Jump to content


Hazel Eyes

Recommended Posts

I haven't been on here in a while :raise: but I've decided to make a comeback.

This is a non-star wars fiction right? But yeah, this is just something I've written and want some feedback on. :) I hope you enjoy it!

btw. this is just a prologue, so please understand the epically short chapter. The next chapters are much longer.




Hazel Eyes




I should never have passed it off as a simple admiration of fashion. I knew it was more, the way I saw her and my stomach flipped in an uncomfortable way – yeah, I just figured it was like a 'role model' sort of thing. I figured... it's nothing. I told myself “shut up, Sara, you're completely straight”. Well, that all went down the drain, when Jac and Amanda got together. I knew it had been my own fault, and I knew I was far too afraid to tell anyone I wasn't actually straight, but bisexual, yet it still all boiled down to one thing: I really did like Amanda. And Jac, being my best friend, was in a serious relationship with her, which, as you can imagine, was a hurtful, horrible thing to endure.


The day we'd all met was quite a typical Saturday. Jac and I were on our way to Castlefield, which is where we usually hung out with friends, every Summer since we were fifteen. We were sixteen, then, and we had beer in our bags, readying ourselves to get as drunk as possible, as fast as we could, so we were sober in time to evade our parent's suspecting eyes. The two of us had merely settled down, when two of our friends, Jean McGuinness and Sam Cody, sat down with a person we hadn't met before. Amanda Brown. Least to say, we all got along fine. We all got her number, her e-mail... yeah, it was brilliant.


I was in complete denial about my sexuality, unable to tell anyone. Even Jac, my best friend had no idea whatsoever... it must have had something to do with my Social Anxiety, as a child, or perhaps my trust issues still hadn't wavered. But nevertheless, I just wouldn't admit to myself that I'd taken a liking to Amanda. And what made it worse... was she was bisexual, herself. I knew I probably could have told her, but the implications of letting a random person know about possibly my greatest secret was definitely not a good idea. So I left it, and let the friendship remain as it was.


How stupid was I, really?


Well, the day continued, and news had reached me that Amanda and Jac had become rather close in the short amount of time. I supposed it was all down to the drink, since the two of them were just as drunk as I, but it still stung to know they had kissed. I didn't like it, but I suppose that was the first real indication that I must have liked her. You see, it wasn't as if I'd only discovered myself as bisexual upon seeing her, but it had been something I'd struggled to come to terms with for years. And six years on, it still wasn't any easier for me. So denial was my best option, even though I sort of knew it, deep down.


Either way, Jac, Amanda and I are all seventeen now, and their relationship has lasted a total of six months. The funny thing is, so have my feelings for her, and I guess that's the one thing I'm terrified about.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

hope you enjoy :D


Chapter One


“Gizz' a light, Lawrence,” Jac demanded, a cigarette dangling from his toothy grin, as he leant over Amanda's casually lying frame. I observed, cross-legged on the grass of Castlefield, as my best friend lit his fag, relieving the Richmond stick from his mouth for a few moments as he planted a quick peck on her lips. “Cheers, mate,” he uttered, handing back the lighter he'd used, to Lawrence. I looked down, instantaneously, biting my lip. ****ing typical...


It truly was. Here I was, attempting to relax on the grass with a few friends, and I was thrown head first into a envy-ridden self-loathing, forced to endure Amanda's and Jac's love-stricken atmosphere. It wasn't as if I was being ungrateful – I loved Jac, he was amazing. He always stuck his neck out for me, did what he could when I felt blue, always managed to put a smile on my face; he simply just had no idea that he was the main source of the strife. And the worst thing? I was a girl, and I was practically in love with his girlfriend. The entirety of the situation was just bizarre, even I knew this.


I glanced around to Jenny and Lawrence, whom were lying on the grass, their blue alchopops and cans of beer hanging half-empty from their loose grips. The drink had truly set in, and as the darkening night drew closer, the calmness was simply increasing. I may have hated watching Jac kiss the one I liked, but it was days like these that made me smile. At least I get to spend time with her, I figured, an unintentional grin rising across my features.


“Hey, Sara, you still coming back to Jac's tonight for my birthday?” Amanda's voice rung in my ears, and my mode of address snapped around to her. I just stared for a moment, drinking in her shoulder length, auburn hair, sizzling under the sunset... rising and falling in the slight breeze. And then, I made eye contact. Her hazel eyes were so... I didn't know... refreshing? They just had this calming effect on me, like a warm blanket, and then my head would start to spin...


I stammered, “Er, yeah,” nodding quickly, to shake the light headedness that was rushing through my senses. “'Course I am,” my smile extended itself, even more, and she returned the expression with sevenfold grace. The snakebite Labrets just below her lip pointed outwards, at the movement of lips, and my heart leapt. God, she was gorgeous. Even something so simple and effortless was like watching a work of art.


Jac interjected through my thoughts, blowing a puff of smoke out through his nostrils, and then through the same toothy smirk as earlier: “we're gonna' get a bit drunk when we're at mine, yeah? My mum got us some cider in, and a bit of Bacardi Breezer, if you want it,” and then the cigarette was back in his mouth, yet again. I looked over at him, Amanda lying down across his sprawled out legs, her hands interlinked as they rose and fell, with the rhythm of her breathing, on her stomach.


I let out a “yeah”, followed by more apologies from Jenny and Lawrence, insisting that they could not attend Amanda's seventeenth birthday 'sleepover' at Jac's. “You see, it's just... work tomorrow, y'know, and I'm on an early shift – I'm really so sorry,” the guy would drawl. “Yeah, you know I've got my auntie's wedding tomorrow, shame really, I was looking forward to a few drinks with you on your seventeenth,” the girl would explain. The two of them had uttered these excuses all week, and Amanda had forgiven and forgotten, long before the present day, yet they still persisted as if they owed her the same repetitive explanations. I suppose they are true, I thought to myself, but Lawrence's is **** – I'm on an early shift tomorrow, but I'm still going... I glanced from Lawrence, to Amanda, studying her outline, absorbed in my gaze, then again, it's not like Lawrence fancies the face off Amanda... still, they were supposed to be her good friends.


