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Fallen Tears



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Mon Jan 08, 2007 8:05 pm
Broken Wings says...



She could feel water drop onto her face, and she opened her eyes to see where it came from. It came from the tree she was laying under. It was old and the leaves quivered in the late summer air, as if anticipating autumn. She sat up wearily and looked around, then closed her eyes and leaned against the trunk. What was she doing here? She was Rebecca Moore. Straight A student, about to go into Harvard. And yet, as the idea had enticed her before, it left her empty.

"How could he have left me? Just die! Just like that!" She asked the tree, tears welling up in her already red and puffy eyes. The tree didn't answer, but it seemed to be listening. And that was all she wanted. Someone to listen.

"You wouldn't know, would you? I'll tell you what happened then, and maybe you can relate. You must've had several friends cut down in your past." Rebecca turned to face the tree, getting comfortable. Her father would be looking for her, but she didn't care. No one would find her here.

"Last time I saw him, we were walking through the park. I had his hand in mine, and I couldn't stop admiring his brown hair. It looked so gorgeous in the wind, however hard it was blowing. His hair never seemed messy, but it always was. And did I mention his beautiful green eyes? So much better than my ugly brown ones. I don't even remember what he was telling me. We got to my house, and he leaned down to kiss me. It was a quick kiss, a 'see you later' kiss. But, technically, it was a good bye one. I should've chased after him and made him give me a proper one. But how was I to know?"

Rebecca sighed, caught up in the moment. It had been a good kiss, none-the-less. Tony always gave her a good kiss. One that made her lips tingle, shivers run up her spine, and her stomach flop. But she knew a tree wouldn't know the feeling. She almost felt bad for it, so she leaned over and kissed the bark.

"I remember a long time ago, when we were twelve or so, my father caught me and Tony sitting in a tree, and he accused us of 'doing things kids shouldn't be doing'. Kissing, I assumed was what he meant. You couldn't really make love in a tree. But, anyway, we weren't. We had just been talking about how nice it would be if there was six feet of snow on the ground, and we could just jump off the branch into it. It did sound like fun. But we never did get to do anything like that."

A leaf dropped onto her knee. She picked it up and smoothed the curled ends of it gently. The sun was lower than she thought it had been. How long had she been sleeping? She rubbed one eye, then patted the bark.

"Tony once told me that time is the greatest thing in the world. Even God can't control it. I guess it is true, because if God could, wouldn't he have let Tony have more time with me? Just a little?" She paused to think this over to herself for a second. And then another memory came. The famous dance. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She didn't really have anything else to use at the moment.

"The music was loud, and it was hot. I was beginning to regret coming. I hadn't even wanted to. My friends had dragged me to it, because it was the first dance of the year and they told me I couldn't miss it. Really, I would much rather have been at home reading. But there I was, sitting on the bleachers, bored out of my mind and feeling a headache coming on. But, now that I look back, atleast that purple dress got to do something more exciting than collecting mothballs in my closest." Rebecca closed her eyes and smiled slightly. "Then, suddenly, he was standing over me. I think he was sweating, and his hair was a mess, and he smelled like he had bathed in cologne. But at the time he looked like the most handsome boy in the world." She sighed dreamily and tried to remember the look in his eyes.

It had been, of course, fear and eagerness, but she imagined it as calmness and confidence. It was so much more romantic in a hopelessly unromantic relationship. And yet they had loved each other to pieces.

"'Would you like to dance with me?'" She tried to sound like him, but failed horribly. "I couldn't even say anything. I just nodded dumbly, and he took my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. At first we were stiff, and I felt terribly awkward. But then our favorite song came on, and it was suddenly as if we knew exactly what we were doing. We didn't, really. But that didn't matter. We moved close, and I was still nervous, but sang with the crowd anyway. He couldn't sing at all, and I couldn't, but it mixed with the hundreds of other voices. And then a slow song came on."

Rebecca took a breath and felt a tear slither down her face and drip off her nose. Why couldn't she go back to this time? Life was so unfair.

"He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I put my hands on his shoulders, and I felt like I was part of the music. Everything was just...gone. Except him and me, dancing. It sounds cheesy, but it was true. Well, I left not long after that. And the next day it was like nothing had happened. I felt completely lost." She could remember how she looked into his eyes, anticipating the love in them, but he had just looked at her like he always did. With the care of a friend, nothing more.

"I was heart broken. I spent that whole week just sort of gliding around, locked in my mind. And then on Friday he caught me in the hallway. He said something like 'We didn't finish the dance properly' and then he kissed me. Right in front of everyone! And that's when we got together." She paused for a second, reaching out for more happy memories. "He told...he told me once that he would never leave me." Rebecca stood up and brushed off her jeans. She had changed her mind.

