literature

Apocalypse

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Literature Text

Everyone was gone. I sighed, somehow lonely now with my bag of presents. I filled my backpack and swung it onto my back. The rain hadn't let up all day and behind me it was still pounding down in the courtyard. My breath fogged in the December shadows and I rubbed my hands together, then readied myself to heft up my bag.

"Miranda."

Orlando's voice took me off guard. I started and whirled, unwieldy in my layers and enormous backpack.

He was standing in the courtyard, a small smile dancing on his lips. The rain showered down around him, pasting blond curls to his face. He wore no gloves or hat, not even a coat. Already he was completely soaked.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" I moved toward him, then stopped at the edge of the overhang. "You'll get pneumonia. Is that how you want to spend winter break?"

Orlando grinned and crooked a finger at me. "Come here."

I snorted. "No way."

"Put you bag down and come here."

"Orlando," I said, but couldn't think of an excuse that would win an argument with him.

"Yes?"

The rain pelted down harder.

With a frustrated sigh, I dumped my backpack next to my locker and, hunching my shoulders, made my way out into the rain. By the time I reached Orlando, water had already leaked through my hat.

"What?" I snapped.

Orlando stepped a little closer. His breath fogged in the air above my head as he pulled off my hat.

"Hey!" I grabbed for it, but he held it high above me and had tossed it over my shoulder before I could pull his arm back down. "What the hell—"

He grabbed my arm as I began to go retrieve it. "No, stay. That's not how this works."

"How what works?" I demanded. My hair was soaked now and water ran down my face. I ducked my head, only to have Orlando lift my chin again.

"If you don't fight it, you don't feel the cold," he whispered, unwinding my scarf.

My teeth chattered. "You're insane," I hissed. Rain was running down under my collar. It was like ice, but I couldn't walk away. Orlando's steady blue eyes held me in place. My heart pounded, my breath coming faster. I let Orlando pull off my gloves, then my coat.

"What is the point of this?" I said, my teeth clenched to keep them from clattering against each other. My hands went automatically to my arms, but Orlando pulled them down again.

"Relax," he instructed me.

"How did you talk me into this?"

"I didn't."

The rain had soaked through my sweater and oxford shirt. My skin was almost painfully goose-bumped against the cold.

"Why are we doing this?" I shuddered.

"Relax," Orlando said again.

Relax.

Something in the way he said it made me comply. I closed my eyes. Forced my shoulders down. Straightened my hunched form.

Oh, shit, this is freezing.

Relax.


I let my breathing slow. My pulse calmed. The rain continued to soak me, but now it felt lighter, like it was washing everything away. Somehow I forgot to be annoyed with Orlando. I forgot about the cold and pneumonia. I forgot about things that made sense because this didn't make sense but here I was. There was nothing, nothing but this moment.

Orlando's hands tightened on mine.

"Look up," he whispered.

I raised my head.
(December 21, 2012)

[link]

Have you ever just stood in the rain and looked up? It's weird because you can't see the rain usually, but you can feel it. But all you can see is grey clouds and it's like infinity.

....yeah.

So, my OCs, guys. This is Miranda Wellington and Orlando Stone from a book I've been working on for two years this month. Everybody sing with me now: "Happyyyyyy bithday, Mirandaaaaaa!"

Okay, because not only is it anniversary month, but it's also her birthday (no, I'm not kidding, guys). It's also "the end of the world" so I combined her birthday and "apocalypse" and a scene I've had in my head for two years. Apocalypse is really just like the ending of the world as we know it or something. Whatever it is, I take it to mean it's just something that changes our view of the world and for Miranda this was one of her catalyst scenes.

No, I have not finished the book....And yes, this is the same person who wrote a book in fifteen days for Camp NaNoWriMo. The problem, actually, for this one is that I kept changing the plot. Basically it's about a girl who has cut herself off from her emotions to forget the sexual abuse she underwent as a child and how her actions led to her father's death and alienation with her mother. She's been moving around for the last eleven years, but now her mom is determined to stay in one place. Against Miranda's will, she signs her up for a school club (the Shakespeare Club) and as Miranda gains friends she learns to accept and let go of the past.

Wow, that was vague, but whatever. There are twelve other members of the club, other than Miranda and Orlando (yes I know both Shakespeare names). One of the characters is actually based off me, only she is so much more the book nerd I want to be because she somehow has time.

Anyway, characters and setting=all mine

Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Miraaandaaaa
Happy birthday to yoooouuuuuu
© 2012 - 2024 MidshipmanK
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JarOfHope's avatar
what happened in conneticut???? o_O

yes, I have stood in the rain and looked up. I do random things like that on a daily basis to appreciate the world. Have you ever stared at yourself in a puddle on a gray day? Or just stared at the ceiling? It's fun. :)