Helga
07-02-2009, 04:36 PM
this story I wrote for a reason I can't remember...
Perfect innocence
This story is about a small country, and a small girl. This girl had a big mind, and a big soul. She saw beauty in small things, and she was amazed by life and the opportunities it held. But not for her. She loved life, just not her life. She wrote poetry and took photos of what she felt, not what she saw. She celebrated Lord Byron’s birthday better than her own and recited his poetry as her own. She was no beauty, but she had a glow about her. She would walk up to a bridge everyday, and watch the traffic rush underneath her. She smoked. The smoke rising from her cigarette and fade through the air was beautiful, she longed to be like it and fade away. She was madly in love with life, but like the poet said: You give yourself to love, you give yourself to pain. These words she knew far too well, and often was too scared to reach for what she wanted. Life only gave her obstacles she couldn't cross. She crawled over them painfully, sometimes she made it across, but most of the time she gave up and took a few steps backwards and found away around them. The highway was next to her house. But there was very little traffic there. She would dream about a life she knew she would never have. She would dream about happiness and lust, books and paintings, but most of all she would dream about love. Her pain was only in her soul, so she would hurt herself to feel her body ache. Pins and needles were the weapons of her choice. When she hurt herself she felt better, she felt safe and secure. She would take a short walk daily, to a small bridge were she could smoke. She loved sitting there, alone with her thoughts and watch life pass her by. She always had her camera and a note book with her. Inspiration often came over her as she sat there listening to the traffic.
One day, when she was sitting there reading a sonnet by Shakespeare, a boy sat on the bench beside her. She was deep in thought so she didn’t look up. When she finished reading she glanced at his face. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly she turned back to her book, her face got red, and she didn’t know what to say or how to act. “I saw you were reading sonnet IV, I have always loved that one”, he said and looked at her. She looked into his eyes, his green eyes. She smiled and told him it’s one of her favourite. ‘Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy?’ He recited. They started talking. Poetry, love, the world, life. Everything was open for discussion. They talked for an hour, and decided to meet again the next day. The girl knew only his first name, Julian. He knew only her first name, Helena. They knew nothing about each other, but they were in love. They met every day for a whole year. They touched little, but talked a lot. They expressed their love with poetry. She gave him photos of things she knew he would admire; he gave her paintings he made with her in mind. For the first time in her life she knew happiness. They took long walks by the shore line and through the parks. They lay on the grass under the stars. They knew they were meant for each other. It pained her to leave him, but she always knew she would see him the next day. Their love grew stronger with every day. He was so sweet and gentle. He was perfect. They were perfect. She told him about her insecurities and sadness, and how he made all that change. She loved life now; she looked forward to every day. Everyday brought her a meeting with her love. She started smiling again. She found purpose. They talked about everything, he recited sonnets to her and she took photos of him and what they saw. If she had known that their time together would be cut short, she would have acted differently, most likely not left him out of her sight. But love can always find away to hurt you, and nothing, nothing, lasts forever.
When they had been together for more than a year, Helena wanted more. She wanted a life, family, everything a young girl desires. She wanted to introduce him to her family. She talked about him all the time and she was so happy, she wanted her family to know him and love him too. The next day when she met Julian she asked him to come home with her, he told her he would, in time. She trusted him so she let it go. She wanted to enjoy her time with him. So did he. They walked around town for hours. Talking, laughing, kissing. Julian asked her to stay with him, over the weekend. That request made her so happy, he wanted her too. They met on the bridge on a Friday. She had a backpack with everything she needed. She sat there smoking when he came. He had been watching her for a few minuets before she saw him. She was so beautiful, perfection. She smiled, when she saw him. The sun setting behind him, he glowed. She stood up and he held her, close. They were quiet for a few minuets. She started crying. She didn’t know why, but something saddened her.
