Discordia wrote:
A Sith is Betrayal
Every moment was agony. Again and again she forces me to continue these exercises. My lungs are burning, every breath I take like hot lead pouring down my throat, yet I suck each one in, desperate for another. She watches as I move, her dark eyes assessing every step I take, searching- only ever searching, for a weakness, one mistake she can punish me for. I don’t make one. I’ve already learned that lesson. But still she pushes me, one more drill, one more lap, one more flip. I do each of these without hesitation, without complaint. That is the point of course, to push me until I do what I’m told. To obey without thought. Without fear.
For that is what it means to be Sith.
We control the dark, it does not control us.
“Again.” she says.
And I do it. Because she would kill me if I didn’t. I’m twelve cycles old, no higher than her chest in height, but even then I understand this. What I don’t yet know is that I’m only a pawn in the game she’s devised. I am not the first apprentice she’s trained, and I won’t be the last. Only a number, a faceless body on her path toward destiny. In the years to come I will serve her faithfully with no regard to my own person, to my own ambitions and hopes, seeking only to see her placed in the spotlight, a terrible power unleashed upon an unsuspecting galaxy. And I am content. I hate her for every pain, for every insult, but yes...I am content.
Perhaps that is why I didn’t see it coming. The betrayal all Sith know is inevitable. I am sixteen when it comes, the first signs of womanhood upon me in gentle curves and swaying hips. I know the beauty that is mine and the power it holds over the men as we pass by. I don’t see this as entertainment however, I see it as a weapon. A weapon she no longer has with the ever deepening lines upon her pale face and the ever deepening slope of her breast. She is old, and while still a powerful practitioner of the dark side, I know the day approaches when I will be her better in a duel of blades. I see the growing knowledge of this in her eyes as she watches me, but I’m far too young to recognize it.
I fight a little harder in my drills, my flips a little more tight and graceful, in my missions I’m all the more brutal. In my own way of self preservation, I think this pleases her, that it will remove that glint of suspicion and threat in her black eyes. And I’m puzzled when it does the opposite. My beatings increase, the long bouts of lightning destroying the gloss and lustre in my dark hair, leaving deep shadows around my eyes and along my spine. When she tells me we are going on a holiday after all our hard work, I am no longer the young woman I was. I’m not afraid, no. I am incapable of this, but I am desperate to have things return to how they were before. To be the young student and she the confident and masterful artist in the shaping of my life. So much so that I agree to the trip and find myself looking forward to it.
We land on a small moon, the planet of Jaguada looming large above the jungle in the night sky. It seemed an odd place to vacation, given that it was no longer inhabited. I turned to question my Master, thinking she too had disembarked from the ship. I find her not beside me, but still at the top of the ship’s ramp. Her face was cold, more void of expression than normal.
“I have no use for pretty, mindless things.” she says, her lips spreading into an unsettling grin.
The stream of lightning hit me full force in the chest. I’d raised my defenses too late, and though I’d blocked my core from the current(and thus saved my life) the electricity took it’s toll on the rest of my body. I flew back, landing with a thud in the dirt and twitching uncontrollably. I could only smell burning hair and charred skin, I’d bit my tongue, the warm metallic tang of blood filling my mouth and trickling down my chin. I could hear her laughing, though my vision blurred. I knew then what I should have known. I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. Somewhere close by, the sound of a ramp’s compressors went off with a hiss as it closed and I recognized the loud noise of landing pads lifting off, followed shortly thereafter by ion engines firing. She’d left me to die. Alone, amongst the ruins of a long dead empire.
If only I had.
For that is what it means to be Sith.
We control the dark, it does not control us.
“Again.” she says.
And I do it. Because she would kill me if I didn’t. I’m twelve cycles old, no higher than her chest in height, but even then I understand this. What I don’t yet know is that I’m only a pawn in the game she’s devised. I am not the first apprentice she’s trained, and I won’t be the last. Only a number, a faceless body on her path toward destiny. In the years to come I will serve her faithfully with no regard to my own person, to my own ambitions and hopes, seeking only to see her placed in the spotlight, a terrible power unleashed upon an unsuspecting galaxy. And I am content. I hate her for every pain, for every insult, but yes...I am content.
Perhaps that is why I didn’t see it coming. The betrayal all Sith know is inevitable. I am sixteen when it comes, the first signs of womanhood upon me in gentle curves and swaying hips. I know the beauty that is mine and the power it holds over the men as we pass by. I don’t see this as entertainment however, I see it as a weapon. A weapon she no longer has with the ever deepening lines upon her pale face and the ever deepening slope of her breast. She is old, and while still a powerful practitioner of the dark side, I know the day approaches when I will be her better in a duel of blades. I see the growing knowledge of this in her eyes as she watches me, but I’m far too young to recognize it.
I fight a little harder in my drills, my flips a little more tight and graceful, in my missions I’m all the more brutal. In my own way of self preservation, I think this pleases her, that it will remove that glint of suspicion and threat in her black eyes. And I’m puzzled when it does the opposite. My beatings increase, the long bouts of lightning destroying the gloss and lustre in my dark hair, leaving deep shadows around my eyes and along my spine. When she tells me we are going on a holiday after all our hard work, I am no longer the young woman I was. I’m not afraid, no. I am incapable of this, but I am desperate to have things return to how they were before. To be the young student and she the confident and masterful artist in the shaping of my life. So much so that I agree to the trip and find myself looking forward to it.
We land on a small moon, the planet of Jaguada looming large above the jungle in the night sky. It seemed an odd place to vacation, given that it was no longer inhabited. I turned to question my Master, thinking she too had disembarked from the ship. I find her not beside me, but still at the top of the ship’s ramp. Her face was cold, more void of expression than normal.
“I have no use for pretty, mindless things.” she says, her lips spreading into an unsettling grin.
The stream of lightning hit me full force in the chest. I’d raised my defenses too late, and though I’d blocked my core from the current(and thus saved my life) the electricity took it’s toll on the rest of my body. I flew back, landing with a thud in the dirt and twitching uncontrollably. I could only smell burning hair and charred skin, I’d bit my tongue, the warm metallic tang of blood filling my mouth and trickling down my chin. I could hear her laughing, though my vision blurred. I knew then what I should have known. I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. Somewhere close by, the sound of a ramp’s compressors went off with a hiss as it closed and I recognized the loud noise of landing pads lifting off, followed shortly thereafter by ion engines firing. She’d left me to die. Alone, amongst the ruins of a long dead empire.
If only I had.
This is amazing. I feel so bad for the sith! Such great writing.
Stillness
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't. You can do it later," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well yeah, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "Just stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. It's going to be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle looked at him and suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No, you don't, honey. No you don't. It's okay. Just be still. Just be still."
She sighed, a sound of exasperation, as she tried let his arms still her restless body. She shook her head, and bit her lip. Letting out a whimper, she finally gave in, and instead of struggling to get out of his arms she burrowed deeper into them. She buried her head into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him as tightly as she could, with all of her strength.
She wanted to get up, she wanted to move, but she channelled all that energy instead into holding his body as tight as she could.
"That's it..." Jonathan said, as he felt her body relax in his arms. He rubbed her back. "That's it, darling."
She sobbed softly into his chest.
"You're doing great," he said, softly. "Shhhh...shhh...it's okay. It's going to be okay."
Jonathan's hands massaged his wife's back in a repetitive, rhythmic pattern, back and forth. Her sobs slowed down. Her breathing slowed down. Even her mind slowed down.
"That's it...just be still," her husband whispered. "Just be still.
Just.
Be.
Still."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly surrendered to the inevitable stillness and space and silence which had been so terrifying to her a few moments before. Under the hypnotic spell of his soothing touches, she finally fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't. You can do it later," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well yeah, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "Just stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. It's going to be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle looked at him and suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No, you don't, honey. No you don't. It's okay. Just be still. Just be still."
She sighed, a sound of exasperation, as she tried let his arms still her restless body. She shook her head, and bit her lip. Letting out a whimper, she finally gave in, and instead of struggling to get out of his arms she burrowed deeper into them. She buried her head into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him as tightly as she could, with all of her strength.
She wanted to get up, she wanted to move, but she channelled all that energy instead into holding his body as tight as she could.
"That's it..." Jonathan said, as he felt her body relax in his arms. He rubbed her back. "That's it, darling."
She sobbed softly into his chest.
"You're doing great," he said, softly. "Shhhh...shhh...it's okay. It's going to be okay."
Jonathan's hands massaged his wife's back in a repetitive, rhythmic pattern, back and forth. Her sobs slowed down. Her breathing slowed down. Even her mind slowed down.
"That's it...just be still," her husband whispered. "Just be still.
Just.
Be.
Still."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly surrendered to the inevitable stillness and space and silence which had been so terrifying to her a few moments before. Under the hypnotic spell of his soothing touches, she finally fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
Abigail_Austin wrote:
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You'd said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hands and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lied down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was fast. He could feel her rapidly chest rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "You need to stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's gonna be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, then she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No you don't, honey...no you don't. It's okay. It's okay. Just be still." After 15 minutes of this Gabrielle's body finally began to relax. As she relaxed in his arms, he began to rub her back, and she relaxed even more. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You'd said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hands and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lied down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was fast. He could feel her rapidly chest rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "You need to stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's gonna be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, then she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No you don't, honey...no you don't. It's okay. It's okay. Just be still." After 15 minutes of this Gabrielle's body finally began to relax. As she relaxed in his arms, he began to rub her back, and she relaxed even more. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
This is amazing!
