He shakes his shoulders and breathes deeply, eyes steadfast on the glass before him. It’s routine. Normal. Casual. A bit heartbreaking as he observes the features staring straight back at him.

Clear cerulean orbs deep and vivid as the ocean, look deep into his with hidden and weary longing. How many times? How many days? Weeks? Months? How many years have gone by with this desire? One look into those eyes and it’s known. Too long. Too much. Too many times and too much wishing has passed for this to be anything but tragic.

Curled brown locks rest on his shoulders – the tell-tale sign of how much he’s tried and how far he was allowed to go. Any longer and the shears would come out against his will.

Turns to the left, gaze following the lines of his broad shoulders to his waist. V-shaped. No curves, all muscle on belly, arms, and legs. He follows social standards, the rules set by those who don’t understand, and holds in the liquid already pooling at the corners of his eyes.




That’s all he feels and thinks these days.

Blinks away the salty water and leans in, noting the hard lines of his jaw. He juts his chin forward and presents the shaving cut to the mirror. More evidence of what he is and a jab at what he’ll never be.

When will it end?

Years ago, he had thought it was just a phase. His brother whom had been the only supportive figure in his life had assured him it would probably go away and if not, then he’d be there. His pillar. His rock. He would not be abandoned.

But then at fourteen, when there was no denying what this was, the war had taken his support. His only support. Then he was as he is now. Alone.

He steps away from the mirror, shaking his shoulders again, this time turning away from the ugly truth. He picks up the clothes left on the floor and pulls them on. Buckles his jeans and ties on his shoes. Back to chained life.

He walks out the door and slams it shut. And as he leaves, the same thought that circles his mind every morning worms its way into his head yet again.

He is what he is and that will never change.

But he can’t help wishing it could.



My response for the writing prompt in Creative Writing Club today.

The prompt was: If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be and why? 

Obviously, since I’m not the best at first person, I decided to not do that and go with creating a different character and creating his own life story thing. I really hate adding myself to the things I write – like being an actual character. So I rarely do so and today was no different. But oh well! I liked how it came out.

And now off to finish my tales from Spain and Italy. But two things first!

One: My friend (totally BESTIE) wrote a short story in response to a Reddit prompt (which I’m totally going to be checking out for my writing prompts!) and showed it to me in English today. I was like :O! Super jaw dropping moment. So of course later in club, I bring him up and his story and end up making him drive back to school and share his story with the rest of us and of course since it was so amazing, everyone loved it! I then found out he just made a wordpress recently and so now I am recommending y’all to follow him, because for sure it’ll be worth it. He’s at philhenrique.wordpress.com There’s not much there yet, but there will soon be. So yup.

Two: I have lost my flash drive. Just today. At club. FML I know. And it was my writing one…thank god my school one didn’t go missing though. But still. That flash drive has alllllll my writing shit on there…including all the latest chapters that I haven’t felt like posting yet. *Sob* So until it is found (probably tomorrow since my creative writing club teacher is going to check for it before school starts) I will be in an unhappy mood. So Grrrr. Grrr. Grrrr. Don’t piss me off people.

Actually I’m a pretty cheerful person so…


Posted on April 23, 2014, in My Writings, Prompts/Challenges and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. This is eerily like I feel, sometimes.

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