My Story

sábado, diciembre 04, 2004

My Story for the Short Story Contest at school: Tales From a Broken Heart

Tales from a broken heart


Summer sunlight shone through the open window of the moving bus. Michael felt the warmth of it on his skin, while a fresh breeze waved his hair on his forehead. Although he seemed to have a smile on his face, he was very confused in the inside, and wasn’t clear about how he exactly felt. With his eyes were on some inexistent point in the horizon, he rubbed them to dissimulate a rolling teardrop on his face while he clutched a wrinkled piece of paper he had in his left hand.

Mike, the way his friends called him, was just another teenager like many others in his city: he had dreams, fears, friends and foes, well, not exactly, but there were some guys he didn’t like really much. He was just the typical adolescent who liked parties as well as videogames, and was just “ok” at school. His life ran according to his expectations; after his 15th birthday a few weeks ago, he was now going through a very exciting period of his life.

Like most teenagers, Mike had fallen in the only trap which has butterflies and candy bars inside; he had fallen in love, this complex feeling that involves from fear to hope, this special feeling that can rise you to heaven and then pull you down to hell in a few seconds, this feeling that can be the most wonderful and at the same time the worst that ever happened to someone. No one can deny it feels great to know you have someone to trust in; someone that will try to help you at all costs and someone whose hug will always be a reason to keep fighting in this life. Love is one of life’s biggest ironies: you have to dive in it to feel it, but it is easy to drown once you are in the deepest part of it.

Well, Michael just couldn’t avoid this sweet trap when he met Gabrielle. From the very first moment, he was already captivated by her beauty and her sublime personality. To Mike, she was just like an angel; every feature of hers looked as if it had been hand-carved by the most skilful artist on the best materials found, and her eyes were like two morning dewdrops. Although Gabrielle was a law abiding, she could bend the rules enough to make life more interesting. To Michael, she was the closest to perfect.

Michael didn’t even have a clue of what being in love was like until causality put this poisoned marshmallow wall in front of him. Never before had he wished to be able to hold someone so strongly like this time. He kept thinking about things he could say to her, and things they could do together, but he couldn’t gather enough courage to go and talk to her.

They saw each other every day at school, but their conversations were no longer than the time it takes to say “Hello!” . How painful can it be to sit next to someone and at the same time so far away from her heart! At some point, Mike tried to bury his feelings in the deepest of him and let go, but somehow, everywhere he looked and everywhere he went, there was something that reminded him from the glance in Gabrielle’s eyes or from her soft voice.

Not being able to see further away from the illusion he had in front of him, he sought for his friends advice. Richard, his pal who was almost a brother to him, told Mike to play the game and enjoy the moment, but Stephanie, his best female friend suggested to wait a bit longer before making any move. Every person he approached looking for guidance said something different about what he should do.

One day, after school, he accidentally bumped into Gabrielle, throwing her pencil case to the floor and spilling a whole bunch of different coloured pencils and pens. They spent quite some time picking them up. This is how they got to know each other and became friends. That afternoon, Michael sung every moment he could, and when he couldn’t or wasn’t allowed to, he would whistle some happy song or just think about one.

Mike and Gabrielle’s friendship got to develop in a few days and after some time, Gabrielle already trusted him and saw him as a good friend.

So, after a few weeks, Michael pushed his fears aside and decided to ask her to become his girlfriend. He spent an entire night writing a two paragraph poem that could describe his feelings, but every time he thought it was ready, he found out that something was wrong or he just didn’t like the way it sounded. When he finally finished it, he carefully typed it in his computer and printed it twice; one copy for him and the other for Gabrielle.

They had agreed to get together to study for some coming exam, and Mike knew that would be his chance. That day, he showed up punctually at 14 o’clock at Gabrielle’s door. Gabrielle welcomed him and offered him something to drink. Every second that passed, Mike’s heart beat faster, while nervousness slowly took over him. Big trickles of sweat ran down his forehead, as he waited for the right moment to make his question. It wasn’t really big deal: for most people, having a girlfriend was something absolutely ordinary, but for Mike it was so special that his enthusiasm was so almost impossible to hide. But not long after he had finished his soda, someone unknown appeared in the room. Mike might have seen him before, but at that moment, it was irrelevant to him. He was sure Gabrielle would introduce her friend to him. But when the stranger introduced himself as Gabrielle’s boyfriend, Mike’s whole world was torn apart. All the castles he build, all the dreams he had were began to vanish, revealing the unpleasant and uneasy but inevitable truth.

Mike lied about having forgotten something at home and left Gabrielle’s house, promising he would return soon. With his mind clouded by confusion and pain, he took the first bus that stopped nearby, without knowing where it would take him. While the bus drove slowly down the road, Mike stared out the window at the broken castles in the sky. The poem he wrote was still in his pocket. When he wrote it, it was such a masterpiece: the perfection in each verse and the beauty expressed in each word; now it was just a useless piece of paper. Without reading it again, he folded it carefully, clutched his hand with the poem inside and fixed his eyes on some inexistent point in the horizon, while he felt his heart breaking into tiny pieces.

Some people say that love makes people stupid. I say that stupid people also fall in love.