Cookiesareyummie wrote:
Abigail_Austin wrote:
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You'd said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hands and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lied down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was fast. He could feel her rapidly chest rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "You need to stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's gonna be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, then she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No you don't, honey...no you don't. It's okay. It's okay. Just be still." After 15 minutes of this Gabrielle's body finally began to relax. As she relaxed in his arms, he began to rub her back, and she relaxed even more. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You'd said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hands and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lied down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was fast. He could feel her rapidly chest rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "You need to stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's gonna be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, then she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No you don't, honey...no you don't. It's okay. It's okay. Just be still." After 15 minutes of this Gabrielle's body finally began to relax. As she relaxed in his arms, he began to rub her back, and she relaxed even more. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
This is amazing!
Thank you so much!
((Little drabble I once wrote for this sneaky bugger I RPed way back then and who I still like so much that I wanted to give him a spot here
Caution some mild (yeah, in my book that is still mild ;P) swearing ahead - ))
"Good morning" - Basso almost choked on his coffee when he was greeted so suddenly from behind... – inside the kitchen of his flat located on the fourth floor of the building, without anyone having officially entered the room or even the whole flat before... – well, more correctly, with no-one having entered the room through any of the doors before.
"Garrett! I swear one day I will simply die of a bloody heart-attack or by chocking on something and it will be all your fault! - Darnit, why can´t you knock, ring, shout, whatever… and above all use a damned door like any normal person..... ". The stocky owner of the apartment and the little Antiques-shop on the ground floor of the building cursed while turning towards the slender, dark figure lingering just barely visible in a shadowy corner on the far side of the room. It was still early in the morning, not even 6 and the greyish twilight of an overcast autumn-dawn hardly managed to lighten up the room.
Almost noiseless the scolded left his patch of darkness, stepping further into the room, a little mischievous smirk somewhat easing, softening the hawkish, scarred features of a face framed by the blackness of a large black hood and scarf.
A morose huff was the response to the lasting silence before Basso took another sip from his mug gracing his, well... friend - he supposed he could call the Master Thief like that- with an annoyed look.
"Alright… - So, got what I asked you for?"
Garrett by now leaning with his back against the kitchen cabinet next to the table nodded briefly, his grin widening slightly - "Sure - ever gave you reason to doubt me? - Here..."
With that he pulled a little, dark-red, velvet satchel out of one of the numerous hidden pockets sewn into his harness and tossed it over to the table where it almost landed inside the steaming pot of porridge sitting in front of the sturdy fence. – Another hefty curse commented this action, making the thin smirk on Garrett´s face evolve into a full-blown, broad, mischievous grin.
“Sometimes I really wonder how old you are….”- Basso retorted, only to receive a deadpan comeback from the Thief which nearly made him choke a second time, “Actually I do, too… sometimes…”
Without any further comments Basso pulled open the little bag – and almost immediately a broad smile appeared underneath the poorly trimmed beard of the "Antiques-dealer".
Specks of reddish light danced across his stubbly cheeks emerging from the content he now was turning in front of his face: an almost egg-sized ruby.
"Blimey! – That´s nice, darn nice indeed... so that's the Bloody Tear of the Alhambra... my client will be very happy to have it back." He almost purred -
"And I will be very happy to receive my share of the money. 70 percent, you don't forget that, do you?" Garrett gave back seemingly rather unimpressed by his loot.
"Yeah, yeah… of course, as soon as I got it you will receive your share - I suppose in cash as always?"
With a silent nod the Thief detached himself from the cupboard.
"Well, then - it's time for me", and with that he moved towards the corner of the room where he let himself in through the still open window where now streaks of a pinkish shimmer attempted to break through the greyish twilight of dawn.
"I know how to get in touch… - and please, use the door, will ya, .. please?... Garrett?... Garr...?... Sneaky bugger! - Still, a good day, well, night... sleep...whatever… to you" Basso told the empty room as the lithe figure of his partner in crime was already gone - as silently and unnoticeably as he appeared; almost as if he´d dissolved in thin air or became one of the shadows – latter indeed was not too far-fetched at all.
Caution some mild (yeah, in my book that is still mild ;P) swearing ahead - ))
"Good morning" - Basso almost choked on his coffee when he was greeted so suddenly from behind... – inside the kitchen of his flat located on the fourth floor of the building, without anyone having officially entered the room or even the whole flat before... – well, more correctly, with no-one having entered the room through any of the doors before.
"Garrett! I swear one day I will simply die of a bloody heart-attack or by chocking on something and it will be all your fault! - Darnit, why can´t you knock, ring, shout, whatever… and above all use a damned door like any normal person..... ". The stocky owner of the apartment and the little Antiques-shop on the ground floor of the building cursed while turning towards the slender, dark figure lingering just barely visible in a shadowy corner on the far side of the room. It was still early in the morning, not even 6 and the greyish twilight of an overcast autumn-dawn hardly managed to lighten up the room.
Almost noiseless the scolded left his patch of darkness, stepping further into the room, a little mischievous smirk somewhat easing, softening the hawkish, scarred features of a face framed by the blackness of a large black hood and scarf.
A morose huff was the response to the lasting silence before Basso took another sip from his mug gracing his, well... friend - he supposed he could call the Master Thief like that- with an annoyed look.
"Alright… - So, got what I asked you for?"
Garrett by now leaning with his back against the kitchen cabinet next to the table nodded briefly, his grin widening slightly - "Sure - ever gave you reason to doubt me? - Here..."
With that he pulled a little, dark-red, velvet satchel out of one of the numerous hidden pockets sewn into his harness and tossed it over to the table where it almost landed inside the steaming pot of porridge sitting in front of the sturdy fence. – Another hefty curse commented this action, making the thin smirk on Garrett´s face evolve into a full-blown, broad, mischievous grin.
“Sometimes I really wonder how old you are….”- Basso retorted, only to receive a deadpan comeback from the Thief which nearly made him choke a second time, “Actually I do, too… sometimes…”
Without any further comments Basso pulled open the little bag – and almost immediately a broad smile appeared underneath the poorly trimmed beard of the "Antiques-dealer".
Specks of reddish light danced across his stubbly cheeks emerging from the content he now was turning in front of his face: an almost egg-sized ruby.
"Blimey! – That´s nice, darn nice indeed... so that's the Bloody Tear of the Alhambra... my client will be very happy to have it back." He almost purred -
"And I will be very happy to receive my share of the money. 70 percent, you don't forget that, do you?" Garrett gave back seemingly rather unimpressed by his loot.
"Yeah, yeah… of course, as soon as I got it you will receive your share - I suppose in cash as always?"
With a silent nod the Thief detached himself from the cupboard.
"Well, then - it's time for me", and with that he moved towards the corner of the room where he let himself in through the still open window where now streaks of a pinkish shimmer attempted to break through the greyish twilight of dawn.
"I know how to get in touch… - and please, use the door, will ya, .. please?... Garrett?... Garr...?... Sneaky bugger! - Still, a good day, well, night... sleep...whatever… to you" Basso told the empty room as the lithe figure of his partner in crime was already gone - as silently and unnoticeably as he appeared; almost as if he´d dissolved in thin air or became one of the shadows – latter indeed was not too far-fetched at all.
Here's another I hope you'll enjoy. It's a bit different from my last post here.
The scent of burnt grass floated upon the air, the remaining tendrils of the smokey smell laying claim to everything it touched.
It was an accident, that fire, the one that was now dying as it reached the edges of the hay fields dead sprouts, once brown and brittle now either blackened or turned to ash. Miriam was surprised that both her and Percival were unharmed in the blaze, the one that the two set ablaze together. Thank the gods the village wasn't close by. Surely the straw huts would have caught afire on no time.
Firey curls threaten to fall loose of the once tight braids, frizzy tendrils floating on the soft breeze in their escape attempt, a few succeeding while the majority refuse to take the risk and stay in their safe place. "Percival..." voice of soft travels through thin pink lips to land on the air and float upon it's waves, much like the smokey scent, while warm brown eyes inlaid in freckled face scans the surroundings, searching for her accomplice.
The cowardly creature had fled the scene on realization of what the two had done, technically what he had done, and left Miriam to watch alone while the fire raged on to only quickly die off again.
Soft fur brushes against the inside of both the girl's bare calves and a pointy snout tilts upwards so silver eyes set in gray face are able to meet brown gaze. "Learn to control that new found sorcery, wild friend." the melodic voice scolds gently, a slender hand reaching down to stroke at the fur between ears that had laid back slightly, apparently unappreciative of the reprimand. "And don't let anyone catch you doing that again. Surely they'll burn you at the stake..."
A whimper sounds from the foxes throat at the words and the red headed girl chuckles, the sound low and sweet as uncovered feet step over the still warm, crunching grass. "Now friend, take flight to home as I must make haste as well." she calls back to the canine who promptly turns tail and flees to the forest , a final look back at the girl who goes her own way to the village, the fading scent of smoke trailing each being.
The scent of burnt grass floated upon the air, the remaining tendrils of the smokey smell laying claim to everything it touched.
It was an accident, that fire, the one that was now dying as it reached the edges of the hay fields dead sprouts, once brown and brittle now either blackened or turned to ash. Miriam was surprised that both her and Percival were unharmed in the blaze, the one that the two set ablaze together. Thank the gods the village wasn't close by. Surely the straw huts would have caught afire on no time.
Firey curls threaten to fall loose of the once tight braids, frizzy tendrils floating on the soft breeze in their escape attempt, a few succeeding while the majority refuse to take the risk and stay in their safe place. "Percival..." voice of soft travels through thin pink lips to land on the air and float upon it's waves, much like the smokey scent, while warm brown eyes inlaid in freckled face scans the surroundings, searching for her accomplice.
The cowardly creature had fled the scene on realization of what the two had done, technically what he had done, and left Miriam to watch alone while the fire raged on to only quickly die off again.