“Does anyone know what time it is?” Amanda enquired, peering around at us.


I pulled my phone from my jeans pocket, flipping the top backwards to reveal a screen filled up with a picture of Jac, Amanda and I. I scanned my vision over the time, at the top left, and spoke aloud what I had read: “It's eight o'clock.”


“We best get going, then, ey?” Amanda insisted, sitting up from Jac's lap and wrapping her arms beneath her bent legs, outstretched before her. “You ready, Sara?”


I stared directly into those hazel eyes, enveloped in her gaze, as a grin jumped onto my expression. “Yeah, tonight's going to be well good,” now, I showed my teeth in an exhilarated sense of joy. God, my stomach always flipped when she stared at me like that. It really was something else. “Get a few DVDs out, bit of booze, dancing – yeah... let's go.” I finished my sentence off with an incredible chug of my cider, and let it roll from my grasp to the ground, empty. Sure, I was a huge believer in doing your part for the community, but I was under the influence... littering wasn't really an option.


“Good times,” Jac chuckled, and with a swift lift of his arm, he placed a strong hand on Amanda's cheek, pulling her in for a kiss. The position was awkward, her neck twisted all the way around, as Jac was located behind her, and his head tilted to the wrong side. I guess I was just being picky. I observed, very much against my will, overwhelmed by a tide of emotion. Their lips brushed, intertwined, their tongues erratic, Jac's hands all over her. I felt sick. Physically sick. My heart felt as if it had tied itself in knots and turned to stone, simultaneous to my stomach tightening inside itself. Eurgh, this just isn't right... I told myself, forcing my concentration elsewhere, it just so isn't right... she's a girl, and he's your best friend... stop it, Sara.


And so we departed, Jac's and Amanda's hands interlocked, stroking the other, with Jac's arm linked through my arched elbow, and the odd joke thrown over from Amanda to me and vice versa. The city radiated with busy life, with the sense of never stopping, and the stresses of everyday life coming to a halt and being thrust face first into excessive indulgence.




The main light was swaying, music blasting through the house we were situated in. We were present in Jac's bedroom, a thrill rushing through my veins. The drink had surely gotten to my head, and everything was happening so quickly. I couldn't quite recall the amount of alcohol I had consumed upon arriving at Jac's house, but I was wrapped in his bed quilt with Amanda, singing along to the song that was rippling through the atmosphere.


“'Cause everything everything makes me think of you

And everything everything that I wanna' do

I know you can see now when you look at me

I want you, so tell me now

Do you? Do you? Want me too?”


I was laughing quite loudly, the two of us rocking side by side with a beer bottle in both our farthest arms. Jac instantaneously threw himself onto the double bed, an unopened alchopop in his grip, and his shirt unbuttoned to the point where his entire torso was in view. Ruffling up my hair with his strong hands, he stuck his tongue out at me, merry from the drink, and slid an eased arm around Amanda's waist.


The room was particularly big, as Jac's parents were somewhat middle class. Or at least, that was what I'd always figured. His father was an author and his mother didn't work, but what ever work they had contributed their skills to earlier in life, had truly paid off on their home. The furniture was wooden – mahogany to be exact, and his bed frame was constructed of oak. I was no expert on tree types, but Jac's family had made sure that all his friends knew just how well off they were. I didn't mind it too much; I rather liked the royal blue paint and the blood red rugs, patterned with golden lining. He even had a loft, which extended from Jac's bedroom roof... we weren't permitted to go in, though, but the warmth of this room provided us with enough comfort, anyway.


“So, mister, why don't you grab us some more drinks?” Amanda glanced sideways at my best friend, a sly yet confident smirk evident on her flawless features, those snakebites revealing themselves again. “Or else no more kisses for you,” she bit her tongue and sniggered. I could not tell whether she was intending to flirt or to indeed, ask for more drinks. Nonetheless, I watched, in curiosity. “Go on then, handsome,” and then she winked, patting him on the back.


“Hey!” Jac responded with a seductive smile, mock-offence in his voice. “Don't be so pushy, Manda.”


“Oi, don't call me that,” Amanda threatened, a deadly seriousness in her tone. She hated that nickname with a passion. “Just get our drinks, please, it's my birthday.” She made a somewhat innocent expression, looking up from beneath her auburn locks, and a slight smile on her lips. “Go on, and I'll have a surprise for you when you get back.” I felt my stomach pang, painfully, at this comment.


“Ooh,” Jac winked, “I'm on it,” and with that, he had exited the room, the door sliding slowly to a halt, and slightly ajar.


“God, what a horny bastard,” I blurted out, laughing to myself. “Best friend or no, he's such a typical boy,” I raised my eyebrows at Amanda, taking a haste swig of my beer, yet again. She mimicked my movement.


Her euphoric expression faded quite slowly, peering down at the beer bottle she had just drank from, and then switched her mode of address so her beautiful brown eyes were focused on my green ones. “Well, you're completely right,” she admitted, a hint of sadness shining through in her words. I felt my stomach tug, and guilt washed over me. “All he really thinks about is what 'reward' is at the end of sucking up to me... or at least, that's what it feels like.”


“Oh come on, you don't mean that...” I insisted.


“But it is true!”


