|
|
Post by CARTER LYNN JACKSON on Aug 18, 2010 12:14:58 GMT -5
 it's a quarter after one, i'm all alone[/colour][/font][/size] and i need you now[/center] was that embarassment she heard in his stammering? carter pressed her lips tightly together to bite back the urge to laugh, not wishing to do his pride any injury. perhaps when they got to know one another a little better, she would laugh outwardly, but for the time being that probably wasn't a good idea. the boy seemed almost uncomfortable as it was, no sense in making it worse. and there she went, talking to herself again. life had been so boring and lonely back home that she had delighted in conversing with the horses and the cows, or, when they were out further in the fields, herself. it was a bad habit, she supposed, one that would make people think she was a few bricks short of a load, but carter didn't mind too much. people always had their opinions of others, and there wasn't much that could be done to change them, so you just had to deal with the cards life dealt you.
it took a lot of self control for carter not to immediately begin speaking again at the risk of bombarding him with questions. her mama had always told her that she liked talking too much to be natural, especially when she got worked up about something. when that happened, carter could go on for hours, talking a mile a minute and still not run out of things to say on something. her sister had often laughed at her for being a little bubbly, or at least that was what she claimed to be. she was a wandering soul, she had told her daddy once. she couldn't be kept together by rules and restrictions if it meant hindering her chances to explore life. needless to say, that had not gone over very well in the jackson household that night, because her daddy had taken it to mean exactly what she had actually meant. that she wouldn't continue living in their little house in the middle of nowhere kentucky. not if it meant being stuck there for the rest of her life.
despite herself, carter felt a smile creep onto her lips. "you don't need to apologize for somethin' like that," she assured him in her soft southern tone. "i like to think that there's more to life then the clothes you're wearin'."
there were a number of things that were more important too carter instead of clothes. her sister for one, her mama and daddy for another. and now that she was in new york it was her dreams and the music that became the most important things in her life, because they were the reason she got up out of bed every morning. they were her drive to do well in school, where she knew that anything would be possible once she managed to graduate and get on the path that she so desperately wanted. becoming a star would prove to everyone, including herself, that she had the talent and the desire to make it somewhere in life. she didn't want to milk cows and tend to the farm the way her family had for so many years. there was so much more outside of that little town! and why keep yourself locked in the paddock when the fields were calling your name?
upset? no, not upset. that wasn't the right word to describe what it was that she saw in his face. "you seem a little distant, that's all. like you're sittin' here, but your minds wanderin' somewhere else."
was that the best way to phrase it? she didn't really know, but now that she had voiced that opinion, there was nothing else to do but wait. hopefully she had not gone and said the wrong thing again, which she apparently did a lot back home. that was the reason some girls hated her, or so they had told her. but carter had always shrugged it off, not really knowing what they were talking about. her social awkwardness proved to be rather taxing somedays, which had resulted in many hours spent alone in her room while she played around with her guitar, just trying to see if maybe she could come up with something worthy of a song. after finally resigning herself to the fact that composing wasn't her talent, she had set the guitar aside in favour of a microphone...and there it started.
"are you sure?"
[/size][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by TYRON ROBERT ROBINSON on Aug 19, 2010 12:08:43 GMT -5
 Sanctus Espiritus! Is this what we deserve? Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony? [/sub][/center][/font] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Tyron could never say he’d been fond of a southern twang. He loved music, but usually, the twang of country annoyed him. And yet for some reason, the twang that proclaimed Carter as a southern girl didn’t bother him. It was weird, but it fit her in a way. Why was he even thinking about that? He didn’t have a clue… It was amusing really, the fact that the southern twang usually annoyed him. Considering the fact he’d been born in Dallas and often went back to visit family. You’d think he’d have been one of those to embrace the twang, embrace the country music. Nope. His mother loved country, but he was never that kid that liked it at all. He embraced his Brooklyn accent and New York bloodline. Dallas was cool, but to him, New York was home. Though he had to admit, he’d always liked the horses that his aunt and uncle owned just outside of Dallas, there was something that made him love the doleful eyes, the sound of their breathing. Very relaxing creatures to be around. Or at least, he’d always thought so. He’d actually had his own there at one point, how many days had he spent chilling in the grazing field with his horse and his guitar? Too many.
