#yeah write!

She was walking down the street, eyes cast down, hood on. It was pouring rain and she was out for a walk. She needed to take a walk to get these words out of her head. She couldn’t stop thinking about them.

“I love you,” he had said.

It was said with strong conviction and she was sure he was sure. But she wanted to be unsure. She didn’t deserve his love, not like this. He was so good to her. She pretended she hadn’t heard and kissed him goodnight. She panicked afterwards. It was the first time anyone had told her they loved her. It was the first time in what felt like forever. Did he mean it? He couldn’t have, she was sure. Of course he was kidding. He was probably trying to get into bed with her. There was no other possible explanation for his firm statement.

She stopped at a coffee shop for some bitter espresso. She sat by the window and watched the rain pour down. She wasn’t thinking about anything. She wasn’t wondering what she should do about the situation she was in. All she wanted was to feel good for a second or two.

Her phone buzzed and it was him. It broke her peace. She picked up with a weary smile.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.” she mumbled.

“Can I see you?”

“I’m at Joe’s right now.” She whispered in defeat. She had to get the conversation over with.

“I’ll be there in 5.”

He came in under 5 minutes, dressed in sweatpants. He was punctual, she gave him that. He bought a coffee before sitting in front of her, expression-less.

“Don’t say anything.” she started.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“About last night,” she started. “I heard you.”

“I meant it.”

She looked at him and nodded. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“You don’t know how you feel about me?”

“About being in love.” she whispered.

“You don’t love me?” he asked. He wasn’t angry. Hurt, maybe.

“How can I be certain that you love me?” she asked, avoiding his eyes.

He put his hand over hers. “I love you. You just have to take my word for it.”

She looked at their hands then back at his face. She scoffed. “Three words, big whup. They don’t mean anything.”

He let out a sigh. “I was sure the minute I felt fear for you. That night after that party. When I couldn’t find you,” he paused and shook his head. “I almost cried. I couldn’t bear losing you. I thought the worst possible situations, you know. But then I saw you laughing with Kat and I was relieved but also, I knew then. I love you.”

Your hand’s in hers as you both walk down the path. The leaves are all bright reds, oranges and yellow.

Isn’t this beautiful? You smile and kiss her on the cheek.

You’re beautiful. You often say cute things like this, making her blush a deep red.

You walk down the path with her until you spot the cafe you’ve been looking for. You buy warm, sweet hot chocolates. You decide to take a seat inside the cafe by the window and she thinks it’s perfect. The cafe is cute and has a warm atmosphere and friendly staff. She can’t stop smiling. You’re smiling back at her, your eyes a warm coffee brown. She’s in love with you but you’re just neutral. You don’t know how you feel about her. You drink your hot chocolate and look past her, out the window at the colourful trees. Do you love her? Or do you just like the fact that you have a girlfriend? It doesn’t help that she’s beautiful. She turns heads and you like the attention. You know you and her are the perfect pair so you don’t mind that she’s boring and sometimes annoying. You can’t be bothered to find another perfect-looking woman.

You notice two men walking past the shop. You see them again, glancing back at the shop. You feel nauseous for a second, suspicious of them. They don’t seem right. It’s like they’re looking back at you, conspiring to kill you. Conspiring something dark. She says something about buying a cookie and then you’re left to your own devices. You sip more of your hot chocolate and hear people making a ruckus behind you. Some gasps. A scream. You turn around to see the two men inside, brandishing guns. They’re dressed in suits, wearing shades. You can’t help but admire them. Their suits look classic and fit perfectly. The guns on the other hand are shiny. Your eyes dart from them with their guns to your girlfriend. She’s looking at you wide-eyed and helpless. You rise from your seat but are frozen when one of the two men regard you with their gun. You curse yourself in your mind for not being smart and let yourself be taken hostage. The man holds you at gunpoint and handles you aggressively, punching you several times when you try to resist.

Wounded and betrayed, she whimpered in the corner. Where was everyone else? What happened to Nico and Jeremiah? She curled into a ball, trying to get her body heat to warm her up. The night was making its way in and Tara was scared that Ogre would come back. She was starting to get hungry but she didn’t want to wander off in the dark. She hated that Ogre had made her feel this way. Before tonight, she would’ve strutted in the darkness, all over the jungle, to find food. She eventually fell into a fitful sleep, scratching at herself.

Nico and Jeremiah were by her side in the morning.

Where the hell were you guys? she breathed out, inspecting her wounds. They hurt like hell.

Relax, Tara. We were just out. Party at Ogre’s. Jeremiah roared.

She harrumphed and pounced at Jeremiah. Why did you go to his party? Ogre was the one who had hurt her.

You’re not the boss of us, Tara. Nico now.

She gave him a look and a roar. They knew how terrible Ogre was to her. She roared louder. Look at me. Look at what he did to me. Why were they still friends with him? Why did they still place him on such a high pedestal? He was practically their god. She was disgusted by her friends. She retreated back to her spot, curling up into a ball.

