the Master of Sheep DOOMYNESS (the_sheep_shelf) wrote in my_head_esplode,
the Master of Sheep DOOMYNESS

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Ugh! I have to start it AND be the first to post?

Alright stinkmeats heres the deal. If no one posts within 2.4 days ur all fired! lol jk but still post u stinkies! But sense i'm first gives me a good chance to makeup a format:

Post: There is a Bench That Sits Alone in the Rain
Creater: the_sheep_shelf
Type: Writing
Genre: Experimental/Romance
Rating: PG

Ok from now on u must have at least ALL of that! bwahahaha or i'll delete it! *maniacal grin* then comes the lj-cut:

There is a bench that sits alone in the rain.
By: Raven Bass
Where exactly I cannot remember, though I suppose it hardly matters now. I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.
I guess that’s easier for you to accept then for I, for you don’t know the significance of it. That being, it’s where Tracey met Terry. Maybe that is what this story is about, maybe not.
Tracey had met the bench long before Tracey, if one can truly meet a bench. Tracey would sit on the bench everyday, long red hair billowing in the harsh wind (because remember it’s raining), waiting for the bus to come. The bus was, of course only means to an end, as it continued on to a high school.
For Tracey that too was simply a mean. Tracey lived in a sour neighborhood, which left a bitter taste. Most people had come to live with it but not Tracey. Never Tracey. Tracey had ambition. Tracey was going to be a writer.
So Tracey rode the three miles to and from school everyday, on an empty bus. If there had ever been another teenager maybe Tracey would’ve been different, maybe not.
It was then, of course, surprising when one day there was someone on the bench when Tracey arrived. Let alone someone with tears running down their face. Of course, this was Terry.
“Oh!” Tracey gasped when Terry was noted, almost dropping a notebook and instead losing eyesight.
Terry couldn’t stay composed and fell off the bench laughing. This made Tracey blush deeply.
“I’m so sorry!” Terry gasped, tears of joy now replacing sorrow.
Tracey began to laugh as well. Terry retrieved the glasses and handed them back to Tracey. As the world came back into focus Tracey stopped laughing to gasp again.
“What? I’m not that ugly am I?” Terry joked. Which couldn’t be any further from the truth, Tracey hadn’t even dreamt of someone of anyone so beautiful. With black page-boy hair, black lipstick, and bright green eyes, Terry was Tracey’s image of attractiveness and was instantly smitten.
“Uh…” was all Tracey could manage.
“Don’t worry, I get that a lot,” Terry said, grinning from ear to ear, “Let’s start simply, ‘k? My name is terry.”
“M-m-mines Tracey.”
“What a cute name!”
“Well umm… thank you… I don’t really like it.”
“Aw. Come’on all you need is a little confidence, your really cute.”
“…” (Tracey’s eyes widened, cheeks now on fire.)
“Tell you what, obviously, I’m new around here, you help me and I’ll help you, ‘k?”
“Oh come’on my suggestion wasn’t that lame was it?”
“No, it’s just that I am so nervous!” Terry said, now all out laughing.
Tracey laughed as well, “Really? Y’know what? So am I.”
Right around then the bus came. Terry sat in the seat behind Tracey’s usual. They both immediately got along. And Tracey barely concealed the disappointment when Terry’s stop was not the school.
But it was all okay the next day when Tracey was there again. And so that day Tracey looked forward to Terry being there the next morning. And was almost upset when the bench was empty.
And so it went. Some days Terry was there and some not. No pattern was discernable. Secretly, Tracey made up reasons.
Some days Terry was a hitchhiker. Or a chronic school-ditcher. Or Terry was a dropout and had an odd-job schedule. Or a secret agent sent to spy on Tracey.
It didn’t matter. Tracey liked Terry however imagined. Wait… liked? The thought burned. Tracy couldn’t like someone like Terry, particularly not Terry. Parents, friends, family, classmates, none of them would allow that sort of thing. But that didn’t change how Tracey felt.
The next day the bench was empty when Tracey arrived, earning a sigh of relief. Then a cry of frustration and a kick towards the curb. Tracey was hopping around on one foot when a voice came from behind, “Heehee. Do you do that every morning I’m not here?” Terry asked, just arriving.
“Hey! Of course not, stinky!” Tracey replied, tongue sticking out. They both laughed. Tracey immediately forgot all worries.
“I have something important to ask you.”
“Okay,” Tracey squeaked, worries racing back.
“Terry… would you,” Terry took a deep breath, blushing, “go out with me?”
Tracey’s eyes bulged.
“You are the only person who’s ever understood and excepted me. And we get a long so well… I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Tracey gasped. The managed, “I… I’m sorry. I’m not like that.”
“It’s… it’s okay.” But of course it wasn’t for either of them. Time passed. Tracey sat alone in the rain. But Tracey was a good student and never let it on.
Almost a year later, after an especially bad morning, for divorces are always hard on children, Tracey burst out in tears on the bench. Tracey cried out, “I miss you Terry!”
“I’ve missed you to.”
Tracey turned, and saw Terry, much the same as last time they’d seen each other. Tracey leapt into Terry’s arms and cried, “I don’t care what anyone else thinks, I love you!””
They never returned to that bench. And, for now, it sits there, alone in the rain.
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