He told her he had a car nearby. They started driving, she didn’t know where. They stopped at a small hotel, a bed and breakfast. They were there at six o’clock. They had dinner, beautiful candlelit dinner. She finally felt like she belonged. He knew about the scars on her wrists, and the needle holes in her legs. He knew everything about her. She had nothing to hide. They went back to their room. His kisses were so tender and soft. She wanted him, he wanted her. Among the things they knew about each other was that she was a virgin, he, being older was not. He had experience, and a lot of it. But she trusted him, so everything was alright. That night was the best and worst night of her life. It hurt, she bled she felt like her skin was being cut, and ripped apart. But nothing mattered except being with him. She cried and bit her lip ‘till it bled. The pain was almost unbearable, but the thought of being with him her first time gave her so much pleasure, she didn’t want to let that feeling go away. Afterwards he held her close and told her how much he loved her. The pain was gone and now it was only pleasure. She fell asleep in his arms, but he didn’t. He lay awake for hours, staring into the dead air. There was something wrong. He held her so tight, like he was afraid that if he let go she would disappear forever. She did.
The next morning Helena woke up before Julian, she sat on a bench outside their room and smoked. She was so happy. She thought about her life, before him. She didn’t have the same feelings as she did before. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to hurt herself, looking at the scars she saw a past she didn’t want to go back too. She wanted to live, a full adventurous life, with him. She chain smoked for an hour before he woke up. Everything made sense to her now. The world, everything. She felt like one of the characters in the stories she read. Helena and Julian, a love story. The pain from the night before was forgotten; she wanted to be with him again. When he woke up, he joined her. They sat quiet for a while. Watching the smoke from their cigarettes fade away. “I’m glad I’m not the smoke”, Helena said. Smiling. He didn’t know why she said that, but smiled. They had breakfast and took a long walk. After a while Julian asked her about the night before. She stopped him and told him she wanted to do it again, and for the rest of her life. They walked back to the hotel and lay down in bed. They lay there in bed for a while, in each others arms, quiet. Nothing needed to be said. Everything was right. He started kissing her and removing her clothes, she did the same. She didn’t care if it would hurt again, she wanted to feel him so close, she wanted to feel him moving inside her. This was a closeness she had never experienced before. When he kissed her neck, she trembled with pleasure. They were naked, alone. He touched her so softly and so sweetly, he moved inside her, she bit her lip and…
It didn’t hurt anymore. She had a feeling she had never felt before. The pleasure was driving her mad. Everything he did made this feeling more extreme. She lay on his chest and he held her. The passion in her eyes was obvious to him and he held her tighter. She had no idea, what would happen next. He did. The next morning they woke up late, it was Sunday. They planned to leave in the evening. She didn’t want to go. He told her about a place he used to visit with his parents as a kid. It was close by. They took a walk and he wanted to show her a small river he used to play by. It was beautiful. There were wild flowers all over in every colour she could imagine. The water was warm, she dipped her toes in. He sat down behind her, with his leg down in the water with hers. He held her tight. She felt so secure. They talked about the birds and flowers around them. She was impressed with his knowledge. They dangled their toes in the water for a while, he kissed her. After a while they started walking, barefoot, holding their shoes in one hand and each other with the other hand. The grass was so soft and clean. It had rain the night before. They came to a bushy area. Julian wanted her to see his secret hideout from the time he spent there as a kid. He used a rock and started digging under one tree. She sat nearby and watched him. He didn’t need to dig very deep until he found a wooden box. He brought the box to Helena. In his back pocket was a small key. Julian gave her the key and told her to open the box. She did. In it she found letters, letters and diaries. He took everything out of the box. His first love-letter, diaries from his childhood and a small box was at the bottom. He opened the box; there was a gold ring in it. He told her that it was from his great-great- grandmother, her wedding ring. He kneeled down and asked Helena, to be his wife. She said yes.
It was getting dark; they made love under the stars.
She lay, naked on the grass. He was beside her looking down at her. He grabbed the rock he had used to dig the box up. He looked into her eyes and whispered: Such perfect innocence, she made round her a halo of delight.
He threw the rock onto her head, again and again. She didn’t scream or cry, just stared at him as he killed her. He cried, but kept hitting her. There was blood all over his face. She was dead. He dragged her under a tree and cleaned her face, still crying. He stood up, got dressed and kissed her good-bye. He started walking away.
