ruin her day off, oh, no. one fall into a can would not spoil everything today. so many rules to be broken, so many things to be done, on a day she didn't have work. one crash, would not spoil that. and though for most, it wouldn't be hard to get out of it, it was for her, since her legs were not touching the ground. and she seemed to squirm. she hated being short; it was never a good thing, never had been. she had always hated being short. and someone making a short joke had always pissed her off beyond everything else, really, she'd sent a guy to the hospital once for calling her a midget. she was five foot two, get over it. people were much shorter than her, she was not the only one. and what made it worse, was she knew she wouldn't be getting any taller soon, or most likely ever. but still, it made her so mad when people pointed out she wasn't very tall. but she wiggled around, unsure of what she was smelling at the very moment, but it was not the greatest smell she'd ever had come to her nose. "oh my god.
[/color]" she scrunched up her nose, no that did not smell great, and now she really wanted to get out of the trash can, just to make sure nothing was in her hair-- and that she herself did not smell of trash, that would be a bummer, to her great day (well, it was partly great so far, until this). and she finally was able to reach the out side of the trash can, and tried pulling up. " that's disgusting!![/color]" and she wiggled even more, getting at least half way out, and some light seemed to show her what it had been that she had smelled, old food, gross, but it was covered up. the bad thing about getting half way out of the trash can, was the simple fact her feet were still not touching the ground. once her feet could hit the ground, she would be out, but they were not touching, and this seemed to make it a bit harder than it should have really been. "a... are you ok?" at the sound of a guys voice, her head seemed to tilt back, only for her to realise, that there was no way she'd be able to see the person out there, but it was enough of a shot to get them to help her out-- though she'd rather continue trying herself, there was no way ophelia would stay stuck inside a trash can. " hey, hey you![/color]" her loud voice seemed to hurt her own ears as it bounced off the can, though, she was almost positive he would hear her, there wouldn't be a way he could not hear her, there just wouldn't be. " wanna help me out of this?[/color]" again, her own loud voice seemed to ring in her ears for a moment, before she seemed to start trying to pull herself out of the trash can. she was almost out, it wouldn't be so hard, now would it? even though she struggled for a moment, her arms shaking from pulling herself up even partly, she was determined to if not get herself out. with a bit more effort, she made it basically out, enough to where she could put her elbows on the out side of the trash can, and to the point her feet touched the ground, even by a little-- and then getting out seemed to be so much easier for the red head. the look on her face said basically what she was thinking, thank god i can breath now and again, her orange, yellow, and red hair had fallen in her way as she stood there, and had cocked at her hid, while most of her weight went on the opposite foot. and she went to getting a bit of trash out of her hair, before shaking her head, causing her colored hair to fly and fix it's self to a certain point. [/blockquote][/blockquote] [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - JUST A NOTE.
AND I DECLARE[/color] this post is finished. OH, DARLING,[/color] gary becke YOU CAN
MEET ME HERE[/color] at the lovely mall. YOU KNOW YOU'VE FOUND ME WHEN
YOU SEE[/color] red skinny jeans, and a "to write love on her arms" tee. I HAVE A F
EW WORDS TO SAY TO YOU.[/color] or, more like seven hundred twenty-four. BEF
ORE YOU COME, I WILL NEED TO THANK[/color] sydknee says! , bubble wrap , and Paramore. AND I'LL HAVE TO LET YOU KNOW THAT,[/color] bleh, sorry this took soo long it's complete rubbish though. ]< [/size] [/font] JUST A NOTE. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/center][/color] |
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Post by gary jamison becke on Sept 8, 2009 22:30:07 GMT -5
* all the world's a stage, [/b][/font] and all the men and women merely players- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center] It wasn’t like Gary Becke to be so curious about a girl he didn’t even know especially one not from his school. He stared at her, blue eyes wide in excitement and surprise. In fact, Gary Becke wasn’t the social type at all, so even looking at a stranger wasn’t part of his game. Angrily, he looked away, reluctant to believe he had somehow changed over the course of ten minutes. This stupid girl could ruin and take away everything he had worked for. Disgust rise in his chest, and he hunched over the pole more, brilliant blue orbs positioned downwards. Yet still she filled his mind, despite the cries from the garbage can. ‘Maybe I should help her,’ he thought, glancing at the struggling teenager. Idiot; why hadn’t she just run into him? It wasn’t like she’d been saving a soon-to-be hero or anything. Gary Becke would always be a nobody.
At first, he didn’t know what to make of her, hopelessly foundering in the can as if she thought she could break free. Cautiously, he waled forward, lenient and unaware of what he may find. The overcoming shyness became a bit too much to bear, and he stopped, waiting for a signal from the disheveled teen. Cocking his head to the side, he whispered, “pretty bad mess you’re in, eh?” Of course, he had to chuckle at himself, for he hadn’t meant it as a pun, yet it came out that way. He helped her anyway, trotting to her side. Blush rose in his cheeks as he stared at her neck, which he could see, even if it weren’t much. Inside, he’d rather leave her be, for he was unaware of how she would react after the problem had ended. To his relief, she seemed to prop herself out of the trashcan, though she looked bewildered. “Er, you okay?”
It wasn’t until then did he actually get a glimpse of her profile. He had been correct-- her height dangerously challenged his, but lacked the two inches it needed to be on his level. Her flaming straight hair, however dirty, reminded him of logs burning, especially at a camp fire. The girl’s eyes hid under the ragged bangs, and Gary, to his surprise, eagerly awaited seeing them. Chucking, he copied her movement, leaning against his right leg. “So. You could have just run me over. Would’ve been a hell of a lot easier than smashing into that thing.” He pointed to the scraps of food laying beside the iron monster. “Really.” He cocked his smile. “I wouldn’t have cared. I would have been fine...”
[/blockquote] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - * the pen is mightier than the sword [/color] 435 words* such stuff as dreams are made on[/color] using quotes from william shakespeare* get thee to a nunnery![/color] OPHELIA is/are tagged* what's in a name?[/color] template made by LAURIE?! of CAUTION 2.0[/size][/blockquote] |
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