“I’m glad some girls think that way. You’re right. Most girls would have been offended. “ He replied, smiling a little, despite himself. Okay, so it was still that small upturn of the lips, not a real smile. But it was as close as he was going to get. He did mean it too, he meant the smile and the words. He was glad that there were girls somewhere in the world that looked past what you wore. Unless of course she was just saying that in a way to try and make him feel better about not noticing. However, it was just in his nature to take things people said and believe them. He didn’t have the mental activity these days to doubt, or think too much into it. Besides, it was easier just to believe her, why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t like he knew she was a liar or something… If Leon considered her a friend, so she had to be a pretty good person overall… Right? Unless Leon lost his mind or something. Which was always possible…
“Sorry… My mind tends to always be elsewhere. Sort of… How I am I guess. Nothing’s keeping me tethered down. Like a balloon a kid let go.” He spoke in reply to her comment of him seeming distant. Wasn’t that the understatement of the year… Him, distant? He was always not quite there. His mind was thinking, his thoughts were elsewhere… His body was sort of a vessel there while his mind drifted away. He couldn’t explain why he was like that, is therapist said it was his way of dealing with everything… So he guessed that was it. She questioned whether he was sure he wanted to be there and he almost huffed out a grumble. Why? Because he hated when people second guessed what he said. Okay… Hate was a strong word, he didn’t always focus enough to hate something… It annoyed him. That was probably a better way to think of it.
“Are you still cold? It’d be a shame to get sick. Especially if you need to sing for an audition soon.” He replied, choosing to ignore the question. He didn’t really feel like repeating himself, so he changed the subject. To something he didn’t really want to discuss… But the question kind of popped out and what followed wasn’t really thought through. Music and singing wasn’t something he cared to make conversation of… Even if he’d accidently brought it up. He did know she was a singer. Leon said that was why she was in New York, Broadway. What a waste of time. Dreaming big gets you no where… he told himself, bitterly, his gaze focusing once more on the trees ahead. He brushed a hand through his hair, hoping dearly that she didn’t go off on a speech about what she was singing, how she sounded… And he really hoped she didn’t bring up him. Leon might have mentioned the guitars and piano skills Tyron had, and he didn’t want to talk about that. Nor did he want her to sing.
[/size] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Cred: Me || Song: Solemn Hour, Within Temptation|| Words: 736 || Tag: Carter |
|
|
|
Post by CARTER LYNN JACKSON on Aug 19, 2010 12:43:02 GMT -5
it's a quarter after one, i'm all alone [/colour][/font][/size] and i need you now[/center] times like this, where she spent more then a few moments in the company of one other person, were rather rare now that she was in new york. here she was constantly surrounded by people, each hurrying off in their own seperate direction for something, or anxiously attempting to hail down a taxi cab so that they could get where they needed to be. they seemed like they were in a constant hurry, never taking just a moment to observe anything of their surroundings other then the location of the nearest subway entrance or hot dog cart in the streets. it was almost the total opposite of her life back home, where she had been surrounded by open spaces and fields that rolled further then the eye could see. between them and the bright blue skies that loomed above her head, the entire world seemed endless.
here in new york she was lucky to see much of the sky now, for the horizon was dotted with skyscrapers and billboards advertising the latest musicals or products available for purchase on the market. there was very little natural space for her to explore, which was partly the reason that central park had been her destination that night. at least here there were trees that were not growing in small circles otherwise encased by cement. there were flowers that grew without restrction, and birds that made themselves happy little nests in the trees. or maybe she was just too much of a country girl at heart, she mused. open spaces and fresh air had no place in new york, or any other large scale city for that matter. all that really mattered was progress and industry, ways of making money.
"that's almost poetic," she said thoughtfully, her lips curling a little more into a smile. "but if your mind were to be released in a way that a child releases a balloon, what brings it back?"
alright, so she probably should not have asked, but carter couldn't help herself. she was a curious being by nature, always wondering what made people tick, how to improve her skills as a vocalist and musician. though her mama always told her that she was asking for trouble, carter didn't do much to help her cause. but how else was to to improve? what she was naturally able to do was by no means enough for her to get anywhere with, which was why she was at the college in new york, where her chances of success were much higher then they would have been if she had remained home. there was technique, range, dynamics....all of those rolled into the finished product, which was something that she wanted to shine in. if there was ever a chance for her to become better, which she knew there was, then she was going to seize whatever opportunity she could to make her dreams a reality.
