Sunday, 12 February 2012

Short story

Third person limited omniscient:
As she looked at him, she realised what she had to do. She was fond of him, she always would be, but it was'nt enough. He was handsome, rich, and he loved the bones of her, but she felt nothing for him anymore.
Since that kiss, her mind was elsewhere. 'What kind of man wants to plan his own wedding anyway?' she asked herself. She had tried to drive him away; ignoring him for days on end, showing no affection, even belittling him in front of his own friends.
He showed her no emotion, no anger, no pain, just the same inane smile. 'That's ok honey,' or 'You're just tired honey,' was all the reaction he could muster. It just made him try harder, and be nicer. She was'nt interested in 'nice.'
Deep down she knew she did'nt hate him. She pitied him for being such a doormat, but she was starting to dislike herself for dragging this on. She wanted out. She needed excitement, and she knew where to find out. She knew Joe would treat her like shit, that he would'nt call, and she had even felt physically threatened by him, but just the thought of that unclean man could make her neck spasm with anticipation. She shuddered as she thought of him and she felt alive.
'Time to stop being a coward,' she whispered. She was going to put him out of his misery and tell him she wouldn't marry him. He'd probably just squeak 'That's okay honey,' anyway.
Third person omniscient:
He'd had a tough upbringing. Raised on tough love, or no love. No money. A small, awkward child, he'd grown into a fierce, handsome man. His hard youth had given him a determination to succeed and a ruthless streak to be feared. He had the world at his feet.
She was the first person to ever show him any tenderness, or love in his whole life, and he would do anything to get it back. When he thought back to when they were first dating, his heart leapt. For the memories alone, he would love her unconditionally as long as he lived, and he would do anything to win her back around.
She'd agreed to marry him, so he would just keep buying her gifts and letting her have her own way until things were back to how they were. 'I wonder what she wants to say?' he asked himself.
'Look at his pathetic face,' she thought, 'bet he won't even put up a fight.' She thought of Joe, and a ripple of excitement shot through her body.
He noticed her smile, and feeling relieved he told her, 'It's okay honey, whatever it is, we can work it out.'
She winced, she hated being called 'honey.' She looked him in the eye and just blurted it out, 'I don't want to marry you!'
Third person objective:
He slapped her hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed around the room. She blinked, and swallowed hard, but she didn't cry.
He didn't apologise, but looked at his hand for a few seconds and smiled. 'That felt good,' he told her. She looked stunned, and just sat there speechless.
He walked over to the window, fished around in his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and some matches. He lit one up and threw the match on the floor. After a long drag he slowly exhaled and faced her again.
'So, who is he?' he asked, suddenly business-like. She took a while to find her voice.
'Fuck you,' she replied.
He walked slowly across the room until his face was inches from hers. He smiled, and took another deep drag from his cigarette. After blowing the smoke in her face, he slapped her again, this time harder than before.
'I didn't know you smoked,' was her only reply.
'There's a lot you don't know about me, but you're about to find out. I won't ask again. Who is he?'

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