My eyebrows raised themselves in sympathy as I placed an arm around Amanda's shoulders, in a comforting fashion. Usually, I wouldn't have been so quick to embrace, but the drink was catalysing my confidence. I pulled her into a hug, and she wrapped her arms around me, the drunkness obvious, now. “Look, he's not like that, yeah?” we broke apart, and I smiled at her, my heart beating fast. I could have told her to end it, I could have been that friend, but I just couldn't... “Jac's a typical boy, yeah, but he's much more than that, too.” I noticed her pull a face that just screamed 'yeah right'. “Hey, he loves you, Amanda. And so what? He enjoys the 'rewards' – I'm sure everyone does.” I chuckled.


“But you know what I mean, don't you?” She sighed, and still somewhat close to me, I felt her hot breath on my face. “He's always flirting with other girls, you've seen him, surely?”


“Well, yeah,” I muttered, absent-mindedly, transfixed by her outline. “He's bound to, if he's had a drink though--”


Before I knew it, Jac had assumed his place on the bed, after re-entering through his beautifully carved bedroom door. The silence quickly wavered, as he planted a swift kiss on Amanda's cheek and handed the two of us yet another can of cider. “Happy now, sweetie?” he enquired, using his warm and enchanting smile to ease the tension in the room. “So where's this reward?” he laughed.


I caught a quick glance from Amanda, her eyes full of what I interpreted as sorrow with a hint of annoyance. I really didn't understand... Jac and Amanda always seemed so perfect, and Jac appeared to be the ideal boyfriend for her. She was confident, he was confident. She was beautiful, he was handsome. They both shared the same friends. They both enjoyed similar things, like... well, there was room for improvement, but still. The spark was there.


“Ahh, I changed my mind,” she teased, kissing the tips of her fingers and blowing the 'kiss' to him. This made me smile inwardly, and I quickly glanced in the opposite direction. Then again... perhaps she doesn't want the spark to be there... perhaps there's someone else...


And then my head swam with dizziness, again. Jealousy wasn't something I'd show, but hell, I felt it.


“Hey, Sara,” I heard Jac call, and my attention snapped back into reality. “You okay? You're being quiet, tonight,” the care in his voice cracked through. He never liked to show it, but he was a secretive agony aunt. Well... when he wasn't kissing Amanda or showing off his money.


I cleared my throat, my eyes darting between the two faces before me, and stammered: “Er, y-yeah, I'm absolutely fine. Just a bit drunk, y'know?”


I lied.


“I wanna go too far

Finding who you are

I'm too close to turn around

I think I figured you out

And I want so bad to kiss you

'Cause everything, everything

Makes me think of you...”

Link to comment
Share on other sites

What an awesome come back for one of the forums best writers!!!!


Welcome back, B! :D


I like this. A lot.

And not for the typical reasons you would think why a guy would like this type of story either.


The characters (especially Sara) are full of emotion and depth and still have potential to grow.

It's a well done in my books, and I can't wait to read some more.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I apologise in advance for the swearing ;)

And thank you for the feedback!





Chapter Two


I threw my arms down upon the welcoming desk of my work place, exhausted and utterly in pain from the all-nighter I had pulled the night before, at Jac's. My eyes, half-open and steadily dropping, focussed on the menus laid out before me, scanning their contents but taking none of it in. In fact, I had viewed the same menus so frequently, I was already knowledgeable to what they read: Eccles Park Golf Club, Finest Restaurant. It's pale yellow colouring made my stomach twist, upon recalling the colour of the alchopops I had consumed at Jac's house, and the the murky colour of sick, that had yet to rear it's ugly head.


This hangover was dreadful.


I wore a white blouse, tight and fitted to my somewhat poorly-held frame, and a pair of jet black trousers, as custom uniform for the job. I was, in essence, a waitress... however, I had been shifted aside tonight to make room for the better dressed, better groomed staff. Well... that, and my boss was angered at my late arrival. I never seemed to be able to please the bastard. Nonetheless, being asked to wait beside the door, to smile and hand menus to the guests was exactly the kind of doss I'd needed, after such an alcohol-heavy night.


Despite the fact that the maroon corridor walls were plastered with medals, awards and famous signatures, I felt quite unaccomplished and contemplative. I knew I shouldn't have been thinking it, but Amanda was constantly on my mind. It was as if I was secretly hurting Jac without even doing anything – well, at least, that was what it felt like. Besides, I couldn't cease how I felt; if I could, these feelings would have evaporated long ago... in fact, if I could help it, I would only be interested in guys. But nothing ever goes as planned...--


“Ahem, excuse me?” A smartly dressed, brunette woman, accompanied by a balding middle-aged man, pulled me from my thoughts. Without focussing on the rudeness rattling in her voice, I shot up into a straight posture, flashed a false grin and handed her a menu.


“Enjoy your evening,” I muttered, my voice hoarse and broken.


And with that, the two customers sauntered past me, swiftly, and down the hallway into the dining room, with the other guests. I slouched back down again, my muscles lacking the ability to care about my physical display, and shut my lids, peacefully. Ah, darkness...


Nonetheless, the main aspect of Amanda that was nagging at me, and had done so since the night before, was the fact that she no longer believed Jac truly loved her. Or perhaps it was that I didn't believe she truly loved Jac. She has been known to cheat before, I mused, worry crawling along my spine, but she wouldn't cheat on Jac, would she? She's better than that... I furrowed my brows and shook my head, somewhat. No, she definitely wouldn't, you're just jumping to conclusions, Sara. I sighed, tapping my fingers gently on the wooden carving of a menu stand. I felt like a priest at some sort of alter. If anything, she just likes another guy or girl or something... and there it was: that painful pang of jealousy--


Beep beep!