Soft fur brushes against the inside of both the girl's bare calves and a pointy snout tilts upwards so silver eyes set in gray face are able to meet brown gaze. "Learn to control that new found sorcery, wild friend." the melodic voice scolds gently, a slender hand reaching down to stroke at the fur between ears that had laid back slightly, apparently unappreciative of the reprimand. "And don't let anyone catch you doing that again. Surely they'll burn you at the stake..."
A whimper sounds from the foxes throat at the words and the red headed girl chuckles, the sound low and sweet as uncovered feet step over the still warm, crunching grass. "Now friend, take flight to home as I must make haste as well." she calls back to the canine who promptly turns tail and flees to the forest , a final look back at the girl who goes her own way to the village, the fading scent of smoke trailing each being.
(I forgot the password to the stories I wrote so heres a little thing I wrote for my character’s backstory)
Originally a young fox romping around in the woods of Hokkaido, chasing after fellow foxes and rolling in fields of flowers, life was easy, he was free to do as he pleases and enjoy life at his own pace.
Gradually, he began to notice how large his playmates grew and how there are more than several tinier clones of them jumping around and yipping in place of his friends. Even as his friends died and their children grew up to form packs of their own and die again, leaving their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren to be looked after by Kano, the fox only gained another tail.
With his first tail, came awareness and sentience- but Kano was nothing if not free-spirited, preferring to go about his business without a care in the world. Once he left the pack of foxes which had overtaken the forest, he gained his second tail after letting go of what kept him in this world. More than several decades later with his discovery of tricks and illusions gave him his third tail, and so on and so forth.
“Come and be my messenger,” Offered a young girl proclaiming herself the goddess Inari Okami; Kano looked toward the south and saw humans digging and planting grains of seeds with primitive tools.
“No,” He declined the offer the first time, leaving to explore his little world and taste the freedom and the increasingly delicious and savoury food created by those he came to call humans. He did not gain a tail even after many years, and one day when he came across the same place where he once saw an empty frugal piece of land is now a sea of gold.
“Come and be my messenger,” The girl was there again, now a young woman and even from a distance, the power radiating off her is unmistakeable- only seemed to grow with every stalk of paddy planted in the earth.
Kano accepted this time- what could it hurt? If it infringed on his freedom, he would just disappear again and go back to his old life, no big deal.
‘One year’ he told himself, letting himself sate his curiousity. But one year turned into five, then twenty and before he knew it, wooden houses and sparse villages grew into concrete blocks and a city so crowded that it is difficult to breathe.
Originally a young fox romping around in the woods of Hokkaido, chasing after fellow foxes and rolling in fields of flowers, life was easy, he was free to do as he pleases and enjoy life at his own pace.
Gradually, he began to notice how large his playmates grew and how there are more than several tinier clones of them jumping around and yipping in place of his friends. Even as his friends died and their children grew up to form packs of their own and die again, leaving their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren to be looked after by Kano, the fox only gained another tail.
With his first tail, came awareness and sentience- but Kano was nothing if not free-spirited, preferring to go about his business without a care in the world. Once he left the pack of foxes which had overtaken the forest, he gained his second tail after letting go of what kept him in this world. More than several decades later with his discovery of tricks and illusions gave him his third tail, and so on and so forth.
“Come and be my messenger,” Offered a young girl proclaiming herself the goddess Inari Okami; Kano looked toward the south and saw humans digging and planting grains of seeds with primitive tools.
“No,” He declined the offer the first time, leaving to explore his little world and taste the freedom and the increasingly delicious and savoury food created by those he came to call humans. He did not gain a tail even after many years, and one day when he came across the same place where he once saw an empty frugal piece of land is now a sea of gold.
“Come and be my messenger,” The girl was there again, now a young woman and even from a distance, the power radiating off her is unmistakeable- only seemed to grow with every stalk of paddy planted in the earth.
Kano accepted this time- what could it hurt? If it infringed on his freedom, he would just disappear again and go back to his old life, no big deal.
‘One year’ he told himself, letting himself sate his curiousity. But one year turned into five, then twenty and before he knew it, wooden houses and sparse villages grew into concrete blocks and a city so crowded that it is difficult to breathe.
Abigail_Austin wrote:
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "You need to stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's gonna be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No you don't, honey...no you don't. It's okay. It's okay. Just be still." After 15 minutes of this Gabrielle's body finally began to relax. As she relaxed in his arms, he began to rub her back, and she relaxed even more. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "You need to stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's gonna be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No you don't, honey...no you don't. It's okay. It's okay. Just be still." After 15 minutes of this Gabrielle's body finally began to relax. As she relaxed in his arms, he began to rub her back, and she relaxed even more. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
Oh dang, this is amazing!!
Birdy99 wrote:
Abigail_Austin wrote:
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "You need to stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's gonna be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No you don't, honey...no you don't. It's okay. It's okay. Just be still." After 15 minutes of this Gabrielle's body finally began to relax. As she relaxed in his arms, he began to rub her back, and she relaxed even more. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "You need to stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's gonna be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No you don't, honey...no you don't. It's okay. It's okay. Just be still." After 15 minutes of this Gabrielle's body finally began to relax. As she relaxed in his arms, he began to rub her back, and she relaxed even more. Eventually, she fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
Oh dang, this is amazing!!
awww thanks birdy99, that means a lot to me.
PastelGalaxy wrote:
Here's another I hope you'll enjoy. It's a bit different from my last post here.
The scent of burnt grass floated upon the air, the remaining tendrils of the smokey smell laying claim to everything it touched.
It was an accident, that fire, the one that was now dying as it reached the edges of the hay fields dead sprouts, once brown and brittle now either blackened or turned to ash. Miriam was surprised that both her and Percival were unharmed in the blaze, the one that the two set ablaze together. Thank the gods the village wasn't close by. Surely the straw huts would have caught afire on no time.
Firey curls threaten to fall loose of the once tight braids, frizzy tendrils floating on the soft breeze in their escape attempt, a few succeeding while the majority refuse to take the risk and stay in their safe place. "Percival..." voice of soft travels through thin pink lips to land on the air and float upon it's waves, much like the smokey scent, while warm brown eyes inlaid in freckled face scans the surroundings, searching for her accomplice.
The cowardly creature had fled the scene on realization of what the two had done, technically what he had done, and left Miriam to watch alone while the fire raged on to only quickly die off again.
Soft fur brushes against the inside of both the girl's bare calves and a pointy snout tilts upwards so silver eyes set in gray face are able to meet brown gaze. "Learn to control that new found sorcery, wild friend." the melodic voice scolds gently, a slender hand reaching down to stroke at the fur between ears that had laid back slightly, apparently unappreciative of the reprimand. "And don't let anyone catch you doing that again. Surely they'll burn you at the stake..."
A whimper sounds from the foxes throat at the words and the red headed girl chuckles, the sound low and sweet as uncovered feet step over the still warm, crunching grass. "Now friend, take flight to home as I must make haste as well." she calls back to the canine who promptly turns tail and flees to the forest , a final look back at the girl who goes her own way to the village, the fading scent of smoke trailing each being.
The scent of burnt grass floated upon the air, the remaining tendrils of the smokey smell laying claim to everything it touched.
It was an accident, that fire, the one that was now dying as it reached the edges of the hay fields dead sprouts, once brown and brittle now either blackened or turned to ash. Miriam was surprised that both her and Percival were unharmed in the blaze, the one that the two set ablaze together. Thank the gods the village wasn't close by. Surely the straw huts would have caught afire on no time.
Firey curls threaten to fall loose of the once tight braids, frizzy tendrils floating on the soft breeze in their escape attempt, a few succeeding while the majority refuse to take the risk and stay in their safe place. "Percival..." voice of soft travels through thin pink lips to land on the air and float upon it's waves, much like the smokey scent, while warm brown eyes inlaid in freckled face scans the surroundings, searching for her accomplice.
The cowardly creature had fled the scene on realization of what the two had done, technically what he had done, and left Miriam to watch alone while the fire raged on to only quickly die off again.
Soft fur brushes against the inside of both the girl's bare calves and a pointy snout tilts upwards so silver eyes set in gray face are able to meet brown gaze. "Learn to control that new found sorcery, wild friend." the melodic voice scolds gently, a slender hand reaching down to stroke at the fur between ears that had laid back slightly, apparently unappreciative of the reprimand. "And don't let anyone catch you doing that again. Surely they'll burn you at the stake..."
A whimper sounds from the foxes throat at the words and the red headed girl chuckles, the sound low and sweet as uncovered feet step over the still warm, crunching grass. "Now friend, take flight to home as I must make haste as well." she calls back to the canine who promptly turns tail and flees to the forest , a final look back at the girl who goes her own way to the village, the fading scent of smoke trailing each being.
GIRL, I love this! I love your writing. It's so pretty. I like how you unfold the details slowly, bit by bit, not forced and I love all the imagery/sensory detail. So beautiful. Thanks for sharing this.
Another Hurt Comfort Story (a little darker)
The Lady in the Hall
Trigger warning for mental health problems and a mental hospital setting.
“Please,” she said. Her face was screwed up in an expression of pain, and her voice was more whisper than voice. Tears streamed down her face as she knelt in front of him. “Please,” she begged. Her body suddenly shook with sobs and she tried not to double over, but her neck contracted, bringing her chin to her chest and her eyes flew closed as she silently shook.
Richard’s heart went out to her. He wanted to help her. He cast a wary eye up and down the corridor, looking out for nurses and orderlies, but the halls were clear. It seemed a strange place to kneel down: on the floor, right in the middle of the squeaky clean hallway of the Red Wing of San Jacinto Behavioral Health Unit, but he couldn’t leave her there like that. He found he couldn’t just pass her by.
