Creative Writing story

20 Jan


“The answer should be obvious.”

“Well it isn’t. Again, why are you here?”

The truth was I didn’t know why I was there. I came on an impulse; something I had the unfortunate habit of following. It was, after all, just six months before that I had left her on her front porch crying, after letting her know, ever so nicely, that I never wanted to see her again. Yet here I was, on Annabelle’s front porch, again.

“I don’t know, Annie,” I said, sounding as small as I felt.

“Don’t call me by that, I hate when you do that. What happened to not wanting to see me again? Or did you forget?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“I didn’t forget. I just wanted to see you. I don’t know why. I guess I just felt bad about how I ended things with you,” the situation wasn’t getting any better.

“You should feel bad. You have no right being here Erik. No right at all. So why don’t you leave. I don’t want to see you ever again, and unlike you I mean it,” her anger was overflowing now.

I don’t really know what had lead me to ending it with her that night. Or even why I did it like I did. I guess I was just angry and bitter. She was the only child of an upper class family. I was the middle child of five, from a lower middle class family. I guess the class difference just got to me overtime. Other than that I can’t think of one thing that was possibly wrong with our relationship.

“I came to say that I am sorry, Annabelle. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I was wrong. I never should have said those things to you. I was wrong for letting my insecurities get the best of me,” it was the only thing I knew to say.

“What? Did you think that by coming here to apologize it would make anything better? Please tell me that you didn’t think that, for the slightest second, I would consider forgiving you. You don’t get that privilege. Not from me. Not now. Not ever,” she was yelling now,” Erik. Leave.”

“Anna…” I started.

“Leave,” She yelled, tears now rolling down her cheeks.

What else could I do? I looked at her one last time, then turned around and headed for my car. I don’t really know what I thought I would accomplish by coming here, it was after all just on an impulse that I did. What was clear was she would never forgive me, and who could blame her? I had messed up.

“And Erik,” She said from the porch.


“I meant what I said, I never want to see you again,” she said, before turning around and walking inside.


10 Responses to “Creative Writing story”

  1. Smiles July 9, 2011 at 1:56 am #

    you dont write anymore. its kind of weird.

    • Jesse July 9, 2011 at 12:10 pm #

      Do I know you? Yeah, its been a while since I blogged on here. I still get on though. I was thinking about making an update tonight.

      • dreamreader August 12, 2011 at 1:12 am #

        but you didn’t…

      • Jesse August 15, 2011 at 1:22 am #

        What is weird is that your IP Address changed from a Boiling Springs location to an Easley location. hmmm very suspect. So who is this?

  2. cutiewithglasses August 28, 2011 at 2:51 am #

    Is this part of a play? because it can’t be a short story. its all commentary!

    • Jesse August 28, 2011 at 1:46 pm #

      Its a Short Short Story, its a style of writing where its under 300 words. And its not all commentary. Its a first person narrative, and there is dialogue.

      Thanks for reading though, and hi 🙂

      • cutiewithglasses August 30, 2011 at 11:57 pm #

        ah. well you should think about writing plays instead. i think it suits you better

      • Jesse August 31, 2011 at 12:45 am #

        Eh, I have thought about writing a script. Just to see how I do at it, but I don’t know if I will actually do it. I like short stories. Writing plays, and scripts takes, I fear, more visual creativity than I posses.

  3. cutiewithglasses August 31, 2011 at 12:51 am #

    oh ye of little faith. you never know til you try

    • Jesse August 31, 2011 at 9:25 am #

      Well maybe I will try then.

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