Silent Creep

   She sat on the deckchair underneath the shade with her nose in her book. It was a good book by her favorite author Noire. Her feet were propped upon another chair to get some sun.
   He walked around the corner and was taken aback at what he had seen on the deck. He backed up as soon as he saw her. Peeping around the corner he just admired her beauty.
   She picked up her lemonade and took a sip. She drew on a disgusted face. Perhaps too much sugar? Too less? She got up and headed inside for the kitchen with the glass.
   He walked forward a bit. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Down he fell! He tripped over a flower pot! He quickly got up and ran to the front of the yard.
   She headed back to the deck wondering what that sound was. She took a glance from around the wall, searching for clues. Nothing. She headed for the front window.
   He sat behind a bush tending to the scrape through his jeans. He fell hard on the pavement. He shouldn't have been back there. He better go before anyone sees him snooping. He turned around to find her staring down at him. She blocked his path with both hands on her hips.
   She looked at him, curious to his purpose being there. He looked hurt. She knelt down to take a look. There was blood through his jeans.
   He followed her into the house. He watched as she retrieved a band-aid from a drawer and a paper towel. She wiped the blood and put on a band-aid.
   She was admiring how cute he was. He was chunky with a pretty face. Maybe they could become friends.
   He reached out a hand for her to shake as a thank you. She took his hand and swiftly pulled back. His palm was sweaty. He was so nervous that he couldn't keep a steady pace of breath.
   She watched as he headed for the door. She watched the stiff way he walked. He didn't even say good-bye.

Pieces of Me

     Everyday she takes a short visit to the greenhouse. Her own plants at home are dead. Every single one she has ever received in her life is dead. She thought that she knew how to care for them, she had too much pride in herself to looks for others' guidance. She over watered, and sometimes they just dehydrated. She left them sitting on her windowsill for the sunlight. Maybe she should have left them outside where they belonged to catch that natural rain.
     She gently touched a petal on a moons-flower. It was so beautiful. Of course its appearance drew her attention, much unlike the Bearded Iris. She's a woman of beauty herself. There are rare occasions that she turn heads walking the streets. Otherwise she always thinks that the men are just too shy to come talk to her or acknowledge her.
   
     He doesn't speak to her anymore. He doesn't even notice her presence, or he purposely ignores her. Just like she does to him every once in a while. She did that to quite a few of him with no explanation. She thought that she knew how to treat him. Be herself. The dos and the don'ts. She never looked for advice. Her friend's tried to help her, but they only seemed to be insulting her capabilities. Their opinions only went through one ear out the other. She'd love with her whole heart at the start and slowly begin to forget to appreciate. She'd figure that since she was being herself that their relationship would die, he would love another. Maybe it wasn't meant to be, she should set him free. There is someone out there for she. It's just not he.

Cramps of the Agony

     With a swift swing it shattered. Glass rained from the platform. Everything was moving in slow motion. I knew what was to come. Punishment. Voices chanted in harmony around me. The distraught looks on their faces made the feeling even worse. Around the corner she walked. Her gaze ran instantly onto the floor. There was a monstrous look upon her face. My breath was buried beneath the surface. I gasped as I could not exhale. My face was scorned by her. The feeling wasn't pleasant. Fingers were all pointed at me. She grabbed me and pulled me away into her threshold.