Richard dropped down to his knees in front of her, and she heard the motion. It broke her out of her inward trip, and her blue eyes opened onto him. The tears had never stopped coming and, again, they filled her glistening eyes as soon as she opened them. Her blue eyes met his brown eyes and his frown deepened, creating a concerned crease between his eyebrows.
Her eyes didn’t waver from his.
“Please,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling. She drew a deep breath in. “Pleeeeaaaase,” she repeated, exhaling the breath. The word came out long and low, more like a moan.
“Please—what?” Richard asked her softly. “What are you asking me for?” She just stared at him. Waiting. Hoping. She couldn’t ask him. She couldn’t ask him—no. She wasn’t allowed to ask. That would ruin it. That would ruin everything. Then, it wouldn’t work. No, she couldn’t ask him. He had to guess.
A minute passed in silence until she grew anxious. Anxious that he was going to leave. Anxious that he wasn’t going to help her. Queasiness rose up in her stomach, and fear stole her breath away as she tried to breath deeply, but couldn’t, and she began to panic. Her face scrunched up again and a fresh round of tears fell from her eyes. She gasped in a breath of air, letting out a sound that was voiced but wasn’t a word nor a cry – it was simply a stray sound that had escaped in her desperate quest for air.
“Please,” she urged, the word fully voiced now, strangely coherent. Oddly clear. But then, the shaking overtook her body again, her tears increased and her voice was again reduced to a whisper, as if all the hope and power had gone out of her. She had remembered her utter helplessness—that she was completely at his mercy. “Please,” she whispered, her chin lowering to her chest again as she burst into a fit of sobs.
“Ooooh, man,” Richard breathed, cringing as he watched her. “Ooooh, no, no, no.” He didn’t understand what was going on inside her, but he had to do something. It was instinctive.
He reached out hesitantly and put his hand on her shoulder. Her arms were nowhere to be seen. They were pressed unnaturally across the front of her body, within the long sleeves that held them tightly in place, which were tied together into a solid knot behind her back. But her shoulders were visible, and he grabbed her shoulder with his left hand, his tan skin standing out colorfully against the sheer white material underneath it. His right hand found her right shoulder, and as she continued to silently shake, Richard pulled her into his arms.
The shaking didn’t stop right away. His body warmed her. His arms felt soft but firm around her, and allowed her to breathe again. But still she cried. She cried from the tenderness of simply being touched, and she cried from the relief that she was finally in his arms, and she cried from the fear that any second...he might...let go.
Richard held her tightly as she cried. Her body shook within his arms. The front of his shirt grew damp. His cheek rested atop her head, against her shiny, golden-blonde hair.
He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say. He didn’t even know what was wrong. He only knew that she was scared, and that was reason enough for him to hold her.
Gradually, bit by bit, her crying stopped. The shaking stopped. Her body grew still. But still, he held her. He didn’t think it wise to let go. Richard wrestled within himself about whether or not to speak. She was no longer crying. She was no longer begging. She seemed almost calm. He dreaded even to move a finger. But he did. He knew his knees couldn’t hold out forever. They were already aching from pressing too long against the smooth, hard floor of the hallway. He drew in a breath to speak, but the girl spoke first.
“It makes the voices go away,” she stated. Her voice sounded small. Far away. Above her head, out of sight, Richard’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“This?” Richard asked, squeezing her a little.
“Yes,” she said. “But it only works when I don’t ask. Asking is against the rules.”
“Who’s rules?” Richard asked. She was silent for a moment.
“I don’t know how to explain,” she admitted finally. Richard closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on how her body felt in his arms and not on the pain radiating from his knees.
“Does it have to be in the hall?” Richard asked. She laughed.
“No,” she said softly.
“Then why don’t we get up?” he suggested. She let out a slow, shaky breath.
“Okay, but don’t let go,” she pleaded.
“I won’t. I promise,” he answered, and he felt a peculiar ache in his chest. Not a physical ache. An emotional ache. Right in his heart.
Carefully, they stood up together and backed out of the hallway into her room. Just inside the door, they stopped, his knees no longer hurting, and they stood behind the closed door, still locked in their unbroken embrace. After a few minutes of silence, he got up the courage to ask.
“What do the voices say?” he asked her.
“Lies,” she answered, after a moment. “Most of the time, I can ignore them, but today—” he voice broke suddenly, and she began sobbing again.
“Okay—okay—” Richard said, sorry that he asked. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding her tighter. He wanted to tell her that it would be okay, but he didn’t really know that it would.
“Shhhhh,” he soothed instead. “Shhhh....I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
As her breathing steadied, they fell once more into a calm silence. He wanted to ask what the jacket was for, but he didn’t dare. Slowly, the realization dawned on him that they weren’t going to be able to stay like this forever.
“At some point,” he began carefully, “when I let go—”
“Don’t let go!” she begged.
“I won’t,” he assured her, tightening his grip around her, “I won’t. But...if I had to, they—they would come back?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “They will come back.” She used the present tense consciously, knowing all too well that this reprieve would not last.
They fell into silence again, eventually inching their way over to the bed. Richard knew they would be looking for him. He didn’t care. An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Her crying began again as soon as she heard it. Richard rubbed her back and fervently whispered to her words of comfort. But, inevitably, the nurse came in, with her medication cart, and demanded to know why Richard was there. She called another nurse and, together, they pulled him away. They pulled him away, violently, and pushed him out of the room. And the heavy wooden door slammed shut, with her behind it. And with him on the other side.
The Lady in the Hall
Trigger warning for mental health problems and a mental hospital setting.
~
“Please,” she said. Her face was screwed up in an expression of pain, and her voice was more whisper than voice. Tears streamed down her face as she knelt in front of him. “Please,” she begged. Her body suddenly shook with sobs and she tried not to double over, but her neck contracted, bringing her chin to her chest and her eyes flew closed as she silently shook.
Richard’s heart went out to her. He wanted to help her. He cast a wary eye up and down the corridor, looking out for nurses and orderlies, but the halls were clear. It seemed a strange place to kneel down: on the floor, right in the middle of the squeaky clean hallway of the Red Wing of San Jacinto Behavioral Health Unit, but he couldn’t leave her there like that. He found he couldn’t just pass her by.
Richard dropped down to his knees in front of her, and she heard the motion. It broke her out of her inward trip, and her blue eyes opened onto him. The tears had never stopped coming and, again, they filled her glistening eyes as soon as she opened them. Her blue eyes met his brown eyes and his frown deepened, creating a concerned crease between his eyebrows.
Her eyes didn’t waver from his.
“Please,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling. She drew a deep breath in. “Pleeeeaaaase,” she repeated, exhaling the breath. The word came out long and low, more like a moan.
“Please—what?” Richard asked her softly. “What are you asking me for?” She just stared at him. Waiting. Hoping. She couldn’t ask him. She couldn’t ask him—no. She wasn’t allowed to ask. That would ruin it. That would ruin everything. Then, it wouldn’t work. No, she couldn’t ask him. He had to guess.
A minute passed in silence until she grew anxious. Anxious that he was going to leave. Anxious that he wasn’t going to help her. Queasiness rose up in her stomach, and fear stole her breath away as she tried to breath deeply, but couldn’t, and she began to panic. Her face scrunched up again and a fresh round of tears fell from her eyes. She gasped in a breath of air, letting out a sound that was voiced but wasn’t a word nor a cry – it was simply a stray sound that had escaped in her desperate quest for air.
“Please,” she urged, the word fully voiced now, strangely coherent. Oddly clear. But then, the shaking overtook her body again, her tears increased and her voice was again reduced to a whisper, as if all the hope and power had gone out of her. She had remembered her utter helplessness—that she was completely at his mercy. “Please,” she whispered, her chin lowering to her chest again as she burst into a fit of sobs.
“Ooooh, man,” Richard breathed, cringing as he watched her. “Ooooh, no, no, no.” He didn’t understand what was going on inside her, but he had to do something. It was instinctive.
He reached out hesitantly and put his hand on her shoulder. Her arms were nowhere to be seen. They were pressed unnaturally across the front of her body, within the long sleeves that held them tightly in place, which were tied together into a solid knot behind her back. But her shoulders were visible, and he grabbed her shoulder with his left hand, his tan skin standing out colorfully against the sheer white material underneath it. His right hand found her right shoulder, and as she continued to silently shake, Richard pulled her into his arms.
The shaking didn’t stop right away. His body warmed her. His arms felt soft but firm around her, and allowed her to breathe again. But still she cried. She cried from the tenderness of simply being touched, and she cried from the relief that she was finally in his arms, and she cried from the fear that any second...he might...let go.
Richard held her tightly as she cried. Her body shook within his arms. The front of his shirt grew damp. His cheek rested atop her head, against her shiny, golden-blonde hair.
He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say. He didn’t even know what was wrong. He only knew that she was scared, and that was reason enough for him to hold her.
Gradually, bit by bit, her crying stopped. The shaking stopped. Her body grew still. But still, he held her. He didn’t think it wise to let go. Richard wrestled within himself about whether or not to speak. She was no longer crying. She was no longer begging. She seemed almost calm. He dreaded even to move a finger. But he did. He knew his knees couldn’t hold out forever. They were already aching from pressing too long against the smooth, hard floor of the hallway. He drew in a breath to speak, but the girl spoke first.
“It makes the voices go away,” she stated. Her voice sounded small. Far away. Above her head, out of sight, Richard’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“This?” Richard asked, squeezing her a little.
“Yes,” she said. “But it only works when I don’t ask. Asking is against the rules.”
“Who’s rules?” Richard asked. She was silent for a moment.
“I don’t know how to explain,” she admitted finally. Richard closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on how her body felt in his arms and not on the pain radiating from his knees.
“Does it have to be in the hall?” Richard asked. She laughed.
“No,” she said softly.
“Then why don’t we get up?” he suggested. She let out a slow, shaky breath.
