Italics = dialogue.




The Harsher Side of Reality

The night in question was cold and crisp. The moon shone above the star-filled sky like a new light bulb, shrouded only by the dark, sinister clouds of winter in Sydney. Donny stepped out of the broken-down house on Pitch Avenue, breathing in and embracing the fresh, sharp air.
It’s been a long time, Thought he, as the gentle breeze took him into a frenzy of thoughts, this is my time now, and I will enjoy it. It is nobody’s to relish but mine, and I intend to keep myself.

Walking down Pitch Avenue, lighted only by the moon and people’s living rooms, each of Donny’s steps made a distinct “thump”. Scarce was it that this street was so peaceful, and yet at the same time, the peace seemed heavy on the chest and daunting. Each of Donny’s thoughts contributed to his heart rate, and soon his heart was beating as double the speed at which he walked. Donny’s pulse wasn’t the only thing that jumped that night.

Donny. Donny….

Who’s calling me? What do you seek?

Are you lonely, Donny? Do you want a friend?

Well, yes, but... Who’s asking? Are you an apparition or an illusion?

I am neither, dear. Then again, I could be both – I am what you envision; what you seek and desire.

Donny didn’t like the voice in his head, nor did he want to have anything to do with it. He tried to ignore it and kept walking. The wind’s sharpness and ferocity increased; at that point Donny was only walking to keep his mind rid of his sudden encounter.

Donny, are you ignoring me? Don’t you want me?

Who are you? What are you? I’m scared…

A strange thing happened at that moment. The air became eerily still and Pitch Ave. had grown noticeably darker. A dim yet strong silver figure seemed to form itself in front of his very eyes. Donny stood petrified by amazement as this figure developed; he saw that it was indeed an apparition of sorts – it had seen him, liked what it had seen and was now in the midst of revealing itself to him.

Before long, the beautiful figure of a female stood a few feet away from Donny’s still shocked self. She was no ordinary figure; slim and elegant with the softest hair on which any man had ever laid his eyes. She walked toward him, glowing with love and neutral happiness. Very slowly, Donny made a move to approach her at an equal pace. The two soon stood close to each other, and the woman was the first to speak;

Are you lonely? What do you see?

I… uh… I see you, a woman. You’re a beautiful young woman. But what exactly are you? Why are you here?

Donny, I am what you want. I am what your heart desperately desires; nothing more and nothing less. So, Donny, what is it you want? What lies in your heart at this very moment that compelled me to reveal myself to you?

I want… to be loved. Are you love?

Yes, Donny. I am love. I have come to you to bring you the very feeling every individual on this Earth deserves. I don’t see happiness in you, Donny. I see the face of a crying child within you, the very image of a weary child hungry for love. You are seventeen years old, and this we both know. But inside, you want what you never had.

You… I…

The mysterious but kind young girl ceased to glow. She slowly walked closer to Donny and took his hand in hers. Her look was of the most sincere love he had ever seen, and he tried his hardest not to cry. The two walked down the remaining stretch of Pitch Avenue and crossed the street to the park, sitting at a bench. Donny wasn’t frightened by her anymore, and slowly increased his grip on her hand. He didn’t know who she was or why she had come to him, but he didn’t want her to leave. He felt safe with her.

Donny, she spoke softly, that old house at the other end of Pitch – is it your home?

Well, miss… yes and no. I’ve lived in that house for fourteen years of my life, without ever really having the sense of a home. I reside there, yes, but it is not where I truly live.

Why is that, dear? Where do you live, if not there?

Simply, Donny replied with a heavy chest, on Sydney’s very streets. I feel most at home when I find myself in the city amongst all the busy people – the doctors, lawyers, barristers, and simple folk with no business interest simply trying to go about a casual day. I love the hustle and bustle of the city.

Donny felt tears form in his eyes. Under the calm, starry night, he confided in his newfound friend of his many troubles. She listened, and heard of his life as an orphan, separated from his parents at the mere age of three and never seeing them or hearing from them ever again. He told of his life growing up in that broken down old house with the chipped roof and peeling walls. His angel listened intently, settling his every nervous twitch.

Miss angel, I was wondering. What do they call you?

You may call me by whichever name you wish, dear sweet Donny.

Will you be Nora? I really like that name, I’ve always liked it.

As you wish, Donny. I am Nora, and I am love.

Are you belonging?

Yes. I come to you as the one to fill the void you’ve had in your heart for so long. I am your missing love, and your sense of belonging. But there’s a catch, Donny.

What is it?

Belonging is intangible. I appeared to you tonight as a kind young girl because in your mind all you wanted was someone to hold you and tell you it will be okay. You did that all by yourself, dear, and you will keep doing that. I’ve been inside you this whole time, and you’ve only just realised it because you let yourself understand what you needed. That’s the harshness of it all, Donny. You have to learn to do things yourself. I’m always in your heart when you need me. I love you.

