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Romanticism of the New Age

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A story I wrote for a competition at my school:

The three and the eyes.

The three

As soon as John Smith had paid the cab driver, the vehicle slowly glided away into the badly lit street in which he lived.
John looked up at the grey building in front of him, which was built and sold in the 60s as a "architectural achievement", today didn't show any light or give any hint that could tell any human being passing by if someone was living there. Quite normal, as it was near 4 in the morning. John had been drinking with some office partners, but forgot to keep up with time and count the bottles. This actually resulted in the fact that Thomas, the manager, was lying drunk in some dark corner. John wasn't worried at all, his manager always arrived on time to work, no matter what had happened to him the night before (or the one before that one).
Thinking about all this, John had gone up the stairs to the 6th floor, entered his flat and turned on the lights. He took of the jacket and headed for the fridge to get a beer. It wasn't the first nor the last this night, but John had been drinking so much lately that he didn’t remember the last time he was sober. His flat was a mess, always: boxes and empty beer cans all over the place - he had moved in a pair of months ago, but never found the time or the patience needed to unpack and tidy after himself, so the rubbish continued accumulating.
John sat on a box in front of the TV (which transmitted it's usual late night stupid programmes) and finished the beer.
- My life is a really big shit - he thought out loud.
Since Catherine had left him, he was spiralling lower and lower like a hit plane in WW2. 2 weeks before their wedding, she had run off with that bastard, a lawyer who was 7 years older than her. All the planning, all the happiness he had waited for since they first met that day. Her beautiful blue eyes had scanned him with interest when he was presented by a common friend. She wasn't a top model nor anything near it, but she indeed had pretty eyes. And that was the key of damnation of our dear protagonist, because the thing he loved most about women were their eyes. And so, they fell in love (he thought initially). After a few months of dating, they decided to get married and start a new life together, but the fatality came - in the form of the damned lawyer. Nevertheless m, somehow he still loved her, missed her hair, her smile and, above all, her big deep blue eyes.
Such a nostalgious feeling invaded him that he stood up and fetched another beer. He drank it slowly, enjoying it's cool taste and wondering how many he had drunk today... "I must forget her, she something in my past" - he thought. But Catherine returned into his mind. Her deep, shiny blue eyes... They were slowly consuming his thoughts, the alcohol was tricking his senses and the sorrow was torturing his spirit.
This deadly mixture made him loose control of himself, he started kicking the boxes around the room, yelling words of hate and love alike... And then he saw the window: his door to freedom. He ran at it with his brain pleading to stop and his soul pushing him forward. And then they came: the crash, the fall, the silence.

The Eyes

The smell of vegetable soup woke our character. Actually, it was hunger which woke him up, but all because of the smell. "If I'm dead, this is hell for sure if they welcome me with soup... I hate vegetables..." - was the first clear thought that came into the mind of our protagonist.
John opened one eye and closed it once again due to the bright light which was illuminating whatever place he was in. He took a deep breath and opened slowly the other eye and managed to keep it open until it could bear the brightness. He was lying in a bed in what looked like a hospital room, and a nurse was holding a tray on which the damned soup.
- Finally you woke up, you’ve been K.O. for 2 days… No wonder, that was a quite big fall. Tripped over something? – She asked.
- Ehh… yeah something like that… - answered John. How could he tell her that he had jumped? Surely he would be chained to the bed, and some pseudo psychologist would be sent to help. Nah, better shut up.
- Well here’s your soup. Eat up and you will be out of here soon enough.
- Actually… I hate vegetables.
She laughed at that point.
- Me too, but sometimes you’ve got to suffer to get better.
These words made John think… How could he jump out of a window for a woman that had betrayed him? How is it humanly possible to love those who you hate most? But still, how could he get over it if he had already jumped?“ You have to suffer to get better” He had suffered already, but where was the improvement? Where?
- Are you going to eat it or not?
John had forgotten completely about the nurse! But then, and only then, he noticed her beautiful green eyes.
 
Level 13
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Jan 18, 2008
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956
About the swear words... Because of them I didn't win the competition I wrote this for. They censored me!
And I think I'll have to change my avatar, I'm getting discriminated for it :(...
 
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