“Okay, but don’t let go,” she pleaded.
“I won’t. I promise,” he answered, and he felt a peculiar ache in his chest. Not a physical ache. An emotional ache. Right in his heart.
Carefully, they stood up together and backed out of the hallway into her room. Just inside the door, they stopped, his knees no longer hurting, and they stood behind the closed door, still locked in their unbroken embrace. After a few minutes of silence, he got up the courage to ask.
“What do the voices say?” he asked her.
“Lies,” she answered, after a moment. “Most of the time, I can ignore them, but today—” he voice broke suddenly, and she began sobbing again.
“Okay—okay—” Richard said, sorry that he asked. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding her tighter. He wanted to tell her that it would be okay, but he didn’t really know that it would.
“Shhhhh,” he soothed instead. “Shhhh....I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
As her breathing steadied, they fell once more into a calm silence. He wanted to ask what the jacket was for, but he didn’t dare. Slowly, the realization dawned on him that they weren’t going to be able to stay like this forever.
“At some point,” he began carefully, “when I let go—”
“Don’t let go!” she begged.
“I won’t,” he assured her, tightening his grip around her, “I won’t. But...if I had to, they—they would come back?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “They will come back.” She used the present tense consciously, knowing all too well that this reprieve would not last.
They fell into silence again, eventually inching their way over to the bed. Richard knew they would be looking for him. He didn’t care. An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Her crying began again as soon as she heard it. Richard rubbed her back and fervently whispered to her words of comfort. But, inevitably, the nurse came in, with her medication cart, and demanded to know why Richard was there. She called another nurse and, together, they pulled him away. They pulled him away, violently, and pushed him out of the room. And the heavy wooden door slammed shut, with her behind it. And with him on the other side.
~
Abigail_Austin wrote:
PastelGalaxy wrote:
Here's another I hope you'll enjoy. It's a bit different from my last post here.
The scent of burnt grass floated upon the air, the remaining tendrils of the smokey smell laying claim to everything it touched.
It was an accident, that fire, the one that was now dying as it reached the edges of the hay fields dead sprouts, once brown and brittle now either blackened or turned to ash. Miriam was surprised that both her and Percival were unharmed in the blaze, the one that the two set ablaze together. Thank the gods the village wasn't close by. Surely the straw huts would have caught afire on no time.
Firey curls threaten to fall loose of the once tight braids, frizzy tendrils floating on the soft breeze in their escape attempt, a few succeeding while the majority refuse to take the risk and stay in their safe place. "Percival..." voice of soft travels through thin pink lips to land on the air and float upon it's waves, much like the smokey scent, while warm brown eyes inlaid in freckled face scans the surroundings, searching for her accomplice.
The cowardly creature had fled the scene on realization of what the two had done, technically what he had done, and left Miriam to watch alone while the fire raged on to only quickly die off again.
Soft fur brushes against the inside of both the girl's bare calves and a pointy snout tilts upwards so silver eyes set in gray face are able to meet brown gaze. "Learn to control that new found sorcery, wild friend." the melodic voice scolds gently, a slender hand reaching down to stroke at the fur between ears that had laid back slightly, apparently unappreciative of the reprimand. "And don't let anyone catch you doing that again. Surely they'll burn you at the stake..."
A whimper sounds from the foxes throat at the words and the red headed girl chuckles, the sound low and sweet as uncovered feet step over the still warm, crunching grass. "Now friend, take flight to home as I must make haste as well." she calls back to the canine who promptly turns tail and flees to the forest , a final look back at the girl who goes her own way to the village, the fading scent of smoke trailing each being.
The scent of burnt grass floated upon the air, the remaining tendrils of the smokey smell laying claim to everything it touched.
It was an accident, that fire, the one that was now dying as it reached the edges of the hay fields dead sprouts, once brown and brittle now either blackened or turned to ash. Miriam was surprised that both her and Percival were unharmed in the blaze, the one that the two set ablaze together. Thank the gods the village wasn't close by. Surely the straw huts would have caught afire on no time.
Firey curls threaten to fall loose of the once tight braids, frizzy tendrils floating on the soft breeze in their escape attempt, a few succeeding while the majority refuse to take the risk and stay in their safe place. "Percival..." voice of soft travels through thin pink lips to land on the air and float upon it's waves, much like the smokey scent, while warm brown eyes inlaid in freckled face scans the surroundings, searching for her accomplice.
The cowardly creature had fled the scene on realization of what the two had done, technically what he had done, and left Miriam to watch alone while the fire raged on to only quickly die off again.
Soft fur brushes against the inside of both the girl's bare calves and a pointy snout tilts upwards so silver eyes set in gray face are able to meet brown gaze. "Learn to control that new found sorcery, wild friend." the melodic voice scolds gently, a slender hand reaching down to stroke at the fur between ears that had laid back slightly, apparently unappreciative of the reprimand. "And don't let anyone catch you doing that again. Surely they'll burn you at the stake..."
A whimper sounds from the foxes throat at the words and the red headed girl chuckles, the sound low and sweet as uncovered feet step over the still warm, crunching grass. "Now friend, take flight to home as I must make haste as well." she calls back to the canine who promptly turns tail and flees to the forest , a final look back at the girl who goes her own way to the village, the fading scent of smoke trailing each being.
GIRL, I love this! I love your writing. It's so pretty. I like how you unfold the details slowly, bit by bit, not forced and I love all the imagery/sensory detail. So beautiful. Thanks for sharing this.
I actually referred to a promt for this. Love all the different ones there are out there
Birdy99 wrote:
(I forgot the password to the stories I wrote so heres a little thing I wrote for my character’s backstory)
Originally a young fox romping around in the woods of Hokkaido, chasing after fellow foxes and rolling in fields of flowers, life was easy, he was free to do as he pleases and enjoy life at his own pace.
Gradually, he began to notice how large his playmates grew and how there are more than several tinier clones of them jumping around and yipping in place of his friends. Even as his friends died and their children grew up to form packs of their own and die again, leaving their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren to be looked after by Kano, the fox only gained another tail.
With his first tail, came awareness and sentience- but Kano was nothing if not free-spirited, preferring to go about his business without a care in the world. Once he left the pack of foxes which had overtaken the forest, he gained his second tail after letting go of what kept him in this world. More than several decades later with his discovery of tricks and illusions gave him his third tail, and so on and so forth.
“Come and be my messenger,” Offered a young girl proclaiming herself the goddess Inari Okami; Kano looked toward the south and saw humans digging and planting grains of seeds with primitive tools.
“No,” He declined the offer the first time, leaving to explore his little world and taste the freedom and the increasingly delicious and savoury food created by those he came to call humans. He did not gain a tail even after many years, and one day when he came across the same place where he once saw an empty frugal piece of land is now a sea of gold.
“Come and be my messenger,” The girl was there again, now a young woman and even from a distance, the power radiating off her is unmistakeable- only seemed to grow with every stalk of paddy planted in the earth.
Kano accepted this time- what could it hurt? If it infringed on his freedom, he would just disappear again and go back to his old life, no big deal.
‘One year’ he told himself, letting himself sate his curiousity. But one year turned into five, then twenty and before he knew it, wooden houses and sparse villages grew into concrete blocks and a city so crowded that it is difficult to breathe.
Originally a young fox romping around in the woods of Hokkaido, chasing after fellow foxes and rolling in fields of flowers, life was easy, he was free to do as he pleases and enjoy life at his own pace.
Gradually, he began to notice how large his playmates grew and how there are more than several tinier clones of them jumping around and yipping in place of his friends. Even as his friends died and their children grew up to form packs of their own and die again, leaving their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren to be looked after by Kano, the fox only gained another tail.
With his first tail, came awareness and sentience- but Kano was nothing if not free-spirited, preferring to go about his business without a care in the world. Once he left the pack of foxes which had overtaken the forest, he gained his second tail after letting go of what kept him in this world. More than several decades later with his discovery of tricks and illusions gave him his third tail, and so on and so forth.
“Come and be my messenger,” Offered a young girl proclaiming herself the goddess Inari Okami; Kano looked toward the south and saw humans digging and planting grains of seeds with primitive tools.
“No,” He declined the offer the first time, leaving to explore his little world and taste the freedom and the increasingly delicious and savoury food created by those he came to call humans. He did not gain a tail even after many years, and one day when he came across the same place where he once saw an empty frugal piece of land is now a sea of gold.
“Come and be my messenger,” The girl was there again, now a young woman and even from a distance, the power radiating off her is unmistakeable- only seemed to grow with every stalk of paddy planted in the earth.
Kano accepted this time- what could it hurt? If it infringed on his freedom, he would just disappear again and go back to his old life, no big deal.
‘One year’ he told himself, letting himself sate his curiousity. But one year turned into five, then twenty and before he knew it, wooden houses and sparse villages grew into concrete blocks and a city so crowded that it is difficult to breathe.
Hey, Birdy99, I just NOW noticed this story for some reason. Anyway, just wanted to say...I like it! It's good... supernatural beings watching the development of human encroachment on the wilderness...very interesting theme...
Inevitable Stillness
Abigail_Austin wrote:
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't. You can do it later," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well yeah, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "Just stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. It's going to be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle looked at him and suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No, you don't, honey. No you don't. It's okay. Just be still. Just be still."
She sighed, a sound of exasperation, as she tried let his arms still her restless body. She shook her head, and bit her lip. Letting out a whimper, she finally gave in, and instead of struggling to get out of his arms she burrowed deeper into them. She buried her head into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him as tightly as she could, with all of her strength.
She wanted to get up, she wanted to move, but she channelled all that energy instead into holding his body as tight as she could.
"That's it..." Jonathan said, as he felt her body relax in his arms. He rubbed her back. "That's it, darling."