her head tilted slightly to the side. "who told you..." her voice trailed off as she suddenly nodded in understanding. leon might have said something to him, for that was the only logical explaination that carter had for tyron's sudden knowledge of her singing. she hadn't said anything to the boy herself yet, and she suddenly found her eyes downcast with slightly embarassment. "well, actually i...i had an audition the other day. there's a local theatre group getting ready to perform 'wicked' and i thought i'd..."
again her voice trailed off, not wanting to brag. not that there was anything to brag about, she reminded herself. the auditions had happened only a short while ago, a few days in fact, so there was no way for her to know whether they were going to cast her or simply let her walk out their door without another word. that was the hardest part about show business. the waiting.
"what about you?" she offered, trying to divert his attentions as she pulled the jacket from her shoulders and offered it back to him. "do you play or anything?"
[/size][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by TYRON ROBERT ROBINSON on Aug 19, 2010 15:00:43 GMT -5
Sanctus Espiritus! Is this what we deserve? Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony? [/sub][/center][/font] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Poetic? Well not really, if he’d been trying to be poetic he’d have said something more along the lines of ‘My brain follows the breeze like a balloon, let go from the prison of a child’s sticky fingers’… Or something along those lines. There were days he had actually been a pretty poetic guy, came from trying to write lyrics… not that they’d ever been all that great… Stop it he scolded mentally, moving his thoughts to her question, rather then dwell upon the memories that kept him in the way he was. He wasn’t sure how to answer her, there were two options he was debating. She was using his metaphor, but in a way he could simply reply on a literal term. Tell her what brings a balloon back. Or he could go with the conversation and inform her of how to tether his mind down. Then again… He didn’t really know what would keep his mind from wandering, thinking about random things. Or when he just stared off, his mind blank. He didn’t know what could bring him out of those situations. He shifted slightly, scratching at the light stubble on his chin. To complete the scene all he’d have needed would have been that thoughtful expression… Instead his was slightly blank.
“Well gravity can bring it back. Or the hand of another. And sometimes it’ll pop.” He replied after a moment of hesitation. After speaking, it occurred to him that he replied in both a literal and metaphorical way. What he said was true for an actual balloon, but for the most part it worked for his mind. Sometimes it would come back down on it’s own, other times someone else could catch his attention and help focus it. Though he didn’t really know how to apply the popping to his head… As far as he knew his brain wasn’t popping… But he still felt slight amusement at the fact they were discussing balloons…
Tyron opened his mouth to reply to her question of who told him, but the way she railed off he suspected she’d put the pieces together herself, so he closed his mouth again. He listened to her, feeling a sinking in his gut as the topic of speech got closer and closer to the topic he didn’t want to talk about. Wicked… He hadn’t heard of it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to really know much about it. Musicals involved music… And music was the reason he’d lost Beth. As far as he was concerned there was no need for music in his life. He’d smashed his electric guitar in a fit of rage months prior, and that was the tip off to his parents that he needed a therapist. His acoustic was locked away in the attic and he rarely entered his parents house. Why? His father’s grand piano lurked in the entrance way. Still… His bitterness shouldn’t really have made him rude… He had to say something in relation to the topic… Right? “Good luck on your part. Break a leg when you hit stage.” He replied, his tone neutral but his posture stiffer.
He shook his head and held his hand palm out when she offered the coat back. He wasn’t about to take it back until he was on his way home. Even then, he figured he’d let her take it, and he could get Leon to get it back eventually. Normally he wouldn’t have cared, but he was actually fond of that leather jacket, and wasn’t really in the mood to let it go quite yet. He clenched his jaws a little as she questioned him. He knew he had that one coming… He pulled his hand back, roughly shoving both of them into his jeans’ pockets as he looked away once more, looking up at the sky. He was fairly normal looking, if not for the taunt jaw muscles and harsh glare in his eyes. “No.” He replied sharply. He was lying of course… You couldn’t just forget once you learned how to play an instrument, it was like learning a bike. If Leon had told him about her acting, who knows what he’d told her about him. But at that moment, he didn’t care if e came off looking like a liar.
