Magpies | The skeleton of the begining of my story

Chapter 1

The cold breath of the morning kissed her face as she stepped out of the door. Today was the day, she knew it. She closed her eyes and could see him, every tiny intricacy, and she held her breath to prolong the moment. As she opened her eyes, the sun came from behind a cloud, and the bright light pierced her eyes. She blinked, and pulled the door shut behind her. She still didn't know what she would say when she saw him, but she could still predict his reaction. She shook her head to expel the thought from her mind. She had to do it, there was no turning back.


She sat on the bus while the conversation drifted over her head. Her friends discussed their holidays, and their regret at having to return to school. The meaningless words were drowned out by the constant thud of her heart. The six week break had made her realise how much she needed him, and that the look on his face would be nowhere as near as bad as the missed opportunity, and knowing each day that he could not see the pain he caused her. So she had made up her mind to tell him how she felt. Even if her feelings were unrequited, she had to know... she had to set herself free. If she could look him in the eye, and hear him say it, then she could escape from his power. He would be changed in her view, and she could move on.

She saw him as soon as she alighted from the bus. After so long, her heart still jumped from seeing even his distant silhouette. Immediately she knew her decision was right. She just had to wait for the right moment. And that moment came at lunchtime.

She knew she would see him at lunchtime. As every day, she would go with her friends to the common room, and he would be sitting, as usual, with his friends. She would be drawn in to conversation with him, but instead of looking in to his deep blue eyes as she usually did, and enjoying the light easy conversation, she knew she would be avoiding eye contact, as she tried to delay the inevitable question, and the heartache she was sure would ensue. As she walked to the common room, she felt like a prisoner on death row, walking their final steps. She blinked away the tears she could feel forming in the corners of her eyes, and let out a small sigh. Her friends noticed that she was quieter then usual. They enquired to this, and she merely shrugged her shoulders, dismissing her mood to be tiredness. She couldn't tell them, because she knew they wouldn't understand. They flew in and out of their crushes, changing their mind with the weather. But she knew it was different for her. She had felt like this for over a year, and this was the first person she had ever 'fallen for'. She knew it was deeper than a crush, but her friends played it down, telling her it was less than she knew it was. She couldn't explain to them. Her every waking thought was about him, and his happiness. Some mornings the only reason she got out of bed was because she knew she would have a chance to talk to him that day. And now she was going to throw it all away for nothing. But it was not nothing. She had to know. Although her every happiness in the world was him, her happiness was the same very thing that broke her heart anew each time they talked, or when their hands brushed together as they walked side by side. She could feel that same pain now, the feeling that her heart had been set alight, and even now just thinking of it, the pain was unbearable.

As she entered the doorway a sensation went down her, and she could feel herself trembling. She could feel his eyes upon her even before she looked up. Could he tell? Could he see right inside her, and know what she was thinking? As her eyes met his, she was sure he knew her innermost thoughts. They both nodded hello to each other, and she walked towards the seats where her friends were already sat. The seat next to him was, as always, free for her to sit on. She tried to act the same as ever, but even she knew she was overcompensating for her somersaulting stomach, and the sick bile feeling that was rising in her throat. She was startled by the question...
"Hannah? Are you alright?"
Did he know? Could he see it? Had she been too obvious?
"I'm.... I'm fine Joseph... I... I..." she trailed off. The look in his eyes finished her sentence, and confirmed her fears.
He pulled her to one side, out of earshot of everyone else. When he turned to her, the look in his eyes was one she had never seen before. It was a mixture of pain and sorrow, a look that showed he knew what she was going through, and didn't want to hurt her.
"I'm sorry" he said, "I know what you want to say to me.... I've... guessed for a while... I didn't want to say anything, I thought we could carry on as normal"
"I didn't.... I mean... I don't want to lose you as a friend... but I had to know."
"I'm glad to know that you still value the friendship, and I want you to know that I do too... and it's not that I don't think you are a fantastic person..." Until then she had been staring intently into his eyes, but now she looked away. There were no tears to hide, but that, she felt, was the shame itself. He saw this, and stopped. He put his arms around her, and drew her close. She felt she had to explain herself. But how could she explain to the only person she had ever loved. To say to him that she wanted to hurt herself, to cause him to hurt her. To say that she didn't want to love him anymore, so that she could be as good a friend to him as he was to her. But then to make him understand that he did hurt her. Every time he hugged her, when he waited for her outside class, even when he did just a simple thing for her, he made everything worse. He made everything the mess it was by just being him. She looked at him, and her soul spoke more than she even knew herself. And then she felt the release, and the tears flowed freely. He sat and held her as she cried, not speaking. He held her close, and she knew from that moment that her feelings would never die. For she realized she did not need to stop loving him, but instead, to stop waiting for him to love her, because if only he was her eternal friend, that was enough in itself.



