The Journal of James A Holt

Another Short Story
09/08/2006 04:05 a.m.
Same thing as the other story. I actually intended on this piece being more of a psycho highschool girl bit but ended up more like a highschool romance. All the same, I got good reviews. Enjoy. Fire and Ice Damn it, it’s bright! Where the Hell is this light coming from? And what is that damn scrapping sound? Maybe I should open my eyes, but I’ll go blind if I do. Will somebody stop that damn sound? Shit, I guess I’ll have to do it myself. “Unnnhh, damn,” As Jessica opens her eyes for the first time this morning, she realizes to her dismay that the blindingly bright light is coming from her window by her bed. With this realization in her mind, sudden images of strong muscles, soft kisses, touches of unimaginable tenderness and soft words like “I love you” and “Always forever” flash through her mind with trembling warmth exploding through her body. It was the first time that she ever felt that good, felt so secure, and felt so sure of her place in this world. Andrew Laurent was the man of her life. No, not of her life, but of her soul. A towering 6 foot three inches and two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, Drew was the linebacker dreams were made of. Even with the muscle, strangely enough, he was more of a poet than a football player. Of course it was his deep green eyes that caught her attention. As strong a hue as an emerald with a gaze as strong as steel, you would think he could burrow into your soul. With light pale skin and fiery red hair, more than one girl had lost the opportunity to notice him. Except for Gail Truoghman, of course. But Gail was no longer a threat and Drew was all hers now. Always and forever. With his image burned into her mind she rolls over with a smile on her lips, the blazing stars twinkling her eyes. It was perfect. With irregularity like the weather and seemingly as continuous as time, the scraping sound came creeping in again, destroying her reverie. With an inhuman snarl on her lips and a whispered “Fuck,” she rolls out of bed in one swift quiet motion. With murderous intent she stands still and quietly listens for where the sound is coming from. Looking around the room she sees snow piling on the window ledge of her second floor room like confectioners sugar onto a cake. There doesn’t really seem like there’s much light what with the sun hiding behind the clouds. Moving toward the window she becomes painfully aware of how the sunlight is reflecting off the snow, completely blinding her. After a few minutes her eyes begin to readjust as she begins to distinguish shapes. As she gazes out onto the street, trees and houses, she reflects, “With the snow on the ground, and the clouds so high up and grey, it’s kinda hard to distinguish the difference ‘tween the ground and sky, especially with all the trees and houses covered as well. Before she even begins to even dream of her perfect world of crystal snow with her perfect king of fiery passion, the scraping sound of her father on the car shatters her thoughts – again. With a hateful gleam in her eye, one could almost hear through the grinding of her teeth, “Daaaaaaadddddyyyyy!”
I am currently Friendly
I am listening to Theresa

Return to the Library of James A Holt


pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2023 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)