I let out a loud gasp, completely taken aback by the sudden ear splitting sound, and held my hand over my heart until it had slowed it's pace. I hated being so jumpy! After a few moments of silence, I reached into my trouser pockets, and pulled out my mobile phone, as that had been the source of my fear-induced fit. Typed across the screen were the words: New message from Jac Deese. Pressing a half-hearted thumb down on the 'select' button, the message revealed itself:


--Hey, Sara, having fun in work? :-) Last night was mint, don't you think? x--


I began typing away, to reply, and quickly scanned over my message, before sending it back:


--Shut it, Jac :-P and yeah I had fun, and I'm sure Amanda did too. x--


Dropping my phone back into my pocket, I fell head first back into my ocean of thoughts. I daydreamed far too much. God Sara... why couldn't you just have told her you liked her, before she started going out with your best friend? Now everything has gone to ****, I told myself, biting my lip in regret. It was so difficult pretending that everything was fine, and not being able to start relationships with other people, because I could not move on. I felt like some kind of obsessive freak, also, because I had fallen so hard for her, and yet, we were mere friends. Why do you like her, Sara? I thought to myself. “Urgh...”


The thing was... there were so many reasons. Her beautiful chestnut orbs, those shoulder length auburn locks, that short chuckle she let out when she thought the littlest things were hilarious, her caring nature, her naturally inspiring confidence... and the way her lip piercing studs pronounced themselves when her rosy lips sprung into a smile. Shut up, Sara, I demanded of myself, yet again. I simply could not muster the words to express the guilt I felt, and simultaneously, the heartache I was experiencing. I was seventeen... I wasn't supposed to be wasting my life away like this.


Beep beep!


Another text message had reached my phone, seeking my attention, and I gladly gave it. Anything was better than standing within the confines of a dark corridor, whilst observing the sunlight beam down, just out of reach, through the exit door. Which, might I add, had been set ajar, so I could see perfectly well what I was missing out on: a back garden book-reading session, in the sun, to rid my mind of these infectious thoughts.


I snapped my phone out of my pocket, and found that Jac had replied to my message:


--yeah, I hope so. I really do love her :-) I can't believe how lucky I am. Do you like anyone at the moment? x--


My heart found itself leaping at several points during the text message, pounding painfully against my ribcage as if it needed to escape. My head swam, aiding the hangover to do more damage to my already feeble condition, as I felt myself sway from left to right. Surely emotion wasn't inflicting these horrible effects upon me? Surely it was just the consequences of consuming too much beer? I clamped the phone between a tensed hand and the wooden framing of the stand, before me, as I closed my eyes, yet again. I needed to get out of this situation; I could no longer live like this. Something had to be done about my feelings for Amanda. I felt pathetic and needy, and entirely dependant upon her, to even enjoy my day. If I had no word from her throughout the entirety of a day, I would conclude that it hadn't gone well, yet if she sent me a simple text insisting she was bored, my heart would fill with joy, to the point of bursting. It just was not right.


I began texting, in response:


--Aww, how lovely. And no I don't like anyone, really... I'm boring, as usual! x--


And then it was sent. How much of a bad friend am I? I enquired in my mind, hoping someone in the pits of my thoughts would reply. It's ridiculous. Pathetic. Pointless.


A series of late arrivers approached the welcoming desk, and I sent them on their way, following the same path as the customers earlier. Deciding that no more people would arrive for the meal that had already commenced, I undid my top button to my blouse and combed my fingers through my fringe, from front to back, exhausted. At least I was getting paid for this big, dull, monotonous chore.


Beep beep!


I had no desire to view the next message, presuming it was from Jac. My stomach could no longer withstand the spasms of guilt and anguish washing about inside it, and my heart was ready to somersault out of my mouth... along with remnants of food and drink from the night before. I needed to clear my head, get away from the drama of being a bisexual teenage girl, who was still in the closet, for a day. Sighing, nonetheless, I forced myself to read the text, and to my astonishment, the name of whom it was sent by was not Jac, but “Amanda Brown”.


With great haste and enthusiasm, I slammed my thumb down upon the 'select' button to view the message, and soon after, caught myself beaming down at my mobile. Despite the great resentment I felt from this reaction, I could not tame my excitement, and merely read on, the smile persisting, throughout:


--Hey, hope you're not too bored :-/ was just wondering if you wanted to go shopping some time during the week? xo--


The May half term: plenty of time to do what ever I wished, which included spending time around Amanda, and possibly even getting my head around what to do, whilst still holding onto our friendship. Shopping was a fantastic idea – something that friends often did together, and what other options did I have? I had already tried to ignore the fact I liked her, in the past, however that ended miserably, when Amanda thought I hated her, and each day I spent away from her, it hurt more and more. It sounded pathetic, but it truly was like some kind of illness, and I was too afraid to take the medication necessary to rid of it – whatever that 'medication' was.


I began tapping away at the keys, being careful to word my message so that I didn't appear too eager:


--Yeah, sure, shopping sounds great :-) I need something to spend my money on anyway. When did you have in mind? x--


And before I knew it, the text message was sent. I waited patiently, tapping my feet against the rough and disgustingly coloured bronze carpet. My phone was still held firmly in my hand as I rapped the surface of it's edge, waiting for her to reply. I felt the beautiful breeze of early onset Summer brushing the hairs on my arms and stroking my skin; time seemed to be slowing down and taking forever to pass by.


Beep beep!


My thumb reacted before I had chance to think it, and the 'select' button was clicked, the message being summoned across my phone screen:


--How about Tuesday? I'm free then! xo--


I typed my reply:


--Yeah, that's fine. See you then :-) x--


I grinned at my 'accomplishment' of sorts, eyes still bearing down upon my mobile phone, as if I stared long enough, Amanda would jump out of it and drag me away from this hell-hole. Nonetheless, before I could register what had occurred next, I felt a fierce gust of wind, as an epic pile of menus threw themselves down upon the counter, before my eyes. I let out a shriek of utter panic, and hopped back from the stand, colliding with a well built, far taller figure, behind me. My heart was pounding. Please don't be Derek... I prayed. Derek, you see, was my boss... and I knew all too well it was him.


