Fan Fiction/Writing - Challenge Thread (2) - Challenge #7 Announced (details on pg. 11) Submit Anytime - Page 9

sweet_zelda · 05-14-2009, 09:03 AM

Jordyn, it wasn't your fault I couldn't get onto

But finally:

Challenge #6 ENTRIES

1.
"This is ridiculous. I hope you know that."

Her last words to me before she slammed that door so damn hard I was sure that the house would just collapse on top of me and finish me off. Joanna had never really seemed enthusiastic about any of my...interests, but the one which broke up our marriage wasn't actually all that bad, she just took it the wrong way. I thought women liked cats anyway? Lions are cats, Joanna! And it wasn't like lion tamers didn't have good health insurance.

Later that day, as the weather and the sky were settling down for the night like the people below, I decided to go find Joanna. Looking around her usual haunts, I had no luck until I went down the street where we had lived before we got married. It was only a memory now, a distant reminder of what once was, but I could visualise us walking down this same street that balmy summer when we first met. We were so carefree and I could even remember how she smelt, how she looked that day, all in my mind. I enjoyed this memory for a while, and it had an happy ending unlike my relationship with Joanna. For them, the sun was still high in the sky, they were happy and there they went, holding hands, laughing and dancing along the way as if nothing could ever harm them.

2.
The tiger and the blue eyed moron!

He looks at you and you look back at him, he has a smirk on his face and you roll your eyes at how pathetic he is. He really is pathetic, it doesn’t matter that he’s hot or that you find yourself lost when looking into his blue eyes, he’s pathetic, he knows that, you know that, hell, everyone knows that.

You start walking back and forth in the elevator, only he can be stupid and pathetic enough to get you two stuck in the freaking elevator, it isn’t romantic, it’s nothing like in the movies, it’s just horrible.

"So who's the idiot stuck in the elevator?" he asks you, what kind of question is that?

You roll your eyes at him once again and look him in the eyes damn those blue ocean eyes. “I’m the idiot for ever agreeing to go out with you, but us getting stuck in here,” you point at the elevator, “is all your fault.”

“Baby, how is it my fault?” he asks flirtatiously.

Is he serious, you think, or maybe he’s just slow, yes, that must be it, he’s a slow pathetic blue-eyed moron.

“Hah, are you for real?” you ask and let out a laugh. “Who the hell misses the out of order sign?”

“Don’t blame this on me, you didn’t notice it either,” he says for his defense.

“I WAS BUSY BABY SITTING YOU, THAT’S WHY I MISSED IT!” You yell out, it feels good to yell.

You are right, the whole night was about him acting immature and you feeling like a freaking baby sister, first he gets into a fight with the waiter, then with the cop that stopped him for speed driving, which of course he denied, god, you were afraid that he would pick a fight with a 5 year old on your way up to his and yours apartments, dating someone from your building isn’t good, not good at all. Because after having an awful date you just want to go home and never see the person again, but since that person lives next door you will find it impossible to avoid seeing him/her.

He walks behind you and puts his arms around your waist, and you wonder to yourself, why am I shivering? Why is this pathetic blue-eyed moron making me shiver? It doesn’t make sense to you; nothing makes sense as he starts to plant kisses on your neck.

“This is ridiculous. I hope you know that, you can’t be baby sitting me, because that would make you a pervert, besides I’m only two months younger than you,” he says with a husky voice, while continuing to kiss your neck.

You try your hardest not to moan, if you moan he will win, and if he wins than his ego would eventually kill you both and everyone in the building. But you can’t take it any longer, you’re tired of the teasing, you need his lips pressed against yours, and just as you are going to kiss him the elevator door opens and both of your eyes glare at the empty hall. He looks at you and you look back at him, neither of you knowing what to do.

“I should go home now,” you say and walk out of the elevator.

He looks disappointed his eyes are showing it. “Bye Julie!” he hisses.

You turn around and see him making his way to his apartment, which is of course next to yours. You are too lost in thought to unlock the door but you wake up when you hear the sound of him unlocking his, suddenly you feel the need to stop him, maybe he wasn’t that bad after all, the date wasn’t that bad. The waiter was respectless and he did grab your ass, plus the cop was wrong about Jimmy speed driving, you can’t believe that you missed out of so many facts that made actual sense.