She sobbed softly into his chest.
"You're doing great," he said, softly. "Shhhh...shhh...it's okay. It's going to be okay."
Jonathan's hands massaged his wife's back in a repetitive, rhythmic pattern, back and forth. Her sobs slowed down. Her breathing slowed down. Even her mind slowed down.
"That's it...just be still," her husband whispered. "Just be still.
Just.
Be.
Still."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly surrendered to the inevitable stillness and space and silence which had been so terrifying to her a few moments before. Under the hypnotic spell of his soothing touches, she finally fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't. You can do it later," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well yeah, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "Just stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. It's going to be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle looked at him and suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No, you don't, honey. No you don't. It's okay. Just be still. Just be still."
She sighed, a sound of exasperation, as she tried let his arms still her restless body. She shook her head, and bit her lip. Letting out a whimper, she finally gave in, and instead of struggling to get out of his arms she burrowed deeper into them. She buried her head into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him as tightly as she could, with all of her strength.
She wanted to get up, she wanted to move, but she channelled all that energy instead into holding his body as tight as she could.
"That's it..." Jonathan said, as he felt her body relax in his arms. He rubbed her back. "That's it, darling."
She sobbed softly into his chest.
"You're doing great," he said, softly. "Shhhh...shhh...it's okay. It's going to be okay."
Jonathan's hands massaged his wife's back in a repetitive, rhythmic pattern, back and forth. Her sobs slowed down. Her breathing slowed down. Even her mind slowed down.
"That's it...just be still," her husband whispered. "Just be still.
Just.
Be.
Still."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly surrendered to the inevitable stillness and space and silence which had been so terrifying to her a few moments before. Under the hypnotic spell of his soothing touches, she finally fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
This... Was really good...
Thank you for sharing Abigail...
iolhantheX wrote:
Inevitable Stillness
Abigail_Austin wrote:
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't. You can do it later," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well yeah, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "Just stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. It's going to be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle looked at him and suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No, you don't, honey. No you don't. It's okay. Just be still. Just be still."
She sighed, a sound of exasperation, as she tried let his arms still her restless body. She shook her head, and bit her lip. Letting out a whimper, she finally gave in, and instead of struggling to get out of his arms she burrowed deeper into them. She buried her head into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him as tightly as she could, with all of her strength.
She wanted to get up, she wanted to move, but she channelled all that energy instead into holding his body as tight as she could.
"That's it..." Jonathan said, as he felt her body relax in his arms. He rubbed her back. "That's it, darling."
She sobbed softly into his chest.
"You're doing great," he said, softly. "Shhhh...shhh...it's okay. It's going to be okay."
Jonathan's hands massaged his wife's back in a repetitive, rhythmic pattern, back and forth. Her sobs slowed down. Her breathing slowed down. Even her mind slowed down.
"That's it...just be still," her husband whispered. "Just be still.
Just.
Be.
Still."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly surrendered to the inevitable stillness and space and silence which had been so terrifying to her a few moments before. Under the hypnotic spell of his soothing touches, she finally fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't. You can do it later," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well yeah, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "Just stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. It's going to be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle looked at him and suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No, you don't, honey. No you don't. It's okay. Just be still. Just be still."
She sighed, a sound of exasperation, as she tried let his arms still her restless body. She shook her head, and bit her lip. Letting out a whimper, she finally gave in, and instead of struggling to get out of his arms she burrowed deeper into them. She buried her head into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him as tightly as she could, with all of her strength.
She wanted to get up, she wanted to move, but she channelled all that energy instead into holding his body as tight as she could.
"That's it..." Jonathan said, as he felt her body relax in his arms. He rubbed her back. "That's it, darling."
She sobbed softly into his chest.
"You're doing great," he said, softly. "Shhhh...shhh...it's okay. It's going to be okay."
Jonathan's hands massaged his wife's back in a repetitive, rhythmic pattern, back and forth. Her sobs slowed down. Her breathing slowed down. Even her mind slowed down.
"That's it...just be still," her husband whispered. "Just be still.
Just.
Be.
Still."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly surrendered to the inevitable stillness and space and silence which had been so terrifying to her a few moments before. Under the hypnotic spell of his soothing touches, she finally fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
This... Was really good...
Thank you for sharing Abigail...
Aww...thank you iolhantheX. I'm so glad you read it and enjoyed it. Speaking of compliments, I've been wanting to give you one, actually. I've been trying to figure out how to phrase it. What I want to say is that I like the way that you write actions. It's...like... impactful? I guess that's the word? I don't know how to explain it. I haven't seen a lot of your writing but I've seen enough to know that I like it!
Abigail_Austin wrote:
iolhantheX wrote:
Inevitable Stillness
Abigail_Austin wrote:
A Hurt/Comfort Story
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't. You can do it later," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well yeah, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "Just stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. It's going to be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle looked at him and suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No, you don't, honey. No you don't. It's okay. Just be still. Just be still."
She sighed, a sound of exasperation, as she tried let his arms still her restless body. She shook her head, and bit her lip. Letting out a whimper, she finally gave in, and instead of struggling to get out of his arms she burrowed deeper into them. She buried her head into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him as tightly as she could, with all of her strength.
She wanted to get up, she wanted to move, but she channelled all that energy instead into holding his body as tight as she could.
"That's it..." Jonathan said, as he felt her body relax in his arms. He rubbed her back. "That's it, darling."
She sobbed softly into his chest.
"You're doing great," he said, softly. "Shhhh...shhh...it's okay. It's going to be okay."
Jonathan's hands massaged his wife's back in a repetitive, rhythmic pattern, back and forth. Her sobs slowed down. Her breathing slowed down. Even her mind slowed down.
"That's it...just be still," her husband whispered. "Just be still.
Just.
Be.
Still."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly surrendered to the inevitable stillness and space and silence which had been so terrifying to her a few moments before. Under the hypnotic spell of his soothing touches, she finally fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
It was Saturday morning. Jonathan woke up when he heard papers being shuffled around him. He opened his eyes slightly and saw his wife's form moving through the room.
"Gabrielle," he mumbled. "What're you doing?"
"I'm organizing all of our user manuals," she answered, walking briskly to the end table next to his side of the bed, grabbing a paper off of it, and spinning around to place it into an accordion file she had sitting on the dresser on the opposite wall. She tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear before examining the manual in her hand, and filing it.
"Why?" Jonathan inquired.
"Well, I our user manuals were all a mess," Gabrielle explained. "There were some on the end table, some in the closet, some in the kitchen. I need to put them all in one place, and in alphabetical order." She continued filing the stack of manuals she had gathered.
Jonathan shuged.
"Okay," he said, and he turned over and went back to sleep. He woke up two hours later and went into the kitchen. He cooked breakfast and put it on the dining room table then walked around the apartment.
"Gabrielle!" Jonathan called. "Gabrielle?
He checked all the rooms but she was not in any of them. He opened the door and looked outside. The tall, blonde woman was bent over, pulling weeds out of the ground.
"Breakfast is ready. Whatcha doing out here?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Gabrielle looked up. The left side of her forehead had a smear of mud across it, and with her hands were covered in soil. She smiled at him kindly, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun.
"I just need to pull up these weeds," Gabrielle explained.
"You really don't need to, Gabby. The maintenance does that every Monday, and it's Thursday." he replied.
"Oh, I don't mind. It's going to bother me if I leave them here all weekend," she said. "I'll be inside in a little bit."
Jonathan went back inside and ate his breakfast alone. Then he went and sat down in the recliner, in front of the television and flipped through the channels.
Gabrielle burst through the door, sailed past the kitchen, and disappeared in the bathroom. Jonathan muted the television and heard the shower come on.
Alright. That makes sense, he thought. He unmuted the television and started watching the Game Show that was on the channel he had landed on. A while later, Gabrielle emerged from the shower, wrapped up in a pink towel, with a blue towel wrapped around her hair. She headed from the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"Are you going to stop and eat breakfast?" Jonathan called out, and muted the television and listened for her answer. She peeked her wet-haired head out of the cracked bedroom door
"Thank you dear, but I'm not hungry right now. I need to organize the CDs in the CD tower. They're all out of order. Chicago is next to UB40...it's madness," she laughed.
"Okay, honey," he called back.
"I'm going to the store!" Jonathan called out 2 hours and 4 game shows later. He didn't expect Gabrielle to answer. She's probably fallen asleep in there, he thought. She didn't get much sleep last night.
But she answered.
"Okay! Can you pick up some lemon pledge?" he heard her call back. Her voice sounded tired. But at the same time, it sounded clear and present.
"Yes, I can," he agreed, and left for the store. Two-hours-and-a-half hours later, he came back with groceries.
"Here, let me," Gabrielle said, appearing behind him in the kitchen as he put them away. She placed a hand on his back. He turned around to look at her. She was holding the plate from breakfast. Jonathan looked at the plate but no food was missing. "I need to put these leftovers in the fridge anyway," she prodded.
"I can do it," Jonathan said, taking the plate from her. "You've been going and going all day, all last night too. When are you going to rest?"
She smiled weakly at him.
"I feel fine," Gabrielle said. Her eyes looked bloodshot.
"Well, you don't look fine," Jonathan said, frowning at her. "I'm a bit worried about you."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jonathan." she said, playfully pushing him and grinning. "I could still beat you at poker if you dared to play with me. Wanna go? Huh? Wanna go?"
Jonathan stared at her for a moment, not smiling back. Considering.
"Yeah. Let's play poker," he said.
Poker is relaxing. It'll calm her down, Jonathan thought. She'll have to stay in one place. She'll have to sit still.
Gabrielle looked suprised and stood starting at him, silently. Her eyes grew wide, like a doe caught in headlights, and a sudden look of fear filled them for a moment. Gabrielle then backed away, and laughed.
