Wallflower

This is a story I wrote a little while ago. I really love it and thought I'd put it up. Hope you enjoy.

Wallflower

 

Introverts; Extroverts, Jocks, Smarties, Voyeurs; Sluts; Whiz Kids; Cheerleaders; Wannabes; Non-Conformists; Conformists; Goths; Thespians; Nerds; and some just drifting along on their own planet.
All the usual suspects.
Here we all gather, compressed into the same small space, in the same uncomfortable chairs. We all look different. Consider ourselves unique. Yet our attempts at individuality are betrayed by our similarities. Everyone catching up on the same gossip, comparing achievements, padding failures with an air of hope, noticing and hoping to be noticed. We all size each other up, eavesdrop on conversations, want mommy and daddy's approval, shun authority.

Intensity.
Nonchalance.
Boredom.

Love, hate, envy, desperation.... blah, blah, blah...she felt it all.
She closed her eyes and breathed deep. It was rolling over her in waves, leaving her feeling exhausted and nauseous.  This was why she tried to avoid such crowded places. But there was no avoiding it today. She heard a voice droning on somewhere in the distance. Her attempts to tune it out had caused it to sound like a Peanuts cartoon. She smiled to herself, certain the others would think she looked crazy again. But she didn't care. After going through the gamut of emotional over-spill she felt like a zombie. Probably why no one ever spoke to her. She was the Wallflower, if you had to put a "label" on her. Always watching, never participating. It was just easier that way. She concentrated very hard to raise the walls and shut out everything. 
Slowly the nausea died off and the disembodied voice floated away.
A soft breeze struck her face, popping open her steel blue eyes.

She was back. She was safe.

Her wheat colored hair blew around her small shoulders. Every once in awhile it became ambitious and swirled around her face, tickling her nose and causing her freckles to scatter across her cheeks as she smiled. The deep blue pools of her eyes scanned the vast emptiness of her field. The tall grasses danced around her, beckoning. She closed her eyes once again and spread her arms out to their full expanse. She leaned her head back and focused on the sensation of the grass making drowsy circles over the smooth surface of her palms.

Peace.

She simply breathed and swayed in a silent partnership between herself and the living ocean that was her field. She hummed softly to herself. The wind blew again, suddenly harder, bringing with it another sound. One that was all too familiar. The smile melted slowly from her face and she stood stock-still. Perhaps the sound would blow right past her without a lingering visit. Deep down she knew her hope was in vain. The noise grew louder, more shrill, until she thought her ears would weep with blood. She clamped her hands to her head, begging no one in particular to spare her this time.

Then she was falling.
Spiraling.
The field melted away.

She was on the floor again, the weight of him bearing down on her diminutive frame. Her arms in a vice grip, the heat from his contemptible thoughts surging through her.  His left eye twitched as his gaze switched from her terrified face to the scene only inches from her. The pain was unbearable, but it did not belong to her. She shifted her focus back to her right and confronted her mother's wide, terrified eyes. Steel blue just like hers. Perfectly round, deep set pools. Normally so warm and tender, now filled with fear and pain. Her beautiful wheat colored hair circling her head like a halo. She stared at it. Her mother had let her brush that long hair many times while they sat together. Now seeing it matted and streaked with a hideous red only increased her anger. She looked at the human boulder on top of her, preparing to spit in his disgusting red face.  But a pained sound drew her focus back, as her mother screamed. Her head snapped over to the right and she could sense movement lower down on her mother's body. She began to shift her focus, but her mother begged her to look into her eyes.

"Don't look at him", she implored, "he's not really there my love, it will all be over soon." She tried to smile, but the bruises made the effect less comforting. She wanted to ease her mother’s pain somehow. She felt so worthless and weak. Her mother had wiped her tears when people made her feel different, celebrated her most minute achievements and picked her back up when the world seemed to kick her. Now her mother was the one who needed someone and all she could do was lay here.

Cowardly.

Frail.

PATHETIC.

She began to hum. A familiar little tune that always seemed to stop the world, if only for an instant. The sensations from the two men began to drift away.  Her mother’s golden voice joined her own.

“Wait for me please my love, my life. By our tree where I hung a kiss for you”

“I’ll meet you there soon my life, my love. Wearing a beautiful ribbon of silver and blue.”

“If you choose to renounce me my love, my life. Please leave me your small shining dagger.”

“For I can’t be without you my life, my love. And I’ll meet you in heaven…”

Her mother's agony came rushing back and ripped through her once again, infusing itself with the excitement and pure carnal gluttony from the two men.  She screamed as all the emotions buried themselves in the pit of her stomach. This time she was certain she was going to vomit. She was tempted to do it all over him. But she couldn't look away from her mother's eyes; somehow knowing it was imperative that she memorized her face.

Spinning.
Grunting.
Crying.
Falling...
She closed her eyes and hit bottom.

All was silent and dark. She gradually opened her heavy eyelids to a sea of faces.
Some concerned, some confused, some frightened...but most just judging. She felt the cold linoleum under her, hard and unforgiving. The spot on the back of her head was aching.
Crap.
She'd fainted.
Again.
Wonder how much she'd said this time.