He’s ready to go in to his apartment when you decide to take a second chance, take a second chance on him.

“Hey!” you hiss and he turns around. “I was thinking of how we never really got the time to watch a movie, so do you want to come to my place and watch a movie?” you ask. It surprises you of how much you want him to say yes.

He looks at you thoughtfully, you’re sure that he isn’t sure of what to do, after a while he gives you a smirk and you smile, finally you’re back on the game again.

“Sure,” he tells and locks his door. “Just you know, there was never a out of order sign, I pressed the stop button,” Jimmy admits.

You look at him and find yourself lost in his eyes in a while. “Why, why did you do that?”

“I wanted to spend more time with you, and since the date sucked I really needed the extra time.”

“Extra time for what?” you ask confused.

He gives you smile, it’s the first time he’s smiling tonight. “Extra time for you to change your mind about me and give me a second chance.”

A huge smile grows on your face, he isn’t that bad after all. “I’m not tired,” you suddenly say and meet his confused look.

“That’s good, I guess.”

You start to laugh, it’s something about him that makes you speak with out thinking, it’s like thinking is not an option when being around him.

“How do you feel about skipping the movie and going out to a club instead? I mean it’s only 10 PM,” you say, while looking at the clock. “Get a couple of drinks, maybe dance, what do you say?”

“I say that that is the best idea you’ve had all night,” he tells. "So, what do you say, Tiger, wanna head out?"

You look at him surprised and find yourself loving the idea of him calling you tiger. The pathetic blue-eyed moron and the tiger; the perfect match.

3.
Beneath her fingers the vibrant orange pedals felt like the softest silk she had ever come in contact with. Inhaling their sweet scent she uncoiled her hearts hold it had on the memories and allowed them to drift upward to her mind. To a time when stormy clouds didn’t constantly hover over her, she smiled much more than she frowned, and when he was around. Opening her eyes she saw the black spots that littered the flower, much like the black and blue marks that once decorated her.

"So, what do you say, Tiger Lily, wanna head out?" The voice rang out from the door of her room and Lily couldn’t stop the smile from bursting forth if she tried. Dropping Mr. Davis she ran across the cotton candy colored room and into the arms of her father.

“Daddy!” He scooped her up in his arms and held her tight and safe. She always felt safe in his arms, he was her Superman. “Are you ready to see the elephants? And the hippos?”

With a quick movement he had her on his hip and with a free hand he brushed backed the tussled ginger hair from her grass green eyes. “Of course, and the bears and monkeys and most importantly the tigers!”

“Please keep my daughter a safe distance from the dangerous animals Ethan.” This time it was her mother as she rounded the corner and came into sight of the pair.

Not far behind her was her new husband, Josh, with a smirk on his face, “Come on babe , we should just be happy for thm alone time.”

Neither Ethan or Lily cared for the man, but if Leslie was happy they were going to do their best to be happy for her. Lily had her own reason; the remnants of a much too strong grip on her arm, small bumps on her head and knees as he would shove her over. But they were minor to the wide grin he seemed to put on her mother’s face, so she battled on. “Ready Daddy?”

Turing from the smug man Ethan was greeted by the bright eyes and a smile that was missing a tooth or two. “You betcha Tiger Lily.” He closed the bedroom door behind him and walked down the all towards the door, “I’ll have her back by seven Les.”

She gave him a nod, “Alright Ethan, have fun sweetie.” Lily kissed her mother goodbye and left for a day at the zoo with her Daddy.

But it was only a memory now, a distant reminder of what once was. A few days later her father had been in a car accident and taken away from her forever. Not long after Josh began caring less about where his grip was too strong or how forceful he would push and hit. The bruises became harder and harder to hide as the years dragged on, and once Lily had hit puberty the abuse wasn’t just physical any more.