She lay, naked on the grass.
Perfect innocence
This story is about a small country, and a small girl. This girl had a big mind, and a big soul. She saw beauty in small things, and she was amazed by life and the opportunities it held. But not for her. She loved life, just not her life. She wrote poetry and took photos of what she felt, not what she saw. She celebrated Lord Byron’s birthday better than her own and recited his poetry as her own. She was no beauty, but she had a glow about her. She would walk up to a bridge everyday, and watch the traffic rush underneath her. She smoked. The smoke rising from her cigarette and fade through the air was beautiful, she longed to be like it and fade away. She was madly in love with life, but like the poet said: You give yourself to love, you give yourself to pain. These words she knew far too well, and often was too scared to reach for what she wanted. Life only gave her obstacles she couldn't cross. She crawled over them painfully, sometimes she made it across, but most of the time she gave up and took a few steps backwards and found away around them. The highway was next to her house. But there was very little traffic there. She would dream about a life she knew she would never have. She would dream about happiness and lust, books and paintings, but most of all she would dream about love. Her pain was only in her soul, so she would hurt herself to feel her body ache. Pins and needles were the weapons of her choice. When she hurt herself she felt better, she felt safe and secure. She would take a short walk daily, to a small bridge were she could smoke. She loved sitting there, alone with her thoughts and watch life pass her by. She always had her camera and a note book with her. Inspiration often came over her as she sat there listening to the traffic.
One day, when she was sitting there reading a sonnet by Shakespeare, a boy sat on the bench beside her. She was deep in thought so she didn’t look up. When she finished reading she glanced at his face. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly she turned back to her book, her face got red, and she didn’t know what to say or how to act. “I saw you were reading sonnet IV, I have always loved that one”, he said and looked at her. She looked into his eyes, his green eyes. She smiled and told him it’s one of her favourite. ‘Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy?’ He recited. They started talking. Poetry, love, the world, life. Everything was open for discussion. They talked for an hour, and decided to meet again the next day. The girl knew only his first name, Julian. He knew only her first name, Helena. They knew nothing about each other, but they were in love. They met every day for a whole year. They touched little, but talked a lot. They expressed their love with poetry. She gave him photos of things she knew he would admire; he gave her paintings he made with her in mind. For the first time in her life she knew happiness. They took long walks by the shore line and through the parks. They lay on the grass under the stars. They knew they were meant for each other. It pained her to leave him, but she always knew she would see him the next day. Their love grew stronger with every day. He was so sweet and gentle. He was perfect. They were perfect. She told him about her insecurities and sadness, and how he made all that change. She loved life now; she looked forward to every day. Everyday brought her a meeting with her love. She started smiling again. She found purpose. They talked about everything, he recited sonnets to her and she took photos of him and what they saw. If she had known that their time together would be cut short, she would have acted differently, most likely not left him out of her sight. But love can always find away to hurt you, and nothing, nothing, lasts forever.
When they had been together for more than a year, Helena wanted more. She wanted a life, family, everything a young girl desires. She wanted to introduce him to her family. She talked about him all the time and she was so happy, she wanted her family to know him and love him too. The next day when she met Julian she asked him to come home with her, he told her he would, in time. She trusted him so she let it go. She wanted to enjoy her time with him. So did he. They walked around town for hours. Talking, laughing, kissing. Julian asked her to stay with him, over the weekend. That request made her so happy, he wanted her too. They met on the bridge on a Friday. She had a backpack with everything she needed. She sat there smoking when he came. He had been watching her for a few minuets before she saw him. She was so beautiful, perfection. She smiled, when she saw him. The sun setting behind him, he glowed. She stood up and he held her, close. They were quiet for a few minuets. She started crying. She didn’t know why, but something saddened her.
