I Don't Dance
folder
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
894
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
894
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
I Don't Dance
Author: Hiriyou
Description: Ahhh! The next addition in this really stupid series the \"Broken Children Arc.\" This one deals with: massacre (?), suicide, explosions, and just the repetitiveness of these stories. Enjoy....
I Don't Dance
The mingling and the dancing and happiness. It made me want to hurl myself off of this damn boat and let myself drown. Everybody, even people I didn't know, were just sitting around a room on the upper deck and laughing their heads off like we were stoned until the next millennium. But I wasn't happy and I didn't like the fact that everyone else was happy besides me.
Two lovebirds were making out on the couch. Oh how I wished I could have just torn them apart and then proceed to create long furrows in both of their faces with a jagged piece from the mirror on the wall across from me that I wanted to shatter so dearly. Another couple was doing something in the supply closet. There were occasional thudding sounds emitting as well as some giggling. A cannonball should be fired straight through the plywood door. That would serve them right.
And then there was the fact that I was expected to dance. Dance? Me? No. Just no. Never. I'm a grace-lacking, talent-challenged person but no one seems to believe me. They still pull me into a circle of sparkling barely-there "dresses" and tuxes that were losing pieces to their suits left and right. Just the gyrating and thrusting motions of what they liked to imagine was dancing was another thing ready to have me over the side of the rented yacht in just a few minutes. It was more like a dancing orgy that nobody would let me escape from.
I'm starting to get a headache thanks to the pulsing vibrations from the DJ's soundboard. All I want is to go home, but I'm obligated. By a date that seems to be off doing something-or someone-else. It would be funny to just go back to the cheap limo and tell them to just drive off. I can just imagine what kind of shouts might be heard come Monday morning. It makes me smirk. Someone is telling me they're happy I finally smiled. I don't even know who the fuck it is and they're acting like a deeply concerned friend. Who cares? If I ignore them again it's possible they may just leave me alone.
Soon though, and I won't have to continue this wait. All of the glitter and fallaciously dream-like aura will be inverted into a story ready to spill ink all across tomorrow's front pages. All I have to do is wait a little longer. I can do that.
In comfort I can know that I am not the only sufferer here. There are two others. Stgicagically located in different sectors of this drifting boat. They're just as sick of this whole place as me. Somehow, by some way, we found each other in our mutual antipathy. It was destiny, we decided. How could it not that three so very different people came together to build such a plan as ours?
And oh what a beautiful thing it was. My baby. My ingenious project to work on for all the repugnant years of me wasted upon the ungrateful. This baby of mine would be a mes to to everyone who might understand. With that message I hope that perhaps others would follow such an example as ours.
I look up at the clock's cheery face. Five minutes it says. Five minutes I want to call out, and you shall all know what it is to be us. Now it is four. Just as perfectly timed, my cell phone rings, and I answer. It is the second of our group. Confirmation. Three, and my pager is now vibrating while displaying it's proper numbers. Only two minutes remain. So I sit back to savor this moment. The same unknown care giver is sporting an easy smile. This time though, I smile back. No reason not to. The final minute has come. Now it is gone. My beautiful message of fire lights up the night sky in it's full disarray. Everyone's screams are merely the accompany music.
Description: Ahhh! The next addition in this really stupid series the \"Broken Children Arc.\" This one deals with: massacre (?), suicide, explosions, and just the repetitiveness of these stories. Enjoy....
I Don't Dance
The mingling and the dancing and happiness. It made me want to hurl myself off of this damn boat and let myself drown. Everybody, even people I didn't know, were just sitting around a room on the upper deck and laughing their heads off like we were stoned until the next millennium. But I wasn't happy and I didn't like the fact that everyone else was happy besides me.
Two lovebirds were making out on the couch. Oh how I wished I could have just torn them apart and then proceed to create long furrows in both of their faces with a jagged piece from the mirror on the wall across from me that I wanted to shatter so dearly. Another couple was doing something in the supply closet. There were occasional thudding sounds emitting as well as some giggling. A cannonball should be fired straight through the plywood door. That would serve them right.
And then there was the fact that I was expected to dance. Dance? Me? No. Just no. Never. I'm a grace-lacking, talent-challenged person but no one seems to believe me. They still pull me into a circle of sparkling barely-there "dresses" and tuxes that were losing pieces to their suits left and right. Just the gyrating and thrusting motions of what they liked to imagine was dancing was another thing ready to have me over the side of the rented yacht in just a few minutes. It was more like a dancing orgy that nobody would let me escape from.
I'm starting to get a headache thanks to the pulsing vibrations from the DJ's soundboard. All I want is to go home, but I'm obligated. By a date that seems to be off doing something-or someone-else. It would be funny to just go back to the cheap limo and tell them to just drive off. I can just imagine what kind of shouts might be heard come Monday morning. It makes me smirk. Someone is telling me they're happy I finally smiled. I don't even know who the fuck it is and they're acting like a deeply concerned friend. Who cares? If I ignore them again it's possible they may just leave me alone.
Soon though, and I won't have to continue this wait. All of the glitter and fallaciously dream-like aura will be inverted into a story ready to spill ink all across tomorrow's front pages. All I have to do is wait a little longer. I can do that.
In comfort I can know that I am not the only sufferer here. There are two others. Stgicagically located in different sectors of this drifting boat. They're just as sick of this whole place as me. Somehow, by some way, we found each other in our mutual antipathy. It was destiny, we decided. How could it not that three so very different people came together to build such a plan as ours?
And oh what a beautiful thing it was. My baby. My ingenious project to work on for all the repugnant years of me wasted upon the ungrateful. This baby of mine would be a mes to to everyone who might understand. With that message I hope that perhaps others would follow such an example as ours.
I look up at the clock's cheery face. Five minutes it says. Five minutes I want to call out, and you shall all know what it is to be us. Now it is four. Just as perfectly timed, my cell phone rings, and I answer. It is the second of our group. Confirmation. Three, and my pager is now vibrating while displaying it's proper numbers. Only two minutes remain. So I sit back to savor this moment. The same unknown care giver is sporting an easy smile. This time though, I smile back. No reason not to. The final minute has come. Now it is gone. My beautiful message of fire lights up the night sky in it's full disarray. Everyone's screams are merely the accompany music.