The tree probably wouldn't want to know about that horrible night. The phone call, rushing to the hospital, sobbing besides the bed. Whispers of how tragic it was that the boy had to pay for his friend's stupidity; driving drunk.

It didn't matter any more. She couldn't keep him to herself. Tony had been such a wonderful person that God decided to make him an angel. Maybe he was watching over her now.

"I'm glad you listened to me." The girl told the tree, giving it another pat. She turned and started walking away, then something made her glance back. She thought she saw a figure of a boy, leaning against the tree. She knew she saw him. She didn't slow down though, or look back again. But she did walk home with a smile lighting up her tear stained face. Her tears had fallen onto an angel's wings, and perhaps that certain angel would hold them until Rebecca could meet him when her own time came.
Last edited by Broken Wings on Sat Jan 20, 2007 6:27 pm, edited 4 times in total.
"Admitting that you don't like reading is admitting that you don't have an imagination." -- Broken Wings
  





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Mon Jan 08, 2007 9:34 pm
Lilyy03 says...



Awww. :(

This had the potential to be utterly corny, but it wasn't. I liked how the memories were described both as they actually were, and with the layers that Rebecca imagined over them.

...Speaking of Rebecca, I thought it was a bit odd that you gave her name in the first paragraph, and didn't use it again. Maybe replace a few of the "she"s with her name instead? Just an idea, I don't think it's all that important.

Also, at times the way she speaks seems to be more like narrative, than the way a person would actually talk.

And a typo:

Whispers of how tradgic

Tragic.

Overall, though, a nice story.
  





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Tue Jan 09, 2007 4:58 am
writergirl007 says...



This was a wonderful story! I can totally relate to the girl. At least in some aspects. I thought it was marvelous. A little tragic, but good. Nice touch with the ending. Keep up the good work. Writergirl
"It is better to save than to destroy, and that justice is most righteous which is tempered by mercy." Mark Twain
  





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Tue Jan 09, 2007 5:32 am
Loose says...



awww that is soo sad :( but well written. when I read it, it reminded me of The Pact, which I think is the only book to make me cry. well done :)
  





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Mon Jan 15, 2007 5:19 am
Broken Wings says...



Lilyy03 wrote:Awww. :(

This had the potential to be utterly corny, but it wasn't. I liked how the memories were described both as they actually were, and with the layers that Rebecca imagined over them.
Thank you?

...Speaking of Rebecca, I thought it was a bit odd that you gave her name in the first paragraph, and didn't use it again. Maybe replace a few of the "she"s with her name instead? Just an idea, I don't think it's all that important.
...That's true. I didn't realize that...thank you ^-^.

Also, at times the way she speaks seems to be more like narrative, than the way a person would actually talk.

And a typo:

Whispers of how tradgic

Tragic.
Fixed.

Overall, though, a nice story.
=^-^= I'm always glad to hear that.
"Admitting that you don't like reading is admitting that you don't have an imagination." -- Broken Wings
  





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Sat Jan 20, 2007 1:03 pm
Crystal Shadow says...



My cousin would love this story, I think. I need to get her on this site. Well, I really can't find any flaws. That's a first.
I am a child of the Night, who listens and questions all options before choosing my next turn in this endless path we call life. After all, "How can one say they understand the light if they have yet to experiance the dark?" -Starrfire Price
  





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Sun Jan 21, 2007 2:47 pm
Broken Wings says...



Crystal Shadow wrote:My cousin would love this story, I think. I need to get her on this site. Well, I really can't find any flaws. That's a first.
May I ask why?

Not finding flaws is always good. Thank you, I'm flattered.
"Admitting that you don't like reading is admitting that you don't have an imagination." -- Broken Wings
  





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Sun Jan 21, 2007 5:12 pm
vixeyt says...



That was really good. I liked the fact that Rebecca appriciated nature. And that she didn't mind talking to trees. And at the dance, she would rather have been reading.
  





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Mon Jan 22, 2007 12:58 am
Broken Wings says...



xD She was just talking to the tree because it listened and no one else wanted to.

And yes, the dance thing is something from my own experience. I don't really like dances either.

(P.S -- I love your avatar)
"Admitting that you don't like reading is admitting that you don't have an imagination." -- Broken Wings
  





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Wed Jan 24, 2007 1:09 pm
bloodredsnows says...



Nice work... I personlly feel as though more description would have worked here to add the the level of compassion you feel for Rebecce. Themore of the situation and feelings you put dowm, the more likely a reader is to identify with them and the story as a whole... but great stuff ^.^

~bloodred
  





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Wed Jan 24, 2007 7:32 pm
Broken Wings says...



Yeah, I was thinking that too, but I have no idea how to explain her...I'm not even sure what she looks like all that much, because I wrote it in her view.
"Admitting that you don't like reading is admitting that you don't have an imagination." -- Broken Wings
  








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