The Park

It's about a girl sitting in the same park as usual looking for inner peace and some inspiration trying to write her story

Her head is down. She can only see her feet marching one foot after the other. She can only hear the sound of her heartbeats. She can hear her heart but she haven't felt it for a while. She has nothing but this book and pencil in her hand. She's in the park where she comes everyday. She sits on the usual bench. She opens her book which is full with blank pages. She tried to write her story many times but something have always been stopping her. Maybe she's just not ready. She hold her head up and start looking at people, watching them living their lives. This isn't the first time she watches people and maybe that's all she ever does, just watching other people live their lives hoping one day she can live her own. Her gaze stops at two teenage lovers sitting not too far from her, laughing and kissing. She looks away timidly. This behavior in public disturbes her. They are stupidly in love -not even truly in love- but tomorrow they will fight over something stupider and brake up then hate each other. She have seen a lot of similar couples, in this park and in her life, and it always end up the same way. Although this kind of relationship is doomed, still it must be nice to live it for a certain amount of time, no matter how little this amount is. She write down in her book something that she is confessing for the first time; she envied them. She dated a couple of boys but it didn't mean anything to her. She never had this passion for anyone or anything. Even though it's summer now, but she is cold. She always have been.

She turns the page and starts to look around the park again, maybe this time she'll find something closer to her. Yes, there he is, the male version of herself. They have a lot of things in common. He is almost of the same age that she is. Just like her, He comes to this park very often. He always sits on the same bench, right in front of her with nothing that seperate him away from her but the grass that lies between the two of them. He is also, like her, always alone. He comes to read a book, or listen to music, or just simply enjoy the spirit of the park; its noise from all the people talking or laughing, coming or going, from the children playing or the dogs barking. Yet, there is silence; the silence of thoughts in your head and the silence of emotions in your heart. When she sees this handsome boy she often fantasise about him. Sometimes she even pictures him getting closer to her, talking to her or sitting next to her or just simply share a beautiful smile. Suddenly, he smiles. No, not to her but to his phone. Maybe it's his girlfriend, or maybe his friends sent him a joke, or maybe it's a special someone. It's nice isn't it? When someone text you out of nowhere and put a smile on your face when you are least expecting it, when you are most needing it. She closes the book on the page where the pen is and takes her phone out of her pocket. She looks at the screen wishing there were some notifications of a missed call or a text message. But there is nothing on that screen except some old picture of her smiling and the reflection of her disappointed eyes. She puts the phone back in her pocket. She sees the boy leaving with his gorgeous little smile on his face. It's silly to believe that he will notice her and fall in love her and have a romantic affaire in this park. But this isn't the reason why she came here. She doesn't expect anything. She doesn't want to meet people. This park has become her home, it's where she comes to have a moment of peace, a moment alone.

She comes back to reality, and to watching people. This time she looks at the little playground where kids are playing. There's a lot of types of people in this park, almost all kinds of people, almost all kinds of parents too. Those who are sitting with their little babies, those who are always busy and always on the phone or sent the nanny instead, those single parents who just have too much things going on in their minds, those careless parents who just sit there and can't wait to go home. Rare are those who actually play with their kids, who come and share a special moment with them. But whatever type of parents, or supervisors these kids came with, there's one thing in common between all of them, they are happy. They came here to play and they play their heart out. It's like they own all the world. They laugh. They sometimes fight and cry but they always want to come back. They always want more. They are having fun, the best time of their lives. Ah, to be a kid again. To see all the world as a playground. To see life what it really is, a game which we all are playing in a different way and whether you win or lose at a time, you always want to play one more time.

She was lost in the moment until she heard a woman shout to her son that it's time to go home. She flew to the world of imagination that she forgot the track of time. She is suppose to leave now. But there's one more thing she wants to see before leaving. She looks accross the street to the cemenery. She finds him, an old man who comes everyday at this hour and put a flour on his wife's grave. She can see tears in his eyes everytime. He talks to his wife's spirit for a little while then he leaves with a little smile on his face. It must be beautiful, the love that those couple have shared, that even after all these years, he still come to see her everyday, and even that she isn't here anymore, she still can make him smile. This idea puts a smile on the girl's face and gives her hope everyday, hope that true love does exist, that life is worth something after all. She shuts her book and get up, ready to go home now, to go back to the real life, hoping that one day she'll be able to write her story on the papers from the tree of life, and that one day she'll find that special someone who'll understand the blank pages.

Author's Note

This is my first attempt to write a short story. Usually i'm more good with lyrics and poem. But i wanted to share this with you guys :) i apologize for any grammar mistakes. Looking forward for your honest opinions. (I won't be offended).

Reviews

[William Yasanari Harris]

Welcome to the world of fiction.

I see three different perspectives here. The girl (she needs a name and some kind of physical description) watches young lovers and appears to be imposing her bad relationship experience on them.

The second is her watching children at play. I get the hint of dysfunctional families in their home lives, but that doesn't seem to be a consideration for these kids. They just want to play and have fun.

The third is a elderly gentleman that lived a life of true love and carried it on after his partner passed.

I think you have 3 good perspectives that need to be tied together. I think you should tie her observations and thoughts to personal experience--maybe, focusing on a single relationship in her past. I want to know how she reached this point in her life. Also, you mention her writing more as an afterthought--tie that in to the development of her character.

Fitzgerald once said that action is character and character is dialogue--add some dialogue (It can be her talking to herself or imagining a conversation with the other person from the past.)

You've reached inside yourself for the first draft, but remember a first draft is like putting sand in a bucket. Rewriting is where you turn the sand into a castle.

[William Yasanari Harris]

PS: I added some more chapter today.

[Amanda Moubarak]

That was very helpful. Thank you for your good insight and advices as always :)

[Amanda Moubarak]

Greattt i was waiting for it :) going to read it right away :)

[JDAwesomeness]

I love this so much! It explains life in a simple way. The different kind of people and different kind stuff that happens. I didn't think it was possible to make life so simple. Great job!

[Amanda Moubarak]

Thank you so much :) glad you liked it 😄