"Oh--I'm just kidding. I have things I need to do. Like putting these groceries away. Did you pick up the Pledge?" she said.
"Yeah..." Jonathan replied softly. He reached into a bag, and pulled it out.
"Oh--thank you!" she said, and she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. "Don't you have to go take that drill back to your brother's today?"
"Yeah..." Jonathan said again.
"Well you should go do that. He's been waiting for it." she urged.
Jonathan stared at her suspiciously.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked.
Gabrielle laughed melodically, but she didn't deny it.
"Alright, I'll go. But when I come back...we're going to both lie down and rest, okay?" he asked.
"Of course!" Gabrielle agreed. "Now, go."
Jonathan spent four hours at his brother's house. When he came home, the sun was setting over the hilltops. He found Gabrielle in the living room, polishing the dining room table with pledge. A surge of worry ran through him. He walked up and stood next to his wife, looking where she was looking.
"Isn't the table polished enough now, Gabby?" he asked her. She looked frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes more bloodshot than when he'd left.
"I need to get rid of this spot," she said.
He looked closer at the table.
"What spot? I don't even see a spot there. There's nothing there!"
She turned to him and sighed.
"It's right there! Don't you see it?"
He looked again. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't see anything, Gabby," he said again.
"Oh, fine," she said, "I need to start on the bedroom dressers," and she picked up the bottle of pledge and started to step away from him. He reached out and clasped his hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward. "You need to rest. You said you'd lie down with me when I came back remember? You said we'd both rest," he reminded her.
Gabrielle's shoulders slouched. She turned around to face him. That same fear filled her eyes again. Jonathan looked into Gabrielle's eyes, gently taking the Pledge bottle out of her hand and placed it on the table. He took the rag out of her hand also, and placed it on the table.
"Come on," he said, nodding towards the bedroom.
Taking her hand, he led her that way and together they lay down on the bed. The sun had barely set.
"Come here," he said, and she snuggled up close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. Her breathing was too fast. He could feel her chest rapidly rising and falling.
A moment of silence passed.
"I need to go water the plants outside," Gabrielle said suddenly, her body tensing as she considered getting up.
"No, you don't. You can do it later," Jonathan said softly, holding her tighter.
"Well yeah, but...I need to put the fire ant killer out today----" she said, her voice rising slightly.
"No, you don't," he whispered. "Just stay right here."
He heard her breath hitch in her throat, and her breathing got shaky. He held her tighter.
"But Jonathan--" she said, her voice catching. "I can't. I can't stop."
"I know," he whispered. "I know. It's going to be okay."
At those words, Gabrielle looked at him and suddenly burst into tears. She buried her head in Jonathan's chest. Once her tears started, she couldn't stop them. They flowed uncontrollably. She clung to him as her body shook, her hand clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for something to hold into.
"I can't..." she spoke in between sobs. "I can't---I can't--I can't--I can't---"
"I know...I know..." Jonathan soothed in a whisper. "Shhhh...shhhh... shhhh... it's okay."
"Please..." she said, trying to get up again. "Please. I need to...I need to..."
"Shhhh..." he whispered as he held her still. "No, you don't, honey. No you don't. It's okay. Just be still. Just be still."
She sighed, a sound of exasperation, as she tried let his arms still her restless body. She shook her head, and bit her lip. Letting out a whimper, she finally gave in, and instead of struggling to get out of his arms she burrowed deeper into them. She buried her head into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him as tightly as she could, with all of her strength.
She wanted to get up, she wanted to move, but she channelled all that energy instead into holding his body as tight as she could.
"That's it..." Jonathan said, as he felt her body relax in his arms. He rubbed her back. "That's it, darling."
She sobbed softly into his chest.
"You're doing great," he said, softly. "Shhhh...shhh...it's okay. It's going to be okay."
Jonathan's hands massaged his wife's back in a repetitive, rhythmic pattern, back and forth. Her sobs slowed down. Her breathing slowed down. Even her mind slowed down.
"That's it...just be still," her husband whispered. "Just be still.
Just.
Be.
Still."
She breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly surrendered to the inevitable stillness and space and silence which had been so terrifying to her a few moments before. Under the hypnotic spell of his soothing touches, she finally fell asleep.
The End.
Note: This short story was inspired by a line in a song: "Sky Full of Song" by Florence and the Machine.
The line goes:
Hold my down, I'm so tired now,
Aim your arrow at the sky.
When I heard it, I got to thinking, "That line doesn't make any sense. Why would someone who's tired need someone to hold them down? Wouldn't they already willingly be lying down?" This short story is the result of me imagining what she might've meant.
Thanks so much for reading!
This... Was really good...
Thank you for sharing Abigail...
Aww...thank you iolhantheX. I'm so glad you read it and enjoyed it. Speaking of compliments, I've been wanting to give you one, actually. I've been trying to figure out how to phrase it. What I want to say is that I like the way that you write actions. It's...like... impactful? I guess that's the word? I don't know how to explain it. I haven't seen a lot of your writing but I've seen enough to know that I like it!
You're welcome, your story held a lot of meaning, I definitely got a different picture than you meant originally (I'm assuming anyway) but, I appreciated it a lot.
Oh lol... *Blushes* Thanks? I'm not sure how to respond to that haha...
iolhantheX wrote:
You're welcome, your story held a lot of meaning, I definitely got a different picture than you meant originally (I'm assuming anyway) but, I appreciated it a lot.
Oh lol... *Blushes* Thanks? I'm not sure how to respond to that haha...
Oh lol... *Blushes* Thanks? I'm not sure how to respond to that haha...
Whatcha mean, a different picture than I meant originally? You mean the title made you think it was a different kind of story?
Hmmm...yeah now that I'm reading the title again I'm like...that sounds like it's about something completely different and darker... Lol. I think I'm going to adjust it actually so it reflects the genre better.
And sorry, sorry. Haha! I give people on here embarrassing compliments all the time. Don't mind me!
Something I started for the "Black and Gold." world:
Introductions and danger
The black haired angel shuddered as he and his commander walked through the dark forest. “Good thing you had that coin or we would have been torn to shreds.” He looked up at the blond hair angel whom chuckled and laid a hand on the lower ranking angel’s shoulder.
“Remember what our Father says about fear, besides, there is no need to worry.” Gabriel smirks, “Adelia wouldn’t let us be attacked without a reason, Mitchel.”
“Sorry, Gabriel.” Mitchel’s wings slumped slightly as they continued down the winding path. The forest seemed to get darker as they got further in, making the younger angel a bit nervous. Gabriel ignored the sounds around them, senses looking for one in particular. However, a smaller form slowly came into view, well, two smaller forms. The first figure was a colt, a blue roan Death Spirit Horse. He was just as skinny as others of his species, and would be just as mean when he grew up. The other figure, whom had a hand on the short, black mane, was 4 feet, 8 inches tall with blue skin, pointed ears, and black eyes. He looked a bit nervous at the sight of the two angels, but relaxed slightly at the sight of the familiar taller angel.
“Hello, Leo, do you know where Adelia is?” Gabriel gave the small reaper a friendly smile. Leo nods and motions to follow him.
“Of course, she’s this way.” He leads the two angels to a large oak tree where a large pair of black wings seem to hang from a branch. Looking up, they would see a figure wearing black sleeping quite comfortably on the large branch. The fedora rose and fell with the female’s steady breathing. The small reaper tipped his head and shouted up to the sleeping figure. “Adelia!” However, he only got sleepy muttering in response. Adelia only stirred slightly, moving her head to another side. Leo then smacked the tree with the flat of his hand, sending a burst of black energy towards the sleeping form. Adelia growled sleepily as she opened her eyes.
“Oh, hello. Let me guess, the book of death?” She groans as she sits up on the branch.
“Afraid so,” Gabriel says with a nod as the black winged angel jumped down in front of them, making Mitchel take a few steps back. Adelia hissed at him, smirking as his eyes widened with fear. Gabriel did not respond to her hiss, if anything, he gave the black angel a slight shake of his head.
“I was trying to take the first decent nap I’ve had in ten years.” She growled with a mixture of irritation and playfulness. Gabriel gave her a smirk of his own.
“We can always come back in another ten years.” He replied with a chuckle; Adelia simply shook her head and walked down a path to the left.
“Nah, come on, the book’s at the Lighthouse.” Before she turned, the angels could see that she was wearing a dark blue long sleeve polo shirt under a black jacket. Adelia lowered her fedora over her eyes as she walked, not waiting for Gabriel and Mitchel to follow. Leo jogged after her, ducking under her right wing as they walked. The two angels followed them to a stone lighthouse on the rocky shores of the mouth of the river. The river emptied into the sea, although very little trade came into the Shadow Lands. “Come in, not very big, but it’s home.” Adelia opened the door for the group to slip inside. She walked towards a large bookshelf and started to browse the books. Adelia turned to the desk and opened a drawer, revealing a glowing, purple book. Taking it out, she opens it, causing grey smoke to pour out. “Name?”
“Darvin Malkins.” Gabriel replied in answer.
However, I kinda lost where I was going, so it is gonna hang. I want to do short stories for this world, but not sure what I wanna start with for intro story...….. plus a certain roleplayer's characters may or may not be fully integrated in the world permanently.
Introductions and danger
The black haired angel shuddered as he and his commander walked through the dark forest. “Good thing you had that coin or we would have been torn to shreds.” He looked up at the blond hair angel whom chuckled and laid a hand on the lower ranking angel’s shoulder.
“Remember what our Father says about fear, besides, there is no need to worry.” Gabriel smirks, “Adelia wouldn’t let us be attacked without a reason, Mitchel.”
