The Neverending Writings of Nathaniel Smith

• 2011-07-18

  Well, I asked Ashley (thevinckanator) for a few words for a writing prompt, so to say.
  
  These words are: Compulsive, clouds, inhale, fade, cold.
  
  Welp, here’s what I did with those words.  The story honestly was just like, “BAM HERE WE GO,” as soon as I had received the text.
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                  The man picked at his skin, his dulled nails dragging over the small bumps and scars he had garnered over the years.  His eyes are unfocused as he looks to the sky, the glossy reflection of dark storm clouds on the whites surrounding the iris.  The black vortexes in the middle of his iris’ rapidly narrow as the sun breaks through the slight opening in the spirals of the storm.  He hisses, eyes squinting as he raises his hand to his mouth, inhaling the acrid taste of cigarette smoke.  He cares not that he’ll die from these eventually.  He lives in the moment, watching the black mass above him twisting and turning, almost like the waves that would be crashing around the boat if he was out on the sea at this moment.  His hand lowers, slowly returning to the position he had it before, resting on his stomach.  His other hand moves to resume the digging at the upraised portions of his skin.  His eyes dim as he loses himself in the turmoil unraveling above him, thinking back to a day when he didn’t have to worry about his compulsive habits.  Now, they’re all he has left and he takes another drag from his cigarette.  This time, however, as the cigarette filter leaves his mouth, a raindrop hits his eyelid, almost nailing his eye directly.  He sighs, sitting up on the hill where he had taken refuge from the constant fighting and bickering he had come to learn would never stop, even if his parents didn’t live together anymore.  He quickly shakes his head, not wanting to have the conversation he’s sure his mom will bring up when he arrives home.  And drop splatters on his shoulder as he puts his arms down to push himself up to stand.  He walks towards the black Honda he had gotten a couple months ago as a graduation gift.
  
                  As he nears the Honda, he spots a piece of paper flapping in the wind between his wiper blade and windshield.  Damn, a fucking ticket?  Not what I needed today he thinks as he walks up and pulls the paper from its resting spot.  He eyes quickly scan over the white cardstock in his hand, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion and disbelief as he reads what was written on it.  “Be here at noon tomorrow Lex, and you will see what you were put on this planet to do,” It reads before the water from the rain wash the ink away.  Lex shakes his head, disregarding the message as he unlocks his car and sits down, setting his stereo to his favorite song at the moment, I Be On That by Childish Gambino.  His car shakes as he turns the music up, trying to drown the sounds of the outside world trying to burst in.  His body lets off a shudder before his head is buried in his hands, tears falling down his face as the realization that he was truly alone hit him full force.  The feeling hits his ice cold heart, frozen solid from the years of abuse his mother and him had endured from the man that is no longer his father.  He feels slightly better at the fact that he no longer has to worry about the man’s bullshit. 
  
                  As he thinks of the fact that he doesn’t have to return to a broken home, a smile replaces the frown that was previously occupying his face.  The tears stop leaking, his heart realizing he and his mother no longer have to go through the pain anymore.  He realizes he has his mother to help him through these times, just as she has him.