Thursday, 1 December 2011

Paper napkins - first draft

Okay so this is the first draft for my creative writing portfolio warned, its pretty depressing...

Paper Napkins

“Lets have a talk” he said causally kissing her on the neck.
“Talk? What kind of talk?” she said turning over to look at him.
“A talk about where we are right now, what it is that we’re doing, where this is going”
“What do I mean to you?”
“You’re my best friend, my lover, I like what we have. Why how do you feel about me?” she asked looking deep into his eyes.
 She wanted him to know that even though she pretended to be okay with the causal relationship they were having, she wanted more. She wanted to be the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before he went to sleep. She wanted to be his everything.
He looked at her for a long time, trying to assess the situation. He knew she was starting to get more involved than he wanted her to be.
“You’re a distraction. You’re there for me when I’m bored.  It’s like when I have a paper napkin and tear it into little pieces, I have no strong emotional connection to it, but it keeps me entertained for a while. You’re like a paper napkin.”
“Oh, Okay. Well that’s what you are to me too. Just a distraction. Let’s get some sleep.”
She turned over so he couldn’t see her face. Not wanting him to see how much that comment had hurt her.
He quickly slipped into a deep sleep whilst she lay there staring at the wall, wondering why she was doing this to herself, why was she putting her heart on the line?
As the clock ticked over the hours she knew she couldn’t do this anymore.
Light started to filter in through the cheap curtains. She got up quietly, not wanting to wake him. Got dressed quickly and walked slowly over to the door, taking one last look back at the bed where he lay sleeping.
            He looked so peaceful, completely unaware of just how much that one simple, flippant remark had hurt her.
The rain was coming down in sheets forming puddles in the road, the sky a melancholy mixture of blacks and greys. She felt it fitted her mood. She walked quickly, stopping off to get some cigarettes before going home.
She walked into the kitchen, putting the kettle on, hanging her coat and bag up and giving the cat a tickle under the chin in one swift movement.
Carrying her mug of coffee into the living room her phone vibrated. Taking it out of her pocket she read the message. It was from him. A simple “Hey baby, woke up and you weren’t here. See you tonight?” No she thought, he wasn’t going to see her tonight, or any other night for that matter.
In a sudden flash of anger she slammed the mug down on the coffee table, chipping the bottom slightly. She ran to her bedroom and frantically grabbed everything he had ever given her, everything that bared even a slight resemblance to him. It was time to get rid of him, start again; anything that reminded her of him had to go.
After filling several bin bags she went out into the garden, emptying the bags into one big pile. It looked a lot now. So many memories. There was the cinema ticket stub from their first date; there was the photograph of them in London, their smiling happy faces staring out at her, mocking her.
 Taking out her lighter from her pocket she picked up the photograph and set fire to a corner of it. It felt good to watch his face burn. She tossed the burning photo onto the pile and watched as the mountain of memories started to slowly turn into a mountain of ash.
Walking back inside she took out her packet of cigarettes and lit one, angrily sucking on it. A small tear timidly tried to form, but was brushed away angrily. She wasn’t going to cry over him. She was stronger than that. She wouldn’t cry like a child over him. 
Needing some are she grabbed her coat and bag and strode out of the door, heading for the park. Entering the park she went straight to her favourite spot to sit and watch the world go by.
When she could no longer feel her hands or feet she decided to get a coffee. She started to wander towards her favourite coffee shop but saw a couple of her friends in there. She didn’t want to deal with friends right now. She didn’t want to pretend she was okay.
 After all hadn’t they warned her about him? They said he was allergic to commitment. Said he was no good for her. Said she deserved better. Well they were right and she couldn’t deal with the sympathetic murmurings right now. Turning around she walked to a small greasy spoon café, one where she knew would never bump into anyone she knew.
Ordering her coffee she sat down staring into space. When the coffee was brought over she accepted it gracefully. Getting up to get some sugar she saw the pile of paper napkins. Picking one up she returned to her table. She stared at it, and started to tear it into small pieces distractedly.
Then the tears came. Great splashing angry tears fell down her face. She didn’t care that she was making a scene. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. This is what she was, a cheap disposable paper napkin. That’s all he thought of her, she was something to mindlessly tear apart. Four months of happy memories torn apart by one stupid sentence.

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