Let me show you

Let me show you

A Story by Itislaissezfaire

This was my secret place. --What would you do if your safe haven was going to be destroyed by greedy money lovers? Would you team up with the son of the man in charge to go against the system? Well, she did


            The trees whispered to each other, the hush sound created by the wind that traveled through and past them.  Their leaves danced among each other, the light from the moon shining off the polished plants.  The crickets below, far beneath the tops, sung their song among the grass. All of them were in unison.  The Spanish moss fluttered down, the wind wiping their existence across them.  Everything was alive, or at least I felt that way.  I sat on the edge, my feet dangling off the peer that stuck out from the inland.  It wasn’t the waves I heard; it was everything else—the bugs, the trees, the wind.  Everything that seemed unimportant yet was needed to survive.             

            This was my secret place.

            Reaching down, I laid my hand on top of the water, trying not to sink it in the cold water. It was relaxing, a peaceful thing. I peered ahead, the waves lapping over each other—calmly. Tonight was beautiful. No, more than beautiful