[/size] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Cred: Me || Song: Solemn Hour, Within Temptation|| Words: 721 || Tag: Carter |
|
|
|
Post by CARTER LYNN JACKSON on Aug 19, 2010 15:48:57 GMT -5
it's a quarter after one, i'm all alone [/colour][/font][/size] and i need you now[/center] the hand of another?
maybe she was a little farther gone then she wanted to admit, but words like that nagged at her brain. it made sense that your attentions could be brought back by something small, even if it was the simple honking of a horn from a car that nearly ran you over on your way across the street. but the hand of another made her thing of something else. like there was a special person who had the power to just reach up, no matter how high the "balloon" was, and pluck it from the sky to bring it back to your eagerly awaiting hands. like that one person, no matter what they were doing, was some kind of calming influence in your life.
for the longest time, carter had thought that it simply had to be a friend, or a sister in her case, who had that kind of power over you. back home, if ever she was in a rage, the only person who had a hope of calming her down was her younger sister tessa, who would stand there while her sister ranted and raved in her southern twang until it was almost impossible to understand her. and then, once spent, her sister would sit down beside her and ask her a question, one simple question.
"what do you want to do about it?"
oh, she would have kicked herself right then and there. people tended to think that carter was a little mental, but talking to herself, out loud no less, while there was someone else around, was perhaps the best way to confirm those thoughts in people. she dropped her eyes again, staring at the hands that now held his jacket in her lap, having just been refused in her attempt to return it to him. one hand ran through her dark curls, scratching lightly at her scalp as she struggled to come up with some kind of excuse for her actions. with nothing coming to mind, the girl suddenly found herself sitting on a park bench after midnight in the company of a stranger, and her chest tightened with embarassment. she might have just thrown any chance of helping tyron out the window.
"thanks," came her quick reply. "i-i don't know if they'll get back to me or anythin'."
her body suddenly straightened and retreated at his sharp tone, a little startled that things had turned around so quickly. all she had done was ask if he played, and that seemed to be a rather sore spot with him. as terrifying as it was, it was a good place to start. her fingers absentmindedly tightened around his jacket as she jerked backward, leaning away from him as if she were afraid that he might bark at her again. had she been smarter, carter might have gotten up and bolted before she had done anything to further upset him, or perhaps just apologized and left it at that. but of course, she was not the brightest tool in the shed, and she pried a little more, swallowing back her fear as she straightened in her seat.
"i get the feeling that you're not being honest about that," she murmured softly.
[/size][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by TYRON ROBERT ROBINSON on Aug 19, 2010 16:45:59 GMT -5
Sanctus Espiritus! Is this what we deserve? Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony? [/sub][/center][/font] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Tyron wasn’t the most intelligent guy in the world. He knew that. His parents knew that. His teachers all knew that. But he wasn’t stupid. He did well in most classes, just over average and excelled in a handful to achieve higher marks. But he didn’t know what she meant by ‘what do you want to do about it?’ despite his brains… Well. He was smarter now, the past year had all but been a waste of effort because he’d very nearly failed everything because of his lack of drive. Now, school was the only distraction he had. Working out, job and school. Working out, job and school over and over. That’s all he’d do in a day really… Or he’d walk. His mother said his apartment was lonely, with just the basics for living… And his work out gear. She said that he needed to get a cat for company. Tyron had always been a more dog loving person, but he figured his mom said cat because they demanded less affection than a dog… He wasn’t exactly affectionate.
“What do you mean?” He asked her in a slow voice, blinking in confusion. Did she think he could make some great change to his life to fix how he let his mind wander? There was more to him then that that he had to fix… But in a way her words were correct. What did he want to do about it? He didn’t want to do anything. He hadn’t, not since Beth had died. He’d given up on everything. School, music, feeding himself at times. He knew it wasn’t all losing Beth, but that was the trigger. The hormonal imbalance had dragged it out. It had gotten to a point now, that it had been so long that he barely remembered what her voice sounded like… Her face was starting to go blurry in his memory. If not for pictures, it’d be worse. He wouldn’t say he was over her death… That sounded heartless… But he knew he should have been less affected by it now. But he hadn’t let himself move on after recovering from his depression. Now he was just in this funk.
He honestly wasn’t sure what to say to her quick reply to his encouragement about her audition. Of course she’d just brush it away and be modest. It was what everyone did. No matter how earnest you were about a compliment, they pushed it aside. Now, he didn’t know how earnest he was. He’d never heard her sing. Didn’t want to. He didn’t know how well she acted, so he couldn’t really say whether she had a chance or not. And even if he did know those things, he was no musical director… So what were you supposed to say? He figured another polite compliment was safe… Right? “I’m sure they will.” He told her, glancing at the coat. He was curious why she’d taken it off. It wasn’t nice out… The point of giving it to her was to keep her from getting a chill. He stood up, allowing her to note her opinion of his honesty. So she saw through the lie. Big deal, she wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. He took the coat from her lap as he passed by, moving around the back of the bench to drop it around her shoulders before he moved to sit on the bench where he was before. The movement was so quick, the wood was still warm.
