Monster Beside me (Sample Work)
Sample of my work:
Monster Beside Me (sample)
You know that feeling where you don’t even know if the world you live in is real or if you’re in your nightmare? That’s what I feel like every day. Losing someone precious has its toll and knowing that they don’t have to see this world and what it’s turning into is bitter sweet. I wish I could hold him one last time, but I know it will never happen. His time had come, and I was left to pick up the pieces and live for the both of us. As I stood over his grave in the corner of the cemetery, the sun was mocking me as it beat strongly against my back. Funny, I always thought it was rainy when someone visited someone they missed at a cemetery. The thought made me smile gently as I touched his tombstone one more time before turning to leave. Perhaps it was his way of saying he was making sure I was okay. How irritating…
When days went by, I could barely see the difference anymore. Everything dragged on as if I’d never see any light at the end of my tunnel. However, it was that day a year ago that I saw something had to change. I came back from the dead, so to speak because I knew he would want more of me. He always demanded my best from myself even if I didn’t want to give something my all. ‘Life is too short,’ I’d always hear him say.
Silly how it’s the little things I remembered so much about him. Perhaps in the end that was what mattered the most. His hair how it curled loosely down to just below his ears where he always had it cut. The way his deep blue eyes marveled at any new information he could find about me when we went on dates. His olive skin and how his face would flush red whenever I teased him. His loud laugh when he was nervous and his smirk when he knew he embarrassed me.
A tear fell down my cheek as I walked back to my motorcycle. Wiping it as I picked up my helmet and slid it over my head, I took in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, I started the engine and let my mind concentrate on the road because if I let it go back to that grave, the tears would never stop.
Feeling as if I was being watched, I looked around when I could. Of course, I could see nothing, but it was truly weird. Never did I have that feeling until after his death. Thinking of his name always made me cry. ‘He’ was all I could call him for now. He had a handsome name. At least I thought he did. Handsome face, slender body that was toned and tall. Over six feet for sure. Towering over my five feet and seven inches. I always asked him if it was a family trait and he told me that it was a secret. Anything with his family was a secret.
Coming up to my apartment parking garage, I weaved through the busy city. Milwaukee had its high points. It wasn’t Chicago, but it had the art museum and beer. Lots of beer. Actually, I was from a small town ‘up North’ and he was one of the first people to show me around. College had been rough, but he made it easier. Always showing me something new to do until we eventually just started dating. Organic and slow was the pace we had, but it suited us.
Killing the motor and swinging my leg over, I went up the cement stairs to the door where I swiped my access card. I knew it was impossible but that feeling of being watched still lingered. Walking up to my apartment on the second floor, I felt my pace rushed and out of breath by the time I reached my door. Using the deadbolt and the swinging door bar guard for once, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my face.
Still red from the emotions earlier, I sighed as I started to pace the small studio I could afford. Nothing fancy, but still more than expensive. My small day bed and my thirty-two-inch tv were the only two big pieces of furniture I had. Some shelves that the tv sat on and folding chair card table set up for a dining set was all I had room for. My clothes were in a chest next to my bed. The walls were ivory, and floor was hardwood, not the nice kind, but the original work. The ceiling had those industrial pipes going through everything and they were incredibly tall. A small balcony that barely fit one person out there was just outside the patio doors. This was home.
Sighing, I went up to the patio door and made sure it was locked as I realized that my day off was almost coming to a close.
You know that feeling where you don’t even know if the world you live in is real or if you’re in your nightmare? That’s what I feel like every day. Losing someone precious has its toll and knowing that they don’t have to see this world and what it’s turning into is bitter sweet. I wish I could hold him one last time, but I know it will never happen. His time had come, and I was left to pick up the pieces and live for the both of us. As I stood over his grave in the corner of the cemetery, the sun was mocking me as it beat strongly against my back. Funny, I always thought it was rainy when someone visited someone they missed at a cemetery. The thought made me smile gently as I touched his tombstone one more time before turning to leave. Perhaps it was his way of saying he was making sure I was okay. How irritating…
When days went by, I could barely see the difference anymore. Everything dragged on as if I’d never see any light at the end of my tunnel. However, it was that day a year ago that I saw something had to change. I came back from the dead, so to speak because I knew he would want more of me. He always demanded my best from myself even if I didn’t want to give something my all. ‘Life is too short,’ I’d always hear him say.
Silly how it’s the little things I remembered so much about him. Perhaps in the end that was what mattered the most. His hair how it curled loosely down to just below his ears where he always had it cut. The way his deep blue eyes marveled at any new information he could find about me when we went on dates. His olive skin and how his face would flush red whenever I teased him. His loud laugh when he was nervous and his smirk when he knew he embarrassed me.
A tear fell down my cheek as I walked back to my motorcycle. Wiping it as I picked up my helmet and slid it over my head, I took in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, I started the engine and let my mind concentrate on the road because if I let it go back to that grave, the tears would never stop.
Feeling as if I was being watched, I looked around when I could. Of course, I could see nothing, but it was truly weird. Never did I have that feeling until after his death. Thinking of his name always made me cry. ‘He’ was all I could call him for now. He had a handsome name. At least I thought he did. Handsome face, slender body that was toned and tall. Over six feet for sure. Towering over my five feet and seven inches. I always asked him if it was a family trait and he told me that it was a secret. Anything with his family was a secret.
Coming up to my apartment parking garage, I weaved through the busy city. Milwaukee had its high points. It wasn’t Chicago, but it had the art museum and beer. Lots of beer. Actually, I was from a small town ‘up North’ and he was one of the first people to show me around. College had been rough, but he made it easier. Always showing me something new to do until we eventually just started dating. Organic and slow was the pace we had, but it suited us.
Killing the motor and swinging my leg over, I went up the cement stairs to the door where I swiped my access card. I knew it was impossible but that feeling of being watched still lingered. Walking up to my apartment on the second floor, I felt my pace rushed and out of breath by the time I reached my door. Using the deadbolt and the swinging door bar guard for once, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my face.
Still red from the emotions earlier, I sighed as I started to pace the small studio I could afford. Nothing fancy, but still more than expensive. My small day bed and my thirty-two-inch tv were the only two big pieces of furniture I had. Some shelves that the tv sat on and folding chair card table set up for a dining set was all I had room for. My clothes were in a chest next to my bed. The walls were ivory, and floor was hardwood, not the nice kind, but the original work. The ceiling had those industrial pipes going through everything and they were incredibly tall. A small balcony that barely fit one person out there was just outside the patio doors. This was home.
Sighing, I went up to the patio door and made sure it was locked as I realized that my day off was almost coming to a close.
Copyright © 2019 Sarah Clements
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved.
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