“Sara,” I heard the familiar voice of my short-fused boss mumble. I clenched my eyes shut tight in sheer resentment, preparing for one hell of a yelling, and turned about on my heel.


“Yes, sir?” I responded, politely.


“Don't talk **** with me!” His voice boomed, and my eyes widened in shock. “If I find you slacking one more time, you're outta' here, got it, kid? There's plenty o' people who'd kill to have a job here, yeah?” I merely swallowed the shock that seemed to have gotten caught in my throat, and nodded in comprehension. “And put that bastard piece of crap away,” he gestured towards my mobile, and instantaneously, it was hidden away in my pocket. “Smarten up, for gods sake. We've got a reputation to uphold!”


I hated that guy.




The pavement slabs beneath my feet conveyed the impression that they would go on forever, the soles of my shoes wearing and scraping along their contents. My eyes were wry and exhausted, just desperate for some relaxation and sleep, as I was plodding, lazily, along the road to my home, the sunset hidden by phenomenal cloud cover. I always loved the sunset – there was always just something so inspiring about it; something that kept you going... and I had to.


Finally reaching the entrance to my house garden, I pushed through the gate and quickened my pace up until I halted at point blank range near the door. I noted that my mother's green Punto was parked outside, so I knocked on the door in a rather exhausted manner. Seconds passed. Minutes passed. Becoming impatient, I rapped my knuckles even harder against the wooden framework, the sound becoming louder. More minutes passed... and still no answer.


“****s sake, mum,” I mumbled to myself, and without any further ado, I whipped out the house key and unlocked the door, revealing a long corridor stretching outward.


The house was shrouded in a thick blanket of darkness, the floor before me barely noticable from my perspective. The only source of light that emitted from the house, was the kitchen light, which extended in the form of a thin line, protruding from the somewhat ajar door. I furrowed my brows, uncertainty washing over me, as the sound of water gushing from the taps. Was someone in?


“Mum?” I exclaimed, my voice recoiling off the walls, struggling to get far, above the constant rush of water, from the kitchen. “Mum?” I called again. Something's going on... I thought to myself, a sudden wave of heat overwhelming my body. Has someone broken in? ****, ****, ****... I bit my lip.


I came to the conclusion that whatever had occurred was now over, whether a break in or something of that nature... so therefore, I forced my legs forward, one in front of the other, one at a time. My breathing had lost it's calmness, and was now being controlled by the anxiety that struck my entirety. My feet took me down the length of the hallway, past the front room, beyond the staircase, until finally I found myself standing at the kitchen door. I could feel my eyes blinking, in fear, which was something that often occurred. Nonetheless, I kept them focussed and peered through the gap between the door and door frame, and...


“Oh god--- mum!” I let out a gasp, and practically charged through the entrance to the kitchen.


My mother was lay, sprawled, across the tiles on the ground, great gashes of blood evident across her arms. The culprit of this crime was just beside her, shining and malicious: a sharp knife. I didn't know what to do--- my heart was racing, the beats pounding one after the other, without gaps. One, two, one, two. My mother's face was drenched in her own tears: pasty and white. Her eyes were scrunched up tight and full of agony.


“Mum, what the **** have you done?!” I could hear my voice reaching new heights of anxiety. Confusion, anger, misery, heartbreak... it was all happening at once.


I flung my arms about her body and pulled her up, slapping the side of her face with my right hand, lightly. Her eyes flickered, the pupils small and deprived of sunlight. “Sara, I'm so, so sorry. I'm so sorry...” She bawled, her frame shaking, twitching... I could feel the tears behind my own eyes stinging, screaming to be released. But I kept them in. “I'm so pathetic, Sara... You shouldn't see me like this... I'm such a bad mother...” I could see the hurt in her expression, so clearly; it was as if I was staring into the eyes of death: so pale, blue and empty.


“R-right,” I told her, my words stammering and shaky. “I'm g-going to clean you up... Okay? Okay?” She merely nodded, frail and delicate in my instinctively tight grasp. “Have-- have you got your medication? The anti-depressants?” I enquired, trying to maintain strength. My mutterings weren't exactly aiding the situation.


It took a while for her to reply, moaning, shuddering sobs erupting from thin air, however, when she did, she croaked her words: “The sink... Chucked 'em down the sink,” she was crying so much, the streams of tears had began to drip onto my arms. When she continued her sentence, she spat: “they're useless! They're good for nothing!”


Sighing, I placed my mother back down on the ground, propping her up against one of the food cupboards, closest, and approached the sink, where the source of the full-blast water was. I noticed my own hands twitching and shaking, due to my overreacting nerves, as I gradually turned the tap off, and normality of sound was returned once more. Scattered throughout the entirety of the sinks contents were packets of anti-depressants, named “Prozac”, empty and torn. The blue packet was drenched, and completely ruined. You idiot, mum, I said to myself, silently, my breathing fluctuating, rapidly. ****ing hell... what were you trying to achieve by throwing your medication away? I wanted to speak this query aloud, but now was not the time, regardless of how upset and furious this made me.


For the next hour, I spent my time by tidying up my mother's self-inflicted wounds, and the blood she had spilt across the kitchen floor. I hid any kind of sharp object, collecting them and storing them in a locked chest in my room, and took my mother to her bed. I locked the windows, and waited with her until her eyes closed, and the automatic breathing of sleep crashed down upon her exhausted body. I was even required to put my little brother, Adam, to bed, as he had been locked in the front room, for God knew how long... after feeding him and comforting him. Stroking his hair, one last time, I lifted myself from the seat beside his bed, and ambled onto the landing, grief-stricken.