“Fine. I wasn’t. I used to play. Not anymore.” He said, his voice lower in tone then it was before. There was a sharpness to his voice, but not an angry one. It was more… A guilty tone. His music had gotten someone killed. How could he ever pick up a guitar, knowing it made it through a crash that a living, breathing soul didn’t. The guitar itself was like a reminder that he’d lived and she died. He was driving. She was beside him. It should have been him, in all rights, it should have. He couldn’t stand it. Beth had helped him figure out how to play the guitar, meshing his piano lessons with the stings of a guitar. No. Music was no longer something that he enjoyed. It was a reminder of how he lived, and she didn’t.
[/size] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Cred: Me || Song: Solemn Hour, Within Temptation|| Words: 730 || Tag: Carter |
|
|
|
Post by CARTER LYNN JACKSON on Aug 19, 2010 21:55:50 GMT -5
it's a quarter after one, i'm all alone [/colour][/font][/size] and i need you now[/center] "just somethin' my sister used to ask me."
carter had seen enough men back home in their rages to know that a storm was beginning to brew between the two, and as if on instinct, she pulled back a little as tyron got up from his place on the bench and circled her. her eyes never lost his body as he moved, taking the jacket from her lap to drop it back over her shoulders again and then resume his place as if he had never left at all. only when he was seated once more did she feel her heart continue beating in her chest, one hand slowly lifting to touch the collar of the jacket she once again found on her smaller frame. she was almost swimming in it, but of course, she wasn't about to complain. he was clearly bigger then she was. no, not bigger, broader. was that the right word? oh heck she didn't know anymore. all of a sudden she found herself feeling so confused that she could hardly tell up from down.
he had outwardly admitted to the lie, his features set harder then they had been in the short amount of time they had spent together that night, a half hour if she was lucky. but why would he lie about something like that? that was what carter found herself really wanting to know. he suddenly seemed to put up the defensive walls, like he was protecting himself from something. dark eyes tried to scan his face through the darkness, only to find her vision obscured by the flickering light that sat nearby, constantly allowing his face to float in and out of focus. this caused a form to take shape on her face, the first of the evening. how exactly what she supposed to understand and help him the way leon had asked if she wasn't even able to look at him without something stopping her? was it some kind of sign?
no. carter wasn't religious, and even if she was, it just meant that someone from the city needed to get their butt in gear and replace a lightbulb. it didn't hold any supernatural value, or spiritual nonsense for that matter. what she knew was plain and simple. tyron was someone who was holding onto something, and it was clear to carter that he needed help in getting over whatever it was...something to do with music.
"it must have been pretty terrible for you to give it up," she said gently. "i'd go mental without music."
that was how she coped now that her sister was not around to calm her down. carter would seat herself either at the piano or on the bed with her guitar and play until her roommate demanded that she stop. only then could she be able to spend all of the extra energy that was welled up inside of her and stuck there until she found another way of releasing her frustrations. of course, there was always the auditorium at the school, but since there tended to be someone in there at all times, it was not the best place to vent her anger. yet another reason why she was stupid enough to venture into the park at some ungodly hour of the day.
or maybe she was just mental after all.
[/size][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by TYRON ROBERT ROBINSON on Aug 19, 2010 22:53:31 GMT -5
Sanctus Espiritus! Is this what we deserve? Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony? [/sub][/center][/font] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Sister. So she had a sister, huh? Tyron definitely didn’t know that. He’d never had siblings, and never had the urge to want any. He’d mostly hear people complain about their siblings, so why wish for one? He’d been told a million times over that he was lucky to be an only child. He’d never really been overly fond of children either, so it wasn’t like he had that big brotherly nature required to be a sibling. He cared about his cousins, sure, but not that way. Or was it? How was he supposed to know? He didn’t… But he assumed that Carter was fond of her sister, why else would she refer to something the girl had said? Why was he even thinking about it? What did it matter if she had a sibling? What did it matter if she liked her sibling? He didn’t care… So why on earth was he putting so much thought into it? Just shut up. he thought, mentally giving himself a smack. He could really be such a complete idiot some times… Most times… Definitely most times now that he thought about it.