Nora looked at Donny with a loving glint in her eye; she once again squeezed his hand, and all in a few moments she had disappeared. Donny knew she wasn’t really gone though. She was in his heart, forever and completely his. He stood up and walked forward, returning to the house. As he walked up Pitch Avenue, he noticed that the clouds shrouding the moon had disappeared, and that the sky was perhaps more star-filled than before. He reached the house and entered, walking straight past the dog; “that stupid little bald lump", as he often called it.

Breathing deeply, Donny quietly entered his room and crept into bed. He lay facing the window, which had a view of the moon. He sighed, and closed his eyes.

I love you too, Nora.

Ummmm.... Nice story.

lol bart.

IDK, i'm seem confused on alot of things. After watching inception.

Inception has nothing to do with this; you need to understand the concept of belonging before you read this, if you want to enjoy it.

Never mind, it was a nice story anyways. You should be a writer.

The concept of belonging where?

Tldr. =]

SOUP wrote:

Tldr. =]

I hope you realize how disrespectful that is. If it's too long, dont' post anything. Just skip over the thread.

Anyway, I read it. It's kinda similar to a book I'm reading in ways that I can't really describe.

nice.

Bam wrote:

The concept of belonging where?

The whole story revolves around the concept of belonging; the absence of, and the feeling of desire to belong.

SOUP wrote:

Tldr. =]

I was gonna offer you shares in my future writing profits, but...

^haha aloe.

I'm sorry, though. I didn't read all of it either, but I can tell you that I dislike your writing style, by that, I mean this:

bla bla bla.

bla bla bla, and he said:

bla bla bla

you know.
instead of something like this:

bla bla bla.
bla bla bla, and he said: bla bla bla

for me, it makes it easier to read.
I have read small pieces of your story though, and it's written very nicely.

I read the whole thing because i love acting and i thought it was alright :)
It wasn't anything special, it had no strong plot establishment or anything that made the reader say, "ohhhhh", but otherwise it was a nice and simple little story about belonging somewhere with someone isn't always literal. If that was right, you got your point across clearly. I liked that you used a lot of different words to identify the same meaning like:
"Fresh, crisp, gentle, sharp and embracing", all went into the description of just the wind. If anything, maybe it was a little too much. But better to much than too little. As for the actual story, i thought it was a little bit plain and needed something that you might have thought about putting in there but didn't. It needed that little spice it was lacking. Also, Nora said deary and lovey too much. As well as that, the establishment of the character's relationships were too quick, even for a short story. I mean, he hears some voices in his head and sees a pretty girl in front of him. I would be creeped out, and instead he just names her. If you wanted to get across the point that he knew she was true love, you should have slipped in somewhere what he was feeling about the whole situation.

On a finishing note, great story!

ThE above^

@Whatif: Do you understand what Nora was? Do you even understand anything about the story? There were no relationships being established.

Very thoughtful, conceptive.
@whatif: I'm pretty sure Nora, the angel, is supposed to symbolize love as Aloe even wrote in what she symbolizes in his heart.

Nice theme, Aloe. The story shows that there is always a desire you have, but life isn't fair enough to give it to you straight forward, you have to work to get it.

Thanks Mega. You're probably the first person to understand the meaning behind this story.

Ahaha.
If you look through my posts you'll probably see a story I've written a long time ago, before I think even you registered.

Aloe wrote:

@Whatif: Do you understand what Nora was? Do you even understand anything about the story? There were no relationships being established.

There was no relationship between the two main characters? How can they interact without a relationship? Yes, i know she the image of perfect love.

Syntax Error wrote:

Very thoughtful, conceptive.
@whatif: I'm pretty sure Nora, the angel, is supposed to symbolize love as Aloe even wrote in what she symbolizes in his heart.

Nice theme, Aloe. The story shows that there is always a desire you have, but life isn't fair enough to give it to you straight forward, you have to work to get it.

Where in that whole story does it imply that he has to work hard to get it? Perhaps he just can never get it at all, because love is, is an apparition.

She was in no way the 'image' of perfect love. Nora represented, in a nutshell, Donny's deepest and most desperate desire. She was already a part of him, but had to present herself to him in some physical form to get him to realise that she was there.

Aloe wrote:

I want… to be loved. Are you love?

Yes, Donny. I am love.

Nice one. And you contradict yourself. She puts herself in a physical state to prove she is there? Isn't she the love inside him? If she isn't the story you wrote is worse than what i interpreted it as.

Nice Aloe!

Whatif wrote:

Aloe wrote:

I want… to be loved. Are you love?

Yes, Donny. I am love.

Nice one. And you contradict yourself. She puts herself in a physical state to prove she is there? Isn't she the love inside him? If she isn't the story you wrote is worse than what i interpreted it as.

Not to prove that she is there, but to show him that all he has to do is look into his heart to find what he wants. She isn't inside him, she represents what's inside him.

Shes a symbol