One Shot Stories

Sometimes, Don't Hold On

Seventeenth

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I saw the way he looks at her. His heart is full of thoughts and words but something inside him holds back. Is it fear? Can't he sort the rightful words to say? Or he's just completely mesmerized? What bothers him?

I tap his shoulders and we sit on a bench. The sun is mild with the soft clouds gently floating above. The tree leaves rustle along with the birds' tweets and chirps. Ripples and drops of water play a rhythm as they spout from the marble fountain. Golden daffodils sway while the temperate breeze brushes the freshly mown grasses. Tiny sobs from a child could be heard, looking at the red balloon soaring to the sky.

While I witness the calmness of nature that this park possesses, his eyes won't appreciate anything but a girl's figure moving out from the gates. He then looks straight, sucks in a thick pressure of air, and blasts them with a deep sigh. He won't glance at me but I smile. I know what he feels right now. He makes me remember of something...

If I could just see myself in a mirror, I would see my skin as pale as white and a mark of unease would show. The weather wasn't hot or cold but I shivered helplessly. And although I shivered from a slight chill, sweat tried to trickle all over my face. I fidgeted at my seat for how many times and my eyes shuddered.

I gulped a mouthful of saliva out of jitter and I don't know what to do. My muscles were tensed, my spines stood upright. I tried to tuck my pen between my shaking fingers and scribbled nonsense on the empty page that gazed at me a while ago. The pen slipped from my wet hands and my seatmate stared at me. I look at my teacher and manage to appear like I'm attentively listening.

I whispered to myself that I could hold this feeling. Just a little longer. But the ceiling fan that twirled sent a cold wind against me that triggered those tiny bumps over my skin to protrude. Every hair stood up as the cold swept. Soon, I found myself soaked in my own fluid despite the temperature. I can't do this anymore. I hesitated for a moment, arguing whether I would raise a hand or not. But before I could decide, my body has done an action; a shameful action I would never ever forget.

My stomach lurched but the butterflies were dead. Something had occupied the space but they really wanted to escape. It is I who prevented them. I thought I could handle this kind of situation but the longer I didn't paid attention with the call of nature, the louder it got. It was ear-splitting, almost deafening.

Just after the last call blared, a massive scent burst around the area. I knew it was unpleasant, considering the wrinkles on their noses. I bolted towards the door and hurried through the comfort room. Before I gone out of earshot, I heard them exclaim in disgust and laugh at the awful smell. At least the room I went to would give me comfort even if it's just for a moment. That's what I expected.

The floor was as wet as my skin, consider the fact that I am running, I slipped and fell hard. There was a giant splash and the thing that I tried to hold for almost an hour blasted.

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He noticed the smile that etches on my face and asks, "Why are you smiling like that? Is there anything funny?" I'm still swimming with the memories but I manage to answer him. "Just don't hold what you feel inside, son. Everything that we try to keep has many ways of coming out. Sometimes they escape smoothly, sometimes they explode." I say.

He looks at me seriously. "Believe me when I say they explode. You can't imagine how that feels." I add with a gentle laugh. His face lightens.

And after a few minutes of thinking, he stands and runs towards the girl. "Thanks Dad." He says as he left. I lean my back on the bench and relaxed.

"I'm sure I'll have the right time to tell you that story." I whisper to myself.

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Hi! I'm very happy because I managed to write a very light story. I guess we have to take a break from tragic sometimes. Hahaha! I'll be waiting for your comments guys! Thanks xx

-junellogist