Jeremiah and Nico left her there. On their way to find food they discussed Ogre. They didn’t know what he’d done. Did he really hurt Tara last night? They brought her back food, an entire deer they had found by the ravine. Tara was grateful but she still hadn’t forgiven them for last night. It took her a while before she started talking to them. Jeremiah and Nico gave her space, napping by the gooseberry bushes.

Tara eventually came to them, pawing at them softly to wake them up. Wake up.

We’re really sorry about last night. Nico tried his hand at being gentle.

He really hurt me. She didn’t want to go too into detail. Last night was a blur.

We can get back at him. Jeremiah was trying to be strong.

Tara shook her head. She didn’t want to get them involved. It was up to her to get revenge. And she was going to go tonight. She was going to talk to Ogre and settle this.

She waited until Jeremiah and Nico had left. She took her time, washed herself and made sure she looked just right. Ogre needed to know that he was losing something good. She practiced her strut and went off.

He was deep in his den when she got there. Hello.

Ogre smirked. Back again, are you?

He made her blood boil.

She growled and avoided his eyes. I need you to stay away.

I’m not the one who came looking for me. He was playing with her.

That was all it took for her to pounce on him, clawing at his eyes. You bastard.

His eyes were strained from spending countless hours staring at his laptop screen. His word count wouldn’t budge. He was definitely in a writer’s block because all he had done in the past half hour was stare at his words over and over again. He took off his tortoise shell framed circle glasses. Without them on, the words were all just a silly blur. He felt better. He sipped his coffee and let the coffee shop chatter sink in.

Today, he had picked a coffee shop right in the centre of the downtown core of his city. He liked the hustle and bustle of the workday. It inspired him most days, hearing people’s trials and tribulations. Today, however, he was getting a massive headache. It was not turning out to be a good writer’s day. He decided to pack up his things and take a walk through the city. Walking usually helped clear his mind.

He started down the street, passed by other favourite coffee shops of his. There was also a range of food places. He loved that he could get Chinese, Indian, or Greek all on one street. Turning the corner, he was tempted to enter the used bookstore. He was already reading one too many books at once.

He started to look at all the different people he was passing by. This city had people of all colours, shapes, sizes, genders, and sexual orientations. It really was an experience, this city. He walked by a boy with New York fashion week worthy style. He walked by as though he were on a runaway and he envied the boy. He could never pull off what he was wearing.

He was passing by another one of his favourite coffee shops when he saw a girl inside. She was sitting on one of those high chairs by the window. He stepped inside spontaneously. He ordered a coffee even though he was already highly caffeinated. The girl had long dark hair that was let out. She was on a laptop, reading what looked like an article. He figured she was doing school work as she wrote something down in a notebook.

He sat two seats away from her, staring at the buildings in front of him. Did he have the courage to strike up a conversation? He took out his own laptop and found himself adding words to what he had been writing earlier. He was on a roll, words coming now like a fountain. The stroll through the city must have inspired him.

Moments later, he noticed the girl looking at him. He sipped his coffee and gave her a smile. She smiled back and turned back to her laptop, shyly. He continued writing, the characters panicking and then angry with one another. The scene was unfolding with fury and he again felt her looking at him.

He looked back at her. “Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked calmly. He sounded way too formal and immediately regretted those words. He should’ve asked instead if everything was okay.

She smiled at him in a friendly way and shook her head. “I was just wondering what you were furiously typing away.” Then added, “If you don’t mind me asking.” She girlishly giggled.

“Just a story,” he said vaguely. He rarely ever talked about his writing with anyone, let alone a stranger.

“What about?” she prompted, relentless.

He looked out the window then back at her. She was pretty, brown eyes hidden behind wide glasses. Her skin glowed as the sun was setting in front of them, a bronze tan colour. He started telling her about his recent work, the plot line he had in mind.

She smiled at his enthusiasm and told him about her own writing. They bonded over their writer’s struggle as the sun set, hiding away behind the tall buildings. The city never let anyone see the sun set completely. Not when there were buildings everywhere. The sun caught in her eyes for a minute as they talked and he looked at how her eyes sparkled. He was delighted by this, wanted to capture the moment somehow. Her brown skin glowed under the sunlight and he couldn’t stop staring at the colours. He lost track of what he was saying when she smiled and she had to remind him of where he left off. She thought he was tired at the very least and didn’t mind waiting for him to catch up with what she was saying. She liked the way he was looking at her, as though she were a piece of art.

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Inspired by this prompt from Yeah Write!

The streetlights shone down as they always did at three in the morning on this same old suburban road: a dull orange-yellow that gave the concrete sidewalks and the overhanging branches of the palmettos a subtle glow, as if they were emanating heat. The street was lonely; two lanes running straight for miles, from here to the train station. At times like these, it was always better to drive in silence, listen to the gravel on the concrete speak its subtle, entrancing language. The shocks and tires enjoyed interrupting the street from time to time. And then I was somewhere else entirely.

Stale weed and sex permeate the room, The flicker of the lighter—our eyes The click of the flame—our ears. Two girls waiting, for life to catch up.

By Alli Ochoa