Sunday, September 4, 2011

Destynee Week 67

Destynee Cullen

Picture 1

Picture 2

Destiny Cullen’s Choice: Picture 1


“As you probably already know, we are in the midst of a full on zombie apocalypse.”

I lowered my book slowly glaring at Jack. He’s been my best friend for over four years. Four long years.

“Just you wait. You’re going to come running to me when our town becomes brain eating zombies. Oh wait, you have nothing to worry about you don’t have brains. They’ll just walk right past you.” I lifted the book high enough to block out Jack’s body, effectively shutting him out.

“Come on, Sean! You need to get your nose out of those books and get some sort of a life.” He grabs the book from my clutches and I lunge for it.

He quickly moves it out of reach and I shout, “Give it back,” like a six year old. Jack holds the book above his head, which is about five inches above my own, and mocks me with a smirk.
“Sean, you have to see what is here in front of you, not what ‘might’ happen.”

I narrowed my eyes at him trying to distract him so I could get my book back and read in peace. “What do you mean ‘right in front of me’? I like living in my fantasy world — there isn’t anything important out of it.”

Jack suddenly stiffened and his eyes lost all trace of humor. He lowered his arm to his side, but the look on his face made me forget about the book. I couldn’t place the emotion on his face. Hurt? Sadness? Betrayal? It seemed to be a mix of all three.

“Jack?” I asked cautiously.

He didn’t respond, he just kept staring into my eyes, trying to find a answer. But I had no idea what the question was.

“Jack, what’s wrong? Come on, talk to me.” I put my hand on his shoulder and he let out a breath, shaking his head.

“I knew you’d never figure it out.” His voice was weak as if he could hardly push the words out.

I frowned at him. “Figure what out? What are you talking about?”

He just shook his head and held the book a few inches from my chest. “Here is your wool, put it back over your eyes.”

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward me before he could turn and walk away. “What is this? What the hell are you talking about?!”

Jack sighed a sound of pure exhaustion. “Where do you want me to start, Sean? I’m tired, so tired of this. I’ve tried to make myself as clear as I can without forcing myself on you. For the past three years I’ve gone on like this. But I can’t do it any longer.” He tore his arm away from me and took off.

I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think. All I could do was watch him walk away and wonder why it felt like a part of me was ripped out.