If anyone had mentioned not having music a year and a half ago, he’d have said the same thing she did. That he’d have gone mental without it. In high school he’d always had a guitar in his locker, an iPod in his ears. He’d been developing his own sound, trying to come up with something that was all Tyron. All him. Something that would get him noticed, get him to raise above the rest of guys his age. Music wasn’t everything to him, he wanted good marks too. Why? because he had a realistic mind at the time, so he knew he needed a back up plan. So school and music had always gone neck-and-neck… But of course, music had been ahead by a bit… Mostly because it was less of a chore, and far more enjoyable. He shifted a little, debating what to say to her. He didn’t want to just blurt out his story. He hated talking about it, and he hated to seem as though he was looking for pity. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want any more condolences, he didn’t want to hear people relate. She was gone, he knew that. She’d simply taken music with her. He could live without.
“Leon didn’t tell you? Not surprising… “ he muttered under his breath, He turned his gaze towards her, but past her, eyeing the flickering light with an expression that was pretty much void of emotion. Except for that same taunt jaw. He had the sudden urge to get up and kick it, just to see if it would stop flickering, but he didn’t move. “I would have said the same thing you just did if you’d asked me a couple years ago. I grew up with a guitar in my hands and a piano at my disposal. I had memberships to anything I could that would let me hear about a concert a month before everyone else.” He spoke slowly, keeping his gaze on the light a few moments longer. He took a couple slow breaths. Not because he was about to cry or something silly like that, just because it helped to keep him going. Keep him calm and keep him from snapping something bitterly. Carter seemed a little skittish, so he was trying to be a little wary of that.
“Things happen and people change. That’s all it is.” He finished lamely, pulling his gaze down to focus it on his hands. He felt a slight twinge of discomfort. He didn’t want this topic, this was something he only spoke about to his therapist. He didn’t know why he was even talking to Carter. He balled his hands into fists, hiding them once more up the sleeves of his shirt as a cool breeze weaseled through the thin material. He didn’t give any reaction to the weather. Last thing he wanted was for her to try and give the damned jacket back again…
[/size] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Cred: Me || Song: Solemn Hour, Within Temptation|| Words: 685 Dx || Tag: Carter |
|
|
|
Post by CARTER LYNN JACKSON on Aug 19, 2010 23:15:05 GMT -5
it's a quarter after one, i'm all alone [/colour][/font][/size] and i need you now[/center] so her earlier instincts had been right after all. there was something else going on, something that went much deeper then your typical frustration. a lot of people would take a look at a guitar, think it was cool and sit down to try to play it. but many of them would quickly grow frustrated with the amount of time and effort it required to play one correctly, so they would throw it across the room without a second glance and move on to whatever else seemed fun at the time. there weren't too many people who liked the idea of practising until they became good at something anymore. if they didn't prove to have a natural talent at which they did not have to work, they abandoned the project for something else, something that seemed easier until it too failed them and they focused their attentions on something else.
her sister tessa had always been one that was easily discouraged when things did not turn out the way she had planned. carter could remember one time when she had found her sister sitting on her bed, carter's guitar in her hands as she tried to play it the same way her sister did when she was working on something. the young girl had quickly become frustrated at the lack of music that was being produced from the instrument, and probably would have dropped it had carter not walked in at that moment to stop her. oh, tessa had complained quite a bit about how it wasn't fair that carter knew how to play so well, which had caused the older of the sisters to laugh. nothing came without hardwork and practise, she had said. sometimes if you want something, you have to reach out and get it instead of expecting it to fall into your lap. more wisdom from her mother.