Why did my mum have to do this? It was becoming so frequent – it used to be once a year, then once every few months... now it was almost every month. But this had been the worst episode for a long time. The sight of her blood made my hairs stand on end, and my arms shiver under the goosebumps. I could feel a sharp, throbbing pain in my throat, and before I knew it, tears were jolting over my cheeks and dripping onto my clothing, my arms, the ground... and sobs were hiccoughing from behind my lips. Why? Why does this happen? I asked myself, punching the ground with a harsh, clenched fist. ****.


Beep beep!


I grunted and whipped my phone from out of my trouser pocket, and noticed it read: “2 unread messages”. Using my shivering thumb, I pressed down upon the 'select' key one more time, and saw that they were both off Amanda. I scanned over the first one:


--Hey, I'm not letting you go that easy :-) how are you doing? xo--


Usually, I would have felt a sense of regret in not being quick enough to reply to her text, however, due to the bottomless variety of thoughts soaring through my head, the feeling never came. I scrolled up to the newest message, and read that:


--Sara? Are you ok? xo--


And now the tears exploded into floods. I scrunched my eyelids shut, gritting my teeth as the warm streams haunted the skin on my face. I just wanted everything to be normal; I merely wanted peace... peace of mind. I wouldn't care if I had a normal mother, a living father to pick up the pieces, a sexuality that didn't stab fear into my heart, and a love interest that wasn't out of bounds. If I had normality... If only I had some normality, I could have lived with anything else that was chucked my way. I could put [/i]up with [/i]anything. “If ****ing only...”


I began replying, praying Amanda was not too concerned. I seldom considered my problems so significant, yet I would never insist she was a bad friend: she cared, and I knew this.


--I'm fine, my mums just had another funny turn :-/ I'll talk to you on Tuesday, yeah? x--


And with that, I hid my face between my arms, propped up on my knees, and cried.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...
  • 5 weeks later...

Wow .. that was ... That was a VERY deep chapter. Especially the ending.

I enjoyed reading it a lot.

This is becoming an extraordinary story, B!



Oh .. and I have a boss exactly like Sara's ... It's not that greatest I tell ya that much.


I want more!

More story!




Link to comment
Share on other sites

Chapter Three


Tuesday had finally rolled around – the shopping trip with Amanda was something I had been looking forward to since she had proposed the idea. I adored shopping, and most of all, it gave me a chance to escape the drama occurring at home... whether or not that was ideal in my mums critical condition, I could not bring myself to confront it. Confronting things... I mused and gave a brief mutter of a laugh, <now that sounds familiar.


I was presently waiting for Amanda to arrive at our agreed meeting spot – outside Burger King beside the shopping centre in town. She was running somewhat late due to the fact that she had been held up by an apparently huge argument with Jac that she was going to inform me on once she arrived. I could feel my foot tapping in impatience, and my heart spontaneously began to race. Calm down, Sara, this is nothing, okay? I told myself. Truth me told, I felt guilty. Despite the fact that I wished Jac and Amanda a fantastic romance and a great future, I could not bring myself away from the intrusive thoughts of kissing her. No, **** that, a voice in my head snickered quietly, I just want to grab her and say 'forget Jac'. I can't possibly care about Jac, can I?.


Rain was pounding down around me, and I could feel the draught tickling the goosebumps on my bare arms. So much for the Spring. Hurried blobs of people flitted by, their expressions blank and seemingly untouched by life. Every here and there, an outburst of squealing laughter split through the air like a knife, but against the pounding buckets of water hammering from the heavens, it was vague, muffled. Only a singular stream of sun cracked through the cloud cover, it's warm ray just out of reach. I shuddered, where the **** is she?


Minutes rolled by, and amongst the gloom I spotted a redhead speed walking down past the bus station - Amanda. My heart practically exploded within itself, sending spasms tearing through my finger tips. Furrowing my brows, I shook my head as if to shake the 'delirium' off of my body. That was all it was, I figured – it was a delirium. As my eyes followed every inch of her frame, drank in her beauty and as my heart beat raced, I concluded that it was just some kind of madness that had come over me. It had to be. I had never felt this way about a boy, and so if it was an attraction, or if it happened to be 'love', it would feel the same... But it doesn't feel the same. With Amanda, it's something else, I thought, my absent minded gaze bearing into her perfectly pale skin, as she approached me. So if it feels different, if it's not the same as it is when I like boys... then it's all in my head. It's just madness---


“Hey, Sara,” Amanda's brown orbs were staring into mine, mere inches from me, as she pulled me into an involuntary hug. I felt somewhat powerless in her arms, pressed against her, as my mind slowly drifted back into reality. I blinked, realisation hitting me, and my elbows bent themselves to return the friendly affection. We parted. “Are you okay?” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at my dazed expression.


“Oh, yeah,” I muttered, revealing a wide, toothy grin. I laughed a little at myself, shaking my head. “Sorry, I was daydreaming.”


“It's alright, it was sort of cute,” Amanda replied, breaking the eye contact to glance to the left, and resuming it again. My insides melted at this comment, and I felt my surroundings blur into nothingness, like a camera focussing on the beautiful subject of the photograph. “Anyway, yeah, I should be the one who's sorry – I'm like twenty minutes late!”


“Yeah, so you should be,” I accused, jokingly, sticking my tongue out at her. She brushed a few strands of her flawlessly hanging auburn locks from her eyes, and winked. To anyone else, this could have appeared somewhat flirty, but it just happened to be that this was what our friendship was founded on – playful, silly little remarks. I loved it, in all fairness... it allowed me to show my true colours, and more significantly, made me feel entirely comfortable around her.


