Story Quote #6916653
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I’m not really sure how I ended up with her sprawled next

I’m not really sure how I ended up with her sprawled next to me, drunk, driving down the road at midnight in my old, beat up, Toyota. Don’t get me wrong, I remember everything, I’m not one to drink. But of all people that could’ve been grossly drunk in my car, Faith Starling was one of the last people I would have expected. I mean sure, she was usually at these parties that I went too but she’d never been like this. She had always been more of a mystery to me, a gothic, amazingly beautiful girl that seemed always to be walking in the shadows with her head held high. Loved by some and hated by others with little room for the in-between. It wasn’t until this very moment that I realized I never really saw Faith as a person. She had always been a figment of my imagination until now.
            “Miles, you’re driving too fast…” she slurred, giggling. “You should be a race-car driver… Vroom vroom.”
            “I’ll have to look into it. Now try to get some rest honey,” I replied, glancing at her slightly.
“Okay Mr. race car driver. Nighty night!” Her body went limp as her breathing steadied and within an instant she was out.” I sighed and let a small laugh escape my lips, trying not to dwell on the night’s events. For her sake I hoped that she didn’t remember the night when she woke up. Hell, I almost wished I was drunk at the moment. I could only imagine what it would feel like for her to wake up and be forced to remember. Thinking of what could’ve happened if I hadn’t stumbled into the dark bedroom while trying to find some quiet space; if I hadn’t found her with Bobby Jackson’s hands holding her down and attempting to undo the button her pants. I hoped that she wouldn’t remember the way that I pushed him off of her and the way she bit him, causing him to slap her and push her defenseless body to the ground. This wasn’t the type of thing I wanted to be the hero for because this wasn’t the type of thing that should be happening in the first place.
I wished I knew where she lived. That way I could bring her home and maybe give her more of an opportunity to banish the memories from existence. But instead I was forced to pull into my driveway at 11:27 p.m. and carry her fragile body up the creaky wooden stairs into my bedroom. I was grateful that my mom had cleaned my room earlier in the day as I placed her body under the covers. For a moment I debated where I should sleep. I had originally intended on sleeping on the couch downstairs but then I realized that it would probably best if I was there to tell her where she was when she woke up in the morning. So I groggily dragged my beanbag from the corner and curled up under a throw blanket on the floor.
After a while it became apparent that sleep wasn’t going to be coming along for a while. So I went downstairs, made myself some hot chocolate, and drew my sketchpad out from under my bed. As the lines started to be etched onto the paper I wasn’t exactly sure what I was drawing. My strategy was more just to let my hand do the work while my brain is cleansed of all perpetrating thoughts. Two hours later I had a black and white sketch of Faith standing on a table with a beer can raised to the air and heavy eyelids. Sliding the sketchbook back into its permanent hiding place, I slithered to back to my bean bag and allowed my now cleared mind to drift off into the dream world.  


THAT WAS THE FIRST HALF OF THE FIRST CHAPTER OF MY NEW NOVEL. COMMENTS PLEASE?

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wordynerdy

posted November 3, 2013 at 8:58pm EST tagged with story, true, yup, novel, storry, icantspell, inspirational

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