He told her he had a car nearby. They started driving, she didn’t know where. They stopped at a small hotel, a bed and breakfast. They were there at six o’clock. They had dinner, beautiful candlelit dinner. She finally felt like she belonged. He knew about the scars on her wrists, and the needle holes in her legs. He knew everything about her. She had nothing to hide. They went back to their room. His kisses were so tender and soft. She wanted him, he wanted her. Among the things they knew about each other was that she was a virgin, he, being older was not. He had experience, and a lot of it. But she trusted him, so everything was alright. That night was the best and worst night of her life. It hurt, she bled she felt like her skin was being cut, and ripped apart. But nothing mattered except being with him. She cried and bit her lip ‘till it bled. The pain was almost unbearable, but the thought of being with him her first time gave her so much pleasure, she didn’t want to let that feeling go away. Afterwards he held her close and told her how much he loved her. The pain was gone and now it was only pleasure. She fell asleep in his arms, but he didn’t. He lay awake for hours, staring into the dead air. There was something wrong. He held her so tight, like he was afraid that if he let go she would disappear forever. She did.
The next morning Helena woke up before Julian, she sat on a bench outside their room and smoked. She was so happy. She thought about her life, before him. She didn’t have the same feelings as she did before. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to hurt herself, looking at the scars she saw a past she didn’t want to go back too. She wanted to live, a full adventurous life, with him. She chain smoked for an hour before he woke up. Everything made sense to her now. The world, everything. She felt like one of the characters in the stories she read. Helena and Julian, a love story. The pain from the night before was forgotten; she wanted to be with him again. When he woke up, he joined her. They sat quiet for a while. Watching the smoke from their cigarettes fade away. “I’m glad I’m not the smoke”, Helena said. Smiling. He didn’t know why she said that, but smiled. They had breakfast and took a long walk. After a while Julian asked her about the night before. She stopped him and told him she wanted to do it again, and for the rest of her life. They walked back to the hotel and lay down in bed. They lay there in bed for a while, in each others arms, quiet. Nothing needed to be said. Everything was right. He started kissing her and removing her clothes, she did the same. She didn’t care if it would hurt again, she wanted to feel him so close, she wanted to feel him moving inside her. This was a closeness she had never experienced before. When he kissed her neck, she trembled with pleasure. They were naked, alone. He touched her so softly and so sweetly, he moved inside her, she bit her lip and…
It didn’t hurt anymore. She had a feeling she had never felt before. The pleasure was driving her mad. Everything he did made this feeling more extreme. She lay on his chest and he held her. The passion in her eyes was obvious to him and he held her tighter. She had no idea, what would happen next. He did. The next morning they woke up late, it was Sunday. They planned to leave in the evening. She didn’t want to go. He told her about a place he used to visit with his parents as a kid. It was close by. They took a walk and he wanted to show her a small river he used to play by. It was beautiful. There were wild flowers all over in every colour she could imagine. The water was warm, she dipped her toes in. He sat down behind her, with his leg down in the water with hers. He held her tight. She felt so secure. They talked about the birds and flowers around them. She was impressed with his knowledge. They dangled their toes in the water for a while, he kissed her. After a while they started walking, barefoot, holding their shoes in one hand and each other with the other hand. The grass was so soft and clean. It had rain the night before. They came to a bushy area. Julian wanted her to see his secret hideout from the time he spent there as a kid. He used a rock and started digging under one tree. She sat nearby and watched him. He didn’t need to dig very deep until he found a wooden box. He brought the box to Helena. In his back pocket was a small key. Julian gave her the key and told her to open the box. She did. In it she found letters, letters and diaries. He took everything out of the box. His first love-letter, diaries from his childhood and a small box was at the bottom. He opened the box; there was a gold ring in it. He told her that it was from his great-great- grandmother, her wedding ring. He kneeled down and asked Helena, to be his wife. She said yes.
It was getting dark; they made love under the stars.
She lay, naked on the grass. He was beside her looking down at her. He grabbed the rock he had used to dig the box up. He looked into her eyes and whispered: Such perfect innocence, she made round her a halo of delight.
He threw the rock onto her head, again and again. She didn’t scream or cry, just stared at him as he killed her. He cried, but kept hitting her. There was blood all over his face. She was dead. He dragged her under a tree and cleaned her face, still crying. He stood up, got dressed and kissed her good-bye. He started walking away.
She lay, naked on the grass.