Perhaps that's why I love spending time with her, another voice in my head said, all my life, my friends have been mainly boys, and the girls that I've befriended have been cruel and bitchy and distant...


“I am, I am,” Amanda said through her ever inspiring smile, “come on, let's get going, I wanna' visit H&M...”




The radiance of the sun was wilting behind the towering building blocks of the city. Simple bursts of pinks and lilacs danced about the sky, creating an almost abstract painting. I felt my insides warm up at the sight. I was a sucker for awe-inspiring landscapes, especially sunsets, despite the fact that the construction of Manchester blocked the final view. I converted my gaze to Amanda, who was just pulling up a chair to the table I had picked out in the Food Court.


As she placed herself down upon the metallic surface of the chair, she leant forward, to pull it nearer to the tables rim, and I caught an involuntary glimpse of the inside of her top. I felt somewhat captivated, the room around me spinning, yet blurred from my perceptions. I closed my eyes hastily, and hid the view with my fringe, my mind screaming: stop it! but at the same time, every fibre of my being just wanted to stroke her beautiful face, move those seemingly flawless locks of auburn from her eyes and kiss her. Kiss her. That was all I wanted – no complications...


“So, Sara,” Amanda's voice tore through my thoughts... if only you could hear what I was thinking right now... I mused. I blinked, keeping my eyes on her face, refusing to lower them again, and listened. She took a bite out of the pasty she had just purchased, and I began picking at the chips that I had likewise, bought. “The other night... what happened? To your mum I mean...”


I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck in nervousness. “She threw her pills down the sink and wrecked 'em all... I dunno' why, because she was obviously at the early onset of another depressive episode...” mine and Amanda's eyes met, and I couldn't help but get caught up in them; so inviting and engulfing. “...Ehh...” I continued, “I got home from work and the tap was on full blast, and there she was, screaming, crying, blood everywhere...” I ended my brief explanation with a distant stare, memories from Sunday night perturbing my mind.


I felt a hand wrap around mine and squeeze, gently, and I snapped my attention to the girl before me. She presented me with an encouraging smile, her eyebrows raised somewhat.


“I just...” I heard my voice crack, my throat becoming sore and my eyes watering up. “I can't deal with things at the moment,” I mumbled through abrupt pauses and breaks for air – I didn't want to cry in front of her. I felt her grip tighten, in a comforting way, and her expression dropped into that of an empathetic sadness. I could feel my heart beat, fast, irregular, and my body was swirling with extremes of sadness and desire. “I'm not ready to take on this responsibility, and everything feels... everything feels so wrong, y'know?” I breathed, the air shivering as it left my mouth. “I wish I could just tell people things...” and there it was: an fraction of honesty.


Before I could comprehend what was occurring, Amanda had left her seat and a half eaten pasty on the table where her arm had rested, moments ago, and she was approaching me from the left side of the table. She bent her knees so that she was at my level, and pulled me into a long, affectionate hug. I rested my head upon her shoulders, my nostrils filling with her scent – fruits, from her well known perfume, Diesel – and my senses dissolved. I closed my eyes, my body shutting down into a blissful rest against the warmth of her body, as my arms and hers alike wrapped about each other, and for the first time in years, I felt at peace and entirely safe.


The embrace seemed to last a lifetime, and when she parted, I was not quite ready. Her body moved away from mine, and her arms slowly glided down my body, and off, yet mine remained around her hips. I simple gazed into her eyes, lost in some kind of madness and lustful hope that she would return the feelings that were wreaking havoc within me. She did gaze back for a moment, her face void of expression, and our eyes seemed locked: hazel and green... but reality soon snapped and slapped me across the face, and I tugged my arms from around her, anxiety striking at my heart.


Please don't have figured anything out, I prayed silently, as I observed her lips curve into a hesitant smile. Oh ****, she's figured me out... don't show it, don't show it... I blinked. She did not move for a number of seconds, but once I returned her smile, she rose and returned to her seat. She seemed slightly mystified, in a world of her own, with only a half-smile caressing her lips. She looks worried... ****ing hell, this is bad...


I could always interpret Amanda's countenances, whether upset or happy, concerned or excited. I possibly paid far too much attention to her, and although this sometimes caused me to feel insane and a tad obsessed, I appreciated the ability to understand what she was feeling. Currently, however, I wished I had never learned to comprehend her emotions, as anxiety and nervousness was inflicting catastrophic harm upon my mind, and I could feel my hands shaking from the worry. If she's figured out that I like her... if she knows now, then everything could go to ****. Everything might fall apart – my friendship with Jac, my friendship with her: she might just leave me, scared or something. I breathed and glanced down, left, up... anywhere but her. Calm down, calm down... I told myself. She's a good person, and she's bisexual, she'll understand. I hope.


“I'm sorry about your mother, Sara,” she finally said, her face engulfed with sympathy yet again. “If you ever need me to help you, or if you ever just need... some company, don't hesitate to call me – I'm here for you.”


I nodded, “t-thank you, I will.” Was she pitying me? If she knew I liked her... perhaps she was merely saying this to content me. Oh god, Sara, you're a wreck, yet another voice in my head accused. I needed to change the subject, and fast. I had no method of knowing how obvious I appeared, currently, and an awkward silence would have just killed me. Think, Sara, think! And there it was. “So, how are you and Jac? You haven't mentioned anything since you were running late this morning...” It was probably an awful idea to show keenness in hers and Jac's argument, but I had no other options.


“Oh, you know,” Amanda sighed, the half a smile plummeting into a frown. “I was in a big rush this morning, I wanted to see you and I'd woken up late, but Jac couldn't see it my way, for some reason or another...” I noticed her left lip piercing being twisted by either her teeth or her tongue; this was almost a compulsory habit she had. “He was like, 'why are you always keeping your distance from me?' which is totally absurd!”