Two days after Lily turned eighteen she left, in a note she left for her mother she explained it all and why she kept quiet and hoped that in return her mother would leave Josh as soon as possible. After high school there was college and after college she left for Seattle. Her mother never made any attempt to contact her and Lily took that as the decision to stay with Josh.

“You don’t like them?” The soft voice, like honey and citrus juice combined, interrupted her thoughts from across the threshold.

Seventeen years after her father’s death and her abuse she was allowing men back into her life. This man was just a few inches taller than herself, in three inch heels, with hair the color of coffee grinds, and eyes the truest blue. His brow was furrowed and his eyes full of worry, of a mistake. “Oh no, I…it’s just I haven’t been given these in, well years.”

Another strong intake and she was reminded of the sweetness and good in life. “Let me just put these in a vase and we can be off.” Running back into her kitchen she found a glass beaker and ran it under the facet to fill it with water before dropping the bouquet into place. Setting it on the windowsill they captured the fading light just right and she smiled at the gorgeous vibrancy of the flowers that had been absent in her life for so long, tiger lilies.

4.
The wooden swing set was still there, squeaking as it swayed back and forth in the gentle, almost haunting breeze. The golden sun was waning behind the rows of leafy trees, losing its hopeful glow as it shrunk further below the baby blue sky, a tint too soft to fit his current mood. The ground was verdant with lush grass, sprinkled with harmless drops of rain.

It was only a memory now, a distant reminder of what once was.

Sometimes he wished he could go back and relive and redo those blithe sun-filled days of his childhood and teenage summers, but he knew that there was a reason why they were how they were. If he changed them now, he would change himself forevermore.

He could just picture his ten-year-old self slouching resignedly on one of those old swings, the blades of grass below him tickling his ankles as he rocked back and forth in boredom. He could envision Vera swinging joyously beside him, grinning that famous exuberant smile as she leapt up into the air and was yanked back down again by gravity. His heart began to hammer as he remembered the way her brilliant scarlet hair would whip behind her like a cape, and how beautifully breathless she looked afterwards. Her clashing hazel eyes would brighten up by some sort of magic, spiraling as they magically turned colors and widened. They would chatter and laugh childishly with each other, lazing under the sweltering heat of a southern summer. They would swim in the creek a quarter of a mile from his farm, only dusting their feet with dirt once again when they scampered back, barefooted. “Let’s go run!” she would excitedly holler out to him, motioning him over with her hand, her skinny wrist encircled with friendship bracelets. She would laugh melodiously, her honey voice delighting the atmosphere, and she would scurry over to him and jerk at his hand until he succumbed. Vera would race him, time and time again, even if she knew that he would win every time. And every time, she grew closer and closer to beating him. “One day, I will win,” she would pronounce breathlessly after every informal race, her freckled face molded with certainty. “One day, I will beat you.” She never did. She never got the chance to.

He kicked the moist dirt at his feet almost angrily, his chest throbbing in ache at the painful memories.

Because they were now. They were painful memories now.

He gulped forcibly and glanced up at the expanse of sky that seemed to stretch on for eternity. A creative swirl of oranges, pinks, and reds prettied the sky and shadows were cast over most everything.

He steadied a brave breath and continued on through the deserted farm he had once known and called his own, lumbering slowly through the meadows that clutched so many more memories. His heart sank as he remembered that fateful evening, which coincidentally had also been during the sunset. He halted abruptly and stared out at the empty plot of grassland, pinpointing with his eyes the exact spot where he and Vera had been laying that day. Once again, he could visualize it perfectly. He had been lying calmly on his back and Vera had nestled comfortably at his side with her curtain of ruby hair thrown across the grass, breathing ever so softly as she peppered kisses on his chest and tried so hard not to close her eyes. He remembered how they had gazed out dreamily at the dusk until it had gone, and they had been left alone in the warm night’s darkness. He remembered the ubiquitous fireflies, blinking their tiny lights as they swarmed the landscape. Vera had mumbled against his chest, and he had asked what she had said. “I want to marry you,” she had repeated confidently. He had been taken aback, stunned entirely. “When?” She had smiled almost teasingly and settled further against him. “This week.” “Baby, we are eighteen. This is ridiculous. I hope you know that.” She had smiled softly at him, almost sadly, nodding slightly. “I know.” That seemed to be the reason why. So crazily, they had married; their heads fogged with thoughts of their hearts, their hearts bursting with wild young love.