“Sorry, Gabriel.” Mitchel’s wings slumped slightly as they continued down the winding path. The forest seemed to get darker as they got further in, making the younger angel a bit nervous. Gabriel ignored the sounds around them, senses looking for one in particular. However, a smaller form slowly came into view, well, two smaller forms. The first figure was a colt, a blue roan Death Spirit Horse. He was just as skinny as others of his species, and would be just as mean when he grew up. The other figure, whom had a hand on the short, black mane, was 4 feet, 8 inches tall with blue skin, pointed ears, and black eyes. He looked a bit nervous at the sight of the two angels, but relaxed slightly at the sight of the familiar taller angel.
“Hello, Leo, do you know where Adelia is?” Gabriel gave the small reaper a friendly smile. Leo nods and motions to follow him.
“Of course, she’s this way.” He leads the two angels to a large oak tree where a large pair of black wings seem to hang from a branch. Looking up, they would see a figure wearing black sleeping quite comfortably on the large branch. The fedora rose and fell with the female’s steady breathing. The small reaper tipped his head and shouted up to the sleeping figure. “Adelia!” However, he only got sleepy muttering in response. Adelia only stirred slightly, moving her head to another side. Leo then smacked the tree with the flat of his hand, sending a burst of black energy towards the sleeping form. Adelia growled sleepily as she opened her eyes.
“Oh, hello. Let me guess, the book of death?” She groans as she sits up on the branch.
“Afraid so,” Gabriel says with a nod as the black winged angel jumped down in front of them, making Mitchel take a few steps back. Adelia hissed at him, smirking as his eyes widened with fear. Gabriel did not respond to her hiss, if anything, he gave the black angel a slight shake of his head.
“I was trying to take the first decent nap I’ve had in ten years.” She growled with a mixture of irritation and playfulness. Gabriel gave her a smirk of his own.
“We can always come back in another ten years.” He replied with a chuckle; Adelia simply shook her head and walked down a path to the left.
“Nah, come on, the book’s at the Lighthouse.” Before she turned, the angels could see that she was wearing a dark blue long sleeve polo shirt under a black jacket. Adelia lowered her fedora over her eyes as she walked, not waiting for Gabriel and Mitchel to follow. Leo jogged after her, ducking under her right wing as they walked. The two angels followed them to a stone lighthouse on the rocky shores of the mouth of the river. The river emptied into the sea, although very little trade came into the Shadow Lands. “Come in, not very big, but it’s home.” Adelia opened the door for the group to slip inside. She walked towards a large bookshelf and started to browse the books. Adelia turned to the desk and opened a drawer, revealing a glowing, purple book. Taking it out, she opens it, causing grey smoke to pour out. “Name?”
“Darvin Malkins.” Gabriel replied in answer.
However, I kinda lost where I was going, so it is gonna hang. I want to do short stories for this world, but not sure what I wanna start with for intro story...….. plus a certain roleplayer's characters may or may not be fully integrated in the world permanently.
North-Wood wrote:
Something I started for the "Black and Gold." world:
Introductions and danger
The black haired angel shuddered as he and his commander walked through the dark forest. “Good thing you had that coin or we would have been torn to shreds.” He looked up at the blond hair angel whom chuckled and laid a hand on the lower ranking angel’s shoulder.
“Remember what our Father says about fear, besides, there is no need to worry.” Gabriel smirks, “Adelia wouldn’t let us be attacked without a reason, Mitchel.”
“Sorry, Gabriel.” Mitchel’s wings slumped slightly as they continued down the winding path. The forest seemed to get darker as they got further in, making the younger angel a bit nervous. Gabriel ignored the sounds around them, senses looking for one in particular. However, a smaller form slowly came into view, well, two smaller forms. The first figure was a colt, a blue roan Death Spirit Horse. He was just as skinny as others of his species, and would be just as mean when he grew up. The other figure, whom had a hand on the short, black mane, was 4 feet, 8 inches tall with blue skin, pointed ears, and black eyes. He looked a bit nervous at the sight of the two angels, but relaxed slightly at the sight of the familiar taller angel.
“Hello, Leo, do you know where Adelia is?” Gabriel gave the small reaper a friendly smile. Leo nods and motions to follow him.
“Of course, she’s this way.” He leads the two angels to a large oak tree where a large pair of black wings seem to hang from a branch. Looking up, they would see a figure wearing black sleeping quite comfortably on the large branch. The fedora rose and fell with the female’s steady breathing. The small reaper tipped his head and shouted up to the sleeping figure. “Adelia!” However, he only got sleepy muttering in response. Adelia only stirred slightly, moving her head to another side. Leo then smacked the tree with the flat of his hand, sending a burst of black energy towards the sleeping form. Adelia growled sleepily as she opened her eyes.
“Oh, hello. Let me guess, the book of death?” She groans as she sits up on the branch.
“Afraid so,” Gabriel says with a nod as the black winged angel jumped down in front of them, making Mitchel take a few steps back. Adelia hissed at him, smirking as his eyes widened with fear. Gabriel did not respond to her hiss, if anything, he gave the black angel a slight shake of his head.
“I was trying to take the first decent nap I’ve had in ten years.” She growled with a mixture of irritation and playfulness. Gabriel gave her a smirk of his own.
“We can always come back in another ten years.” He replied with a chuckle; Adelia simply shook her head and walked down a path to the left.
“Nah, come on, the book’s at the Lighthouse.” Before she turned, the angels could see that she was wearing a dark blue long sleeve polo shirt under a black jacket. Adelia lowered her fedora over her eyes as she walked, not waiting for Gabriel and Mitchel to follow. Leo jogged after her, ducking under her right wing as they walked. The two angels followed them to a stone lighthouse on the rocky shores of the mouth of the river. The river emptied into the sea, although very little trade came into the Shadow Lands. “Come in, not very big, but it’s home.” Adelia opened the door for the group to slip inside. She walked towards a large bookshelf and started to browse the books. Adelia turned to the desk and opened a drawer, revealing a glowing, purple book. Taking it out, she opens it, causing grey smoke to pour out. “Name?”
“Darvin Malkins.” Gabriel replied in answer.
However, I kinda lost where I was going, so it is gonna hang. I want to do short stories for this world, but not sure what I wanna start with for intro story...….. plus a certain roleplayer's characters may or may not be fully integrated in the world permanently.
Introductions and danger
The black haired angel shuddered as he and his commander walked through the dark forest. “Good thing you had that coin or we would have been torn to shreds.” He looked up at the blond hair angel whom chuckled and laid a hand on the lower ranking angel’s shoulder.
“Remember what our Father says about fear, besides, there is no need to worry.” Gabriel smirks, “Adelia wouldn’t let us be attacked without a reason, Mitchel.”
“Sorry, Gabriel.” Mitchel’s wings slumped slightly as they continued down the winding path. The forest seemed to get darker as they got further in, making the younger angel a bit nervous. Gabriel ignored the sounds around them, senses looking for one in particular. However, a smaller form slowly came into view, well, two smaller forms. The first figure was a colt, a blue roan Death Spirit Horse. He was just as skinny as others of his species, and would be just as mean when he grew up. The other figure, whom had a hand on the short, black mane, was 4 feet, 8 inches tall with blue skin, pointed ears, and black eyes. He looked a bit nervous at the sight of the two angels, but relaxed slightly at the sight of the familiar taller angel.
“Hello, Leo, do you know where Adelia is?” Gabriel gave the small reaper a friendly smile. Leo nods and motions to follow him.
“Of course, she’s this way.” He leads the two angels to a large oak tree where a large pair of black wings seem to hang from a branch. Looking up, they would see a figure wearing black sleeping quite comfortably on the large branch. The fedora rose and fell with the female’s steady breathing. The small reaper tipped his head and shouted up to the sleeping figure. “Adelia!” However, he only got sleepy muttering in response. Adelia only stirred slightly, moving her head to another side. Leo then smacked the tree with the flat of his hand, sending a burst of black energy towards the sleeping form. Adelia growled sleepily as she opened her eyes.
“Oh, hello. Let me guess, the book of death?” She groans as she sits up on the branch.
“Afraid so,” Gabriel says with a nod as the black winged angel jumped down in front of them, making Mitchel take a few steps back. Adelia hissed at him, smirking as his eyes widened with fear. Gabriel did not respond to her hiss, if anything, he gave the black angel a slight shake of his head.
“I was trying to take the first decent nap I’ve had in ten years.” She growled with a mixture of irritation and playfulness. Gabriel gave her a smirk of his own.
“We can always come back in another ten years.” He replied with a chuckle; Adelia simply shook her head and walked down a path to the left.
“Nah, come on, the book’s at the Lighthouse.” Before she turned, the angels could see that she was wearing a dark blue long sleeve polo shirt under a black jacket. Adelia lowered her fedora over her eyes as she walked, not waiting for Gabriel and Mitchel to follow. Leo jogged after her, ducking under her right wing as they walked. The two angels followed them to a stone lighthouse on the rocky shores of the mouth of the river. The river emptied into the sea, although very little trade came into the Shadow Lands. “Come in, not very big, but it’s home.” Adelia opened the door for the group to slip inside. She walked towards a large bookshelf and started to browse the books. Adelia turned to the desk and opened a drawer, revealing a glowing, purple book. Taking it out, she opens it, causing grey smoke to pour out. “Name?”
“Darvin Malkins.” Gabriel replied in answer.
However, I kinda lost where I was going, so it is gonna hang. I want to do short stories for this world, but not sure what I wanna start with for intro story...….. plus a certain roleplayer's characters may or may not be fully integrated in the world permanently.
I'm not familiar with the world, but it's well written. Very nice. The smoke coming out of the book and all.. nice imagery and compelling setting.
Thanks. The world is my own. It is not a fan work. I just take concepts from religious and other sources and use them in a creative manner.
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