"he said he couldn't tell me what wasn't his to tell."
short of admitting the reason that she had run into him that first time, carter was sure that the boy wasn't stupid. if he knew that leon knew her then there was probably little doubt in his mind that she was there at his request, trying to help the cousin that he could not. and why? well that had yet to be revealed to her, but she had a terrible feeling that it had something to do with the way he was speaking now. it was like flipping a coin, going from anger to a distant voice that once more filled her with concern. damn those motherly instincts, she told herself angrily. it was because of all the time she spent around tessa, trying to help her make her way in life when their mother wasn't around to pass on her wisdom. the last few years had really taken a toll on her, knowing that their mother was trying to be both a good wife and mother while tending to the farm. sometimes she had to leave them for a while, knowing that they could not survive without the money that came from the farm. maybe that was why the two sisters were so close.
but then carter did something impulsive, something so bold that she scared even herself as she did so. her eyes wandered down from his face back to his closed fist, hidden beneath the white of this shirt. already that night he had done that, and seeing the action again made the gears in her mind whirl even faster then before. before she could convince herself to stop, the same hand reached out toward his and gently laid itself on top of his closed fist. it was possibly the most disasterous thing she had done all evening, and depending on his reaction could have hindered her chances of helping him any further. but she felt the need, the compulsion to do something that didn't require as many words.
they didn't seem to do him a lot of good anyway.
"i don't want to pry in business that isn't mine," came those damn words. "but i don't...i don't think that's really all of it."
[/size][/justify] |
|
|
|
Post by TYRON ROBERT ROBINSON on Aug 19, 2010 23:52:40 GMT -5
Sanctus Espiritus! Is this what we deserve? Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony? [/sub][/center][/font] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] That was true. Leon wasn’t one to gossip about everyone’s lives to everyone else. He’d told him a little bit about Carter, but nothing too personal… Just that she was a newbie to New York, that she moved from a southern state (was it Kentucky?) to try to grab onto a Broadway dream. That was about it. Just the general basics. Didn’t seem that he’d done the other way though… Then again, why would he have told Carter about his depressed, pathetic, anti-social cousin? Wasn’t like something most family members wanted to show off. In fact, his own mother had been relieved when he moved out so that she didn’t have to explain why he’d spent hours yelling at the top of his lungs at nothing after the accident. Just anger… He’d sat under his window and just screamed… He didn’t know why, or what he’d said… But apparently it had put the neighbours on edge. Not that he could blame them…
“That’s just like Leon…” He said quietly, rolling his eyes ever so slightly. He didn’t hold it against his cousin… If he’d been in Leon’s position he wouldn’t have told stories that weren’t his to tell… But Tyron would have preferred if Leon had just told her. It would have saved a lot of effort and story telling that Tyron himself didn’t want to do… Would it have been so hard for the guy to just say ‘By the way, mind my cousin, he’s testy. Has been ever since he was driving and got into an accident that killed his girlfriend.’? Way easier then him explaining… Whatever… He told himself, watching the shirt sleeve above his hand move as he flexed the fingers within the closed fist. Clench, unclench… Clench… Unclench…
However je stiffened and froze that movement when Carter’s hand made it’s way to his. He didn’t really know how to respond… For one, why on earth was she trying to comfort him? Also there was the fact that he couldn’t remember when he’d last had physical contact with someone. When he’d slipped into depression he had been very much against physical touch. From anyone. He’d clocked Leon for touching his shoulder to get his attention. So most of the people he knew were afraid to touch him now. Not that he was about to deck Carter, he was over that anger. His brain had mellowed out and he was back to normal. He felt an awkward heat raising up the back of his neck. He stared at her hand for a moment, unsure of how to react… What was he supposed to do. She spoke before he had to worry too much about it and he listened to her words with slight annoyance. She was prying… Into a near stranger’s business. She was lucky he was out of his six month cycle… He hated to think of how he’d have reacted…
“I had an accident that changed my life. So I had to change with it.” He said slowly. He could already feel his chest squeezing slightly, his face softening. He didn’t move his hand, or make a gesture to say he was uncomfortable. In fact, her hand felt very comforting on his cool fist. He brought his gaze upwards from her hand, choosing instead to look over at her. He kept his face neutral, but he knew that his eyes had the usual dull, soft expression he saw in the mirror when he first shook away the nightmares at night. When he calmed down, stopped reliving it and focused more on what really had happened. He didn’t go into any more detail, though he figured she’d press further, despite her wish to not pry into his thoughts. Whether she wanted to or not, she was. And in doing that she was making them come to the forefront of his brain, after his months of burying it to try and kill the guilt. And now? Now everything was coming back, the guilt of being the driver, the guilt of living when she didn’t, the guilt that it happened on the way to something for him. If he’d pressed to just stay home, she’d be alive.
[/size] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/size] Cred: Me || Song: Solemn Hour, Within Temptation|| Words: 701 || Tag: Carter |
|