“Always keeping your distance from him?” I repeated, resuming the consumption of my deliciously greasy chips covered in ketchup.


“Apparently,” she rolled her eyes, “I explained I was gonna run late to see you if I stayed for a chat and all that, and he just wouldn't buy it. I swear, sometimes he can be so paranoid. I mean, he started bringing up that I apparently look other people up all the time that we're out, boys and girls alike – I mean, how ****ing dare he?” I nodded to show that I was listening and whispered out a short 'yeah' as a sort of gesture to go on speaking. I wanted to allow her to vent – there was nothing more I desired than to let Amanda know I cared, and help her cheer up. I adored that smile of hers, and the absence of it caused me great anguish – almost as if we were both the same person. “I'm doing my very best to keep this going and he just comes out with this ****. Eurgh... seriously. I don't know why I'm still bothering.”


“I really don't understand,” I swiftly interjected, before she could press any further onwards into her rant. “You love each other – the only problem that he's a bit paranoid and off, right? He just needs to be sat down and confronted about it, no big deal.”


I observed her features carefully, searching for meaning in them, but I found none. She had always been exceptionally gifted in that area of her life – keeping things quiet. If she wanted to say something, she would say it. Or so, I think she does, I thought, she said she trusts me with everything, so I trust her on that...


“Hmm...” now, her eyes reverted to the ground, and she shuffled her feet, nervously. My stomach gave a great pang of worry, and my intuition wasn't wrong... “I don't think I love him anymore. In fact, I don't think I like him anymore,” her eyes glanced back at me, momentarily – they were cold, hard and bursting with what I interpreted as guilt... or at least overwhelming misery. Nonetheless, no tears exposed themselves. The only thing that portrayed her mental discomfort was her face – her beautiful, graceful face. I blinked, my heart tugging into a tight ball of empathy. I didn't know what to say... and apparently, neither did she.


My mouth opened and closed several times before I purposely pushed myself into speech; I had to utter something: “so... what does this mean?” I attempted not to sound hopeful or gleeful in any way. I felt awful. I was an abhorrent friend, but I could not control my feelings, nor my desire. There is absolutely no way I'm acting on this, I promised myself, biting my lip as a wave of hopelessness washed over my being. She's out of bounds, for ****s sake... you can't do that to Jac.


“I'm s-still trying, I'm going to keep trying,” Amanda stuttered somewhat, her words looping and monotonous. “


“But you can't do that to him,” I insisted, my mind screaming for me to cease sticking my foot in it. “If you stay with him it might get worse, and you may well find you don't ever like him that way, again.”


“No,” Amanda uttered stubbornly, “no, I'm going to stick at it,” her eyes were pointed down at her feet, whilst she itched her wrist in uneasiness. I concluded that my comment had gotten to her, and the thought of stringing Jac along was causing her to feel the guilt. Nevertheless, however 'selfish' I had seemed, in essence, it had been the truth – staying with Jac despite the fact that she no longer felt anything for him was harsh. “Anyway, I shouldn't be bothering you with my tiny problems – I'm sure you're far worse off than me.”


I truly had to admire her spirit – most people would have broken off into a tangent regardless of how I was feeling. That was another thing that made her so... appealing, I guess: she understood. She never tries to get the last word, never tries to make something her problem; instead she helps, every time. She cares so much... it's just a pity that she and Jac don't see eye to eye... I thought, sighing as I did so. And then it hit me---


Why would she even care if I was bisexual? Our eyes met and she flashed her beautifully flawless smile as a sign of comfort. I observed as her hand crawled across the table towards mine, yet again, and squeezed. She's exactly the same – it's normal to her. She wouldn't tell anyone... why am I so afraid?


I could feel the surge of adrenaline rushing through my body, my heart and stomach suffering for my sudden burst of fearlessness. The room around us swayed and dissolved as if it had never even existed, and all I could feel was Amanda's delicate thumb caressing the edge of my drink-less hand. It was now or never.


“Amanda... I er...” I tripped over my own words, and I could feel the redness in my cheeks amplifying as each second passed. Come on, say it I told myself in my head. “You---”


I must not have been audible enough for the dazzling girl before me to hear, for her attention had been elsewhere before a sudden jolt of realisation hit her features and she asked: “Wait, didn't you have to be at Jac's for six?” I just stared, blinking slowly. Time had virtually stopped dead. But I ignored her.


Say it – go on, Sara I ushered myself on, the adrenaline still pumping loudly in my ears. It was now or never, and regardless of the abrupt interruption, I had to get my point across...




The background gradually began to slither back into my reality and the rush slowly evaporated into the air. As my orbs gazed lust into hers, I knew the moment had passed, and with it went my confidence. “Yes?” I forced out, my brows furrowed and my lips curved downwards at my utter cowardice. Why could I not even tell the girl I adored, who was incidentally bisexual herself, about my sexuality? Why?


“It's ten past six; you were supposed to be at Jac's for six, weren't you?” Amanda peered back, concern sliding down her face. Her hand let go of mine.


“Oh... right, yeah. Let's go...” I mumbled. I refused to look at her face – it would undoubtedly be filled with confusion and question, but I neither had the nerve nor the motivation to explain. Sighing, I pulled myself up from the table, Amanda swiftly following suit, and we ambled towards the exit of the food court.






Hope you enjoyed. :D And thanks for all the comment everyone! :thmbup1:

Link to comment
Share on other sites


Poor Sara!


As I was reading, even I felt my blood pumping in wondering if Sara was going to tell Amanda.

It must be hard for her. To be stuck between two of her best friends ... and her Mum and stuff .. I don't envy her position ... Not one bit.


Another great chapter, B.

Please, continue!!!

Link to comment
Share on other sites


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...