The man shook his head now.

It was so long ago.

His eyes flashed to the small tool shed near the tree on the other side of the pasture, and he sighed inwardly. That mess of rotten wood, too, held memories.

Four years sped by as if they were meaningless, even though they had not been. “I’m pregnant,” she had stated crisply, her eyes alight as she told him. “Really?” he had blubbered back, completely shocked. He remembered the spaz attack his heart had had at that precise moment. “Yeah.” “What are we going to do?” “I get a job.” She curled up on the wooden bench inside the shed, her willowy arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her eyes bright but still harboring some fear. “We can do this, John,” she had said anew. “Yeah, I know we can,” he had responded far too quickly, “and that’s why I’m not freaking out right now.” She had raised a slender eyebrow, scrutinizing his trembling form before giggling. “Right. Sure.” She had once again reached for his wide hand, tugging at his thick fingers and kissing his knuckles, pulling him down onto the bench beside her and melting into his arms once again.

John felt his head spin as his eyes settled on the house in the front of the field; the farmhouse he had grown up in. The paint was all chipped and faded, the hinges were rusty, and the pitiful garden was flowerless, but it was still his home.

He remembered the desolate day that Vera and him had left the old farmhouse. They had decided at last minute that they needed to move on. The farmhouse would simply be too inconvenient to live in from then on, with a baby along and Vera’s new secretary job too far away. He remembered how they had waited stiffly in front of the house for their ride, readily equipped with all of their belongings. They had sold the farmhouse with all the furniture in it, and the new owners could keep or deposit whatever they wanted when they arrived a month later. But the moving truck for their luggage and the taxi for them had never come. They waited hours, just standing there with somber faces, eyes dull and grim at the aching thought of departing with a landmark of their childhood. He remembered vividly how Vera had finally shaken the red hair out of her serious eyes, sitting down atop a stout suitcase and pressing her hands to her bulging stomach. “I’m going to miss this place,” Vera had whispered somberly, her hazel eyes dilated. “Me too,” he murmured back almost fearfully. It was a scary world out there. He wasn’t sure what to expect after dwelling in that old farmhouse his whole life. Even after his parents had gotten old and retired to a nursing home, he had kept the elderly house and had lived in it with his wife. Even when there were so many other places to go, so many other things to experience. He had a problem with letting things go; he became so easily attached. “Me too,” Vera whispered delicately out of the blue, as if she knew what he was thinking. Another silent hour passed of simply staring out at the green trees, gazing up at the sky they would not see in the big city. “Hey John?” she had called out softly. “Yeah?” “I think I’m in labor.” “You think?” “No, I know I am.” John ran his fingers through his hair and rapidly strode over to her. His face contorted into a foreign, frightened one, and he cursed aloud. Vera only laughed her sugary laugh and settled a hand on her wrist. “Calm down, John.” “I can’t. We don’t even have a car anymore!” They’d sold it, not needing it in the city. “The phone inside…there’s no more service.” Vera breathed in deeply and then sighed. “Well, then…pray.” “Pray?” “Yeah, sure. Pray.” John froze completely and eyed her skeptically. “It’s a worth a shot,” she pressed on. And so John did. And so did Vera. They prayed, so absorbed in their prayers that they hardly noticed the mini moving truck that rumbled up the dirt road…and passed them. “Hey!” John snapped awake, immediately breaking off into a sprint after the white truck. “HEY!” John had dashed to the other side of the road by the time the driver finally realized him, giving him a ride back to where Vera was amusedly giggling, her gorgeous face ablaze. John had piled everything they had had into the back of the truck, forgetting about the taxi and ordering the poor driver (who was so old John did not understand how he could drive) to steer them over to the nearest hospital. The driver dropped them off in the parking lot. John told the man to continue on to their destination; it was no use to tell him to wait, not knowing how long Vera would be. Vera was so excited to meet the baby that she couldn’t even feel the pain; all she felt was giddiness, and she showed it. It was typical Vera behavior. They were escorted to a clean hospital room and their daughter had been born only minutes later, taking everyone by surprise at her rapidity. John cringed as he remembered how they had had to stay in the nearly bare farmhouse for another two weeks before finally being able to move into the city.

