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    Agaith
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

I can't talk about it - 1. Chapter 1

I could hear them again; this was the fourth time in as many hours that they had started sniping at each other, stupid little comments, little moans, complaints, and retorts. It should have just been nothing; but it kept happening.

I looked over at my sister, I shared the same expression she did, guarded neutrality, and we knew they weren’t happy with each other. She put her headphones back on to ignore it all, and me, I felt sorry for her but I had to do this.

I put my coat on and stuffed my iPod in as well. I left my phone in my room on purpose.

“I’m going out.” I called to my parents. They had stopped arguing for now, my dad sitting on the sofa watching TV my mum was standing in the kitchen, her shoulders shaking slightly.

Mum asked where I was going to which I lied and told them I was going to the pub with a friend.

They didn’t query it so I said a quick goodbye to them and walked out the door. A tear quickly formed as I shut the door, the silence after it closed seemed final.

It was final.

Funnily enough I walked past several pubs on my route to my destination, it was a public place, but at this time of night and in this temperature, no one was here at all.

The path up towards the hill was pitch black but I had scouted the route out several times. Hell, dad had even taken me here to practice hill starts in a car.

The path wasn’t very long and I managed to find the place I wanted to get to pretty easily in the end.

I shivered for the first time since being outside, it was forecast to be at least -10 Celsius tonight, and as I sat on the bench I could believe that.

Nothing stirred the sight and sounds of my breath the only thing disturbing the serenity of the place.

I looked at the tear splashes on the concrete that glistened from frost underneath the gaze of the three quarters moon that was out tonight.

I checked the time on my iPod, 9.45pm, not late enough for me to be back yet so they wouldn’t worry at the moment.

I placed my iPod back in my pocket, wondering if that would be the last time I would use it.

The place I had come to was a viewpoint of the surrounding valley; it offered superb views of the area, not that I could see tonight anyway.

I reflected on what some of my friends would be doing right now, clubbing, house party or pub would be most likely for them all. I sighed as I remembered all the times I was with mates at party, still sober, still self conscious, still feeling lonely amongst dozens of other people.

Being gay doesn’t help, not that I have had any problems with people and my sexuality yet.

The constant feeling of being different, not liking the party scene, gay scene is too extrovert for me, my martial art club is mainly with graduates, and live outside town.

I feel like I can’t open up to my flatmates yet...wait it’s because I never open up that I feel like that.

Why do I do that? I could ask myself, the answer; I always try to push it down, I lie so much to myself and to others about my feelings that I almost sometimes forget what I have hidden so deep down.

Until it emerges, until something reminds me how I feel about myself: physically, mentally, totally.

More tear splashes are illuminated by the moonlight and I swear it has gotten colder; like I give a shit anymore.

For my whole life I felt like I didn’t fit in, friends were either classed as acquaintances or were people I knew from other people.

Even people I knew for a long time, I hated to ring them to ask if they wanted to hang out.

I always felt like I was intruding, like the dog that pawed for attention if I ever asked them.

I waited for them to ask me, stupid I know, but it was the only way I knew that they wanted me around.

I stood up and looked over the lip of the cliff the viewpoint was situated on, had it been light I could have seen the height of it, but everything was hidden, just like my emotions.

And I thought back to my parent’s arguing they weren’t happy, that much was obvious, was it my fault? I went away from home; I told them I was gay? Did that start the arguments?

All these thoughts, all these feelings, the self hate, the doubt, the feelings loneliness kept spinning in my mind, my brain was ticking over faster than I could imagine.

Occasionally a happy memory came across but that was nearly always followed by a period of loneliness.

I recalled the countless times of overwhelming shyness, of times when I was nearly paralysed by it, stuttering, stumbling always ending up leaving the party, gathering, whatever it was early, always hoping something would click in my brain, but it never did.

I didn’t want to feel this anymore, didn’t want people telling me it would get better, and I’ve been told that all my life. Fuck all it did.

A gentle rustle of the trees brought me back to the cold reality and I could see the area of snow that had been melted by my salty tears, I realised I had sank to my knees; my legs were freezing from where I had knelt in the snow.

I walked to the edge, the ground there steady enough to take my weight.

I looked into the darkness, the empty space below me fitting.

I was numb and raw now, both from the cold and from the crying.

‘No more’ I thought before I fell, and the pain ebbed.

Copyright © 2010 Agaith; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Um, this is extremely emotive.

 

Wonderfully written. It makes me feel sympathetic for the main character, but also extremely worried. And hurts. It makes me think of my own son, and what that would do to me if he were ever suffering so much, and I was blind to it.

 

I wish it doesn't work for this character. For some miracle to stop it happening.

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We've all been there, in a certain way.

That's why I enjoyed this piece so much. Because it is honest and real.

 

And the title is just simply perfect.

To me, it's the irony that makes it perfect.

"I can't talk about it"

Yet, he goes on and on telling us everything.

 

Really deep writing! Good job!!

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Ouch indeed...

 

As much as I feel sorry for the main character, part of it is a reflection of my own social life. It makes me wonder how many other people are out there that are like me.

 

Again, very deep, very honest, and excellent writing! :2thumbs:

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Extaordinary sad with an element of mystery.

The story title was so apt as I kept thinking why, why, why, both for the action and the reason for taking it.

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I haven't read this before. I wish I had. Like others have said it's really honest. It's raw and it hurts. I have so felt like the dog pawing at the door... I still am. You've made me think about it actually but that's for another time and place, the important thing is that it made me think. It makes me think about a lot of things. I think one of my biggest fears for my son is that he ever gets to the stage that he is not ale to talk to me. Talking is not always the answer I appreciate that but it certainly helps. I think that by the time you get to the point your guy has there really isn't anything to say to make an impression; to draw him back from the edge of the void. It is so sad that no one noticed before so that they could have stopped it ever getting to this place.

 

I can very much relate to this boy in many ways. There are aspects in what he is feeling that I have felt. I think that there are aspects in him that everyone has felt and that is a huge strength in the story.

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Yes, a short but excellent story.What can i say? people reviewed here said it all.I feel like you are writing my story.I can very much relate to the fact of being alone in a crowd.This character is so much like me.He is talking when no one can hear him.I agree with all the other people."We've all been there, in a certain way".Intense writing.deep thought.Though i dont agree with the end.Life changes and its worth to live.Never be so disappointed.

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:hug:

 

I have been emotional all day and just getting better, then I read this and now I'm back in tears. I know these stories are important and so many go through these options, some actually step off the cliff too. My heart breaks for anyone that goes through this. I just wanna give them a hug and promise to make it better. You made me feel so many feelings that I personally have pushed under the surface too, today those feelings of rejection were not far and this story really hit the nerve. Thank you for a really important stroy. A lot can be said in a few words.

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This story was really great. Throughout that entire thing I felt like I knew what was coming and I was hoping it wouldn't happen, yet at the same time I knew that it would come to pass.

Very well written. Very connectable emotions in this story.

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Hey Stuby , Just wanna hug you for this , lots of emotions and I totally get it. Your an amazing awesome guy, but I tell you that enough already. Great work :) Mark

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That's really powerful writing. It's a bit worrying, yes. One can even say that it's a little disturbing. But you captured the emotion of the main character really well. Good job thumbsupsmileyanim.gif

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What can I say that's not already been said ? The emotions were very easy to pick up, I like the way the character wasn't as important as the emotions and feelings you were trying to be across. A bit dark, but there is no way to handle the subject matter in any other way really.

 

Really enjoyed it Stuby, I'll have to work through the rest of your work now : P

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