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Post by shauna1 on Oct 20, 2012 23:19:50 GMT -5
jay walked into his creative writing class with a small smile on his face, he was eager for that class. as much as he loved physics, creative writing stole the favorite spot for that particular day. now, you may ask what about this day that was making jay so excited? free write day. where you can just sit in your desk, open your mind and just write whatever you want. the best part was that no one had to share their writing, which was great because jay's writing were always very personal. suddenly his excitement, the smile, the eagerness disappeared like a mouse in a cluttered cellar. his eyes peered over to the board that read another teacher's name, and he just assumed the woman sitting his usual female teacher's seat was the substitute. he sat in his usual spot in the middle of the room, looking around to see that he was the first student there as usual and a sigh escaped his lips. when the woman noticed jay, she smiled and introduced herself before standing up and writing 'free-write day' on the board. jay's eyes lit up a bit, it seems the mouse was slowly creeping from behind a box in that cluttered cellar.
he went into his school bag and pulled out his notebook, and inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes to find his inspiration, his muse. his mind traveled to the fantasy he had the night before, he was with a familiar face engaging in an unfamiliar act. that heaviness was on his chest, he inhaled and exhaled with his eyes still shut. he felt like he was going to have a panic attack, but stayed calm since the feeling wasn't new to him. jay was diagnosed with a severe anxiety disorder when i was about fourteen or fifteen. but as the dream replayed in his mind, the heaviness in his chest was feeling some what different. and that was because it was going from his chest to his crotch. jay opened his eyes and picked up his pencil and let his fantasy turn into a story, almost as if he were writing an awkward autobiography on his awkward life. when he began writing, he shifted around in his seat a little as his eyes took a quick tour of the room. his eyes shifting to the boy sitting in front of him, avery. avery was a good friend of his, and a part of his free write. he turned his attention back to his writing, and after a few minutes he had two long paragraphs written up which read the following.
how the hell did i get here? he is leaning over me, pulling my shirt over my head. his fingertips and nails touching me in sensitive spots i never knew i had. his other hand is working on the buttons of my pants. his mouth is hot and syrupy, and i can taste alcohol on his breath mixing with the taste of cigarettes and pot on my own. he begins doing things with that mouth and those hands. he lowers my pants, and with arms perfectly crossed pulls off his shirt. my hands explore his jean buttons and he backs away from me in a single motion pulling down anything that was covering him. he stared at me with his hazel-green eyes. i'm transfixed. everything about him is some what graceful, even when he's giving me head. he is delicate, protective, and angelic. i'm drunk and, for that split second, i'm also in love. through the thin lace curtain separating our tangle of tongue, fingernail and flesh from the rest of the people in the room. i can see some sort of guard silhouetted against the strobing light, guarding the fate like st. peter. when he comes up, he kisses my lips ever so gently. "what about eva?" i ask him, he shrugs and kisses me roughly. this is a once in a lifetime thing, but suddenly the music from the party was fading and the sounds of david bowie grew louder and louder as if i were regaining consciousness. i look around the room, the party scene is gone. avery is gone. shit i'm tossing off.
what am i doing? imagining this sort of thing with such a close friend. this is not the kind of mistake you can just get away with, even if i am the only one who knows about it. there are consequences, repercussions, price to pay. as i tried to stop, i couldn't. the strobe lights were back, and i can see avery's face gazing down at me. with every flash his face grows more and more distorted, more twisted and inhuman, more... demonic. that's the right word. our bodies keep moving, he's going harder and harder. and as much as i'm trying to shut out this fantasy, screaming for it to stop but i just couldn't. this is it, i'm fucked. i'm screwing a friend, with a girlfriend. it's the devil's hand. i've sold my soul. i can see myself, wincing and crying out swears with avery on top of me. then, everything is gone. avery. the curtain. the shadow of the guard. the music. the lights. and i let go like a bouquet of milk white lillies exploding in a funeral hole. my face is dead and emotionless, my eyes are burned out like flash bulbs. and i sit back, ignoring the mess i've just made in the physical. just thinking of the mess i've made in the mental. am i right? am i wrong? my god. what have i done?
he looked at the back of avery's blonde head, and tired to smile but failed. suddenly, the substitute spoke up about now having to partner up and share their stories. he felt his heart drop to his stomach and his stomach drop to his intestines. he flipped around in his notebook looking for any other free writes, and sighed as he saw that he had written in pen and dated the fucking papers. he ran a hand through his hair and sighed aloud, especially once she didn't give the class the option of picking their own partners. she started pairing off students, and he swallowed hard. especially when she paired him up with avery. jay shut his notebook quickly, preparing to lie about doing the assignment. he hated this, their real teacher never made them share their writing. ever.
words 1075 tagged allie / avery outfit next post i'm lazy
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