John hesitantly pulled open the front door of the house, stepping inside. He sighed, breathing in the familiar air. The house lay untouched from when they had left it. He knew he was technically trespassing, but he knew no one would be in there anyway. The living room looked the same, his eyes lingering on the dismal drapes and the grape juice stains that marked the cream-colored walls of his toddler years. He wandered about, finding himself into the all-too-familiar master bedroom. The rickety wooden bed was still there, the bare mattress still sitting in it. It looked exactly the same as it had thirty years ago, too. The muted memories continued in his mind as he recalled them with a pang to his heart.

John sighed and stared out the window.

All he could think about now was Vera. The farm was heavy with memories of Vera, and they all pained him. He wanted it to go away. He knew he was only in the beginning stages of mourning, and this was why, but he still could not help himself.

He remembered when their other five children were born, too. He remembered how Vera joked that she and he needed to sleep in separate beds, that they could hardly afford another child. And yet, another one came. And then another. And another and another and another. There was a gap between the birth of his first daughter and the birth of their second child, his first son—this was because of how long it had taken them to adjust to the city life. The bustling city, so fast-paced and tireless, stripped of rules and prone to craziness. It also wasn’t the safest place to live; he remembered how they had protectively cradled June in their arms for years, even when she was six. He remembered the fiery arguments that would erupt in between Vera and him about moving back to their rural home: John was against it, Vera desired the move more than anything. But John’s job was so close, and he had gotten a promotion and had to be at the office more and more. During this time, Vera had made this biggest effort to make sure her relationship with her husband did not strain, and she was luckily successful.

When June was eight, Ted was born. Two years later, James was born. Henry followed ten months afterwards. The fraternal twins Julia and Ruthie came one year later. John remembered how they had been on vacation at the farmhouse; its wealthy owners at the time letting them rent it for a summer, when Vera had had the twins. In those old days, the doctor would come to the house to help the woman give birth. That early morning, after Julia had been born and so had the afterbirth and after he’d checked everything, the doctor had left. It wasn’t until the afternoon did Vera come to realize there was another baby. She had been resting in bed while John had gone to a pond near the territory with the kids, and Vera had ran all the way to the pond to tell John there was another one! The doctor hadn’t even made it in time to welcome little Ruthie, but there had been no need for his assistance anyway. John remembered, with the smallest of chuckles vibrating his chest, how he had had to pay June forty dollars to take care and distract her siblings in the other part of the beach house while John dove into a frantic mode. John remembered, another tiny chuckle ensuing, how Vera had been the one who needed to calm him instead of the other way around.

John wound his way out of the house, sighing as he stopped at his truck. The sun had vanished now, and the sky was as dark as he remembered it.

The truck still hurt him, too.

He wanted to get rid of the pain, yet he didn’t have the strength to.

The ghost of Vera was paining him, but he knew it was a necessary sort of pain. It had to happen in order for him to then overcome the situation.

Overcome the situation. It sounded so horrible and insignificant in that context. It wasn’t merely a petty situation; it was a whole chunk of his life. The majority of it, too. He couldn’t let the pain pass through him monotonously, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully feel the pain.

But as John stood before the decrepit farmhouse one last time, the pain crashed down on him all at once and overwhelmed him, and he drowned in his own sorrowful memories. He weakly fell down at his knees and sighed bitter tears of grief.

The farmhouse would be demolished the next day.

Vera hadn’t wanted the farmhouse to go; she’d always pined for the tiny old house, calling it her true home. That, it was, but it was also more.

John had come to the farmhouse to stop the demolition, but as he wept, he knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Not only was it fate, and not only did he need to simply let life take its course, but he needed to finally unleash the pain that the house had crammed up inside it. Once the abandoned house collapsed, so would the wall that restricted all of those memories. So many memories.