She could not escape the questions that echoed in her ears, brought movement to her limbs, and prevented her heavy eyes from closing. The stillness of the night only made the silent questions louder. Why did he not want her? Could she really continue to be his friend? Why was it that she loved him all the more for his reaction to her, what can only be called as madness? She had thought it would be easy when she knew all the answers, but instead it bred more questions. The morning brought with it, not relief, but dread. She could not face the day knowing she no longer had nothing to hope for. The dream had been blinked away by his sympathetic eyes as he had looked at her, pulling her heart away from all reality. She couldn't rebuild the dream when it had been broken by the hand of the creator, but the memory burned in her mind brighter that the fantasy ever had. Now it was a reality, a reality that was more difficult to face up to than the implausibility of her transient dreams.

There was a cool breeze as she made her way to the bus stop, and the drizzling rain seemed to mock the tears she could not cry. The sun no longer lightened her spirits, but seemed to show her where all her fears hid. She still saw his face as before, and although it still stirred within her the same feelings, these no longer brought her the same comfort. She was glad when the bus arrived, and she could hide her inner anguish in the friendly babble of the friends she knew could never hurt her in the way he had.

Seeing him for the first time that day brought none of the usual elation. She could not hold eye contact with him, much as she wanted to, needed to. She needed to know if the laughter in his eyes was about her, for her pity, or an attempt to hide the truth. Had he considered it much over the long, long night, and realised he could no longer remain her friend? She pushed the thoughts to the darkest part of her mind. She had to keep her chin up; she had to let the world know that she was the victor. But he would know. He could see into her soul, and know the answers before she had even found the questions. She looked up again as she entered the classroom. The moment of eye contact quenched all her fears. She could see that the expression in his eyes was for her benefit. He was doing what he could to keep her strong, and in acknowledgment of this, she could not help the small smile of relief that found its way on to her face, which, until that moment, had held an expression of glazed pain and fear. She didn't dare breath as she sat down next to him, for fear that the slightest movement would cause the barrage of truth to be revealed. She was sure that he couldn't be as calm about this as he pretended. But perhaps nothing had changed between the two of them. Her best friend insisted so, but she was not sure, and so she found herself acting different towards him. She did not intend to, but found herself insulting him more often, and snapping at him for no reason. She was angry at her own inability, and was taking it out on him. She had to use all her will not to hit him many times through they day from frustration.


She had never felt as hollow as when she got home that night. Part of her wished he had not taken it so well, that he had gone awkward, or had over reacted. Then at least she could rid herself of the 'perfect' image she had of him. She thought of how Oscar Wilde had written about women placing their men on ‘pedestals’, and realized how true his words were. She had created a perfect image of him, and when the mirror was smashed, the shards of truth hurt more than anything she had known. And yet she knew he wasn’t ‘perfect’. He hurt her every day, by just being who he was. If he had hurt her in any other way, then she could escape from him, and the hold he had on her. And to make matters worse, she still couldn't help thinking that, just perhaps, he may actually be interested in her. She decided to go for a walk to clear her head. She walked to the park, and for sake of anything else to do, sat on a swing. The simple movement distracted her from her thoughts. She sang to herself, songs she remembered from her childhood, songs that she had loved all her life, and songs that reminded her of him. She thought as she sang, of the beautiful people in the songs. The happy moments, the perfect dreams, and the true loves. The heartbreaks, the tears, and the pain. And she hoped that one day her life would be a song, instead of a ballad.

After about an hour of the repetitive movement, the storm inside her had calmed, and she was finally at peace, so decided to head home. She now felt ready to face reality again, safe ion the knowledge that her dreams were hers, even if they never did come true. The world around her was nowhere near as bright as it had been in the days before she faced her fears, but at least the fog that had hung over her for the past few days now showed some sign of clearing. All it needed was for her to take the world face on, and show no one her pain, and her secret weakness. Just at that moment, a single magpie flew over the housetops before her. At the sight of the lonely omen, the tears of her million sorrows found their way to her eyes, and fell down her face as so many wayward dewdrops.


(Edited by CardsForSorrow at 12:36 pm on Aug. 12, 2001)