After strolling the plains of the farm he had known and after kissing the grass goodbye, he felt deep down inside of him that he was ready. He was ready to let go of the house that was only holding him back.

As John drove away in his big old truck from that tiny old house, he had driven away from Vera. But, he was driving towards a new life, and towards a new house where new memories could blossom.

5.
„So, what do you say, Tiger, wanna head out?“

Green eyes looked at her suspiciously. It was like he could always tell what was really on her mind. Like, right now, for example. She sighed.

„Well, fine, I admit defeat. But don’t say I didn’t ask you.“

Gathering her coat and boots, Chloe got ready to head out. Tiger hissed, but Chloe just ignored the cat. Of course, his real name wasn’t Tiger. Because Davis had given her that cat and Davis didn’t do things halfway. Chloe only had to mention that a bit of company might be nice and – woosh – there was a cat on her doorstep. Not just a cat, though. A cat named Sir Antoine Malbury van Dyke-Henrikson. Like she was ever going to call him that. Tiger was a much better fit.

Davis.

She still had his number in her cell phone, although she knew he’d never call. Not after Clark had sent him to the Phantom Zone. And Davis had accepted his true nature as the Ultimate Destroyer and decided that the only way to keep **** from hitting the fan was to lock himself up. Chloe had disagreed. After that, things were never going to be the same.

The sound of the door falling into place was louder than usual, making her feel her loneliness sharper than ever. Her heels clicked as she walked down the dark corridor and out of the building. Star City was much dirtier than Smallville and her apartment no longer felt as homey as the Talon, but nobody knew her here. Good place for someone who tried to help a serial killer. She was, after all, trying to start fresh.

At the beginning, it hadn’t been easy. At every corner she believed to see Clark, but when she looked again it was just a man looking similar. Sometimes, they didn’t even look like Clark at all. Or like Oliver. Or Lois. But after a while she realized that none of them would come looking for her.

Sometimes, she dreamt about them. About working at the Daily Planet, or, with coffee in hand, as Watchtower with Oliver, or karaoke night with her cousin Lois. But it was only a memory now, a distant reminder of what once was. Something that Chloe tried to shake off, but never quite managed to forget.

And then there were days like this one. Where she felt so alone in the world that not even Tiger could comfort her. Because Tiger reminded her of Davis. The one person she couldn’t save. The one person whom she wished she’d never met, because he had ruined her life. She knew that it wasn’t her fault, essentially, but she couldn’t help but blame him. It’s what kept her alive.

The noise of the cars on the street was calming to her ears and mind. She now worked as a reporter again, but her name wasn’t Chloe Sullivan anymore. Her name was Nellie Summer-Bloom. And Nellie worked at a small newspaper that mostly covered local news, such as the opening of a flower shop on 5th/West Highlands. Stuff that wouldn’t get her noticed, but let her pay for the apartment. And for cat food.

Rain clouds hung gloomily over the city, copying her mood perfectly. She wanted for than anything for anyone to hug her, to visit her or even just call her. But none of them knew where she was.

Just because she didn’t know where else to go, she went to work. She’d always liked it there, the bustling noise not quite like the Daily Planet, but loud enough. Nobody seemed to be surprised when they saw her entering the office.

“There you are! This story seems right up your alley: Mrs Clearing’s cat had to be rescued off a tree this morning. You should go interview the firefighter that saved her, he’s a real hero.”

Of course.

“Sure, no problem.” She forced a smile on her face and took the memo. Already thinking about a certain angle and scribbling down which sources to visit first, she didn’t even notice the blonde man standing at her desk. She hastily rummaged through her notes and things in order to find her tape recorder.

“This is ridiculous. I hope you know that.”

Oliver.

“I always liked it when you went all super reporter.”

A smug smile appeared on his face. An honest to God smile. And when he lifted his eyebrow at her flabbergasted expression, he looked just like Tiger. Or Tiger looked just like Oliver. Either way, she felt safe. And when his arms reached out and pulled her into an embrace, Chloe felt at home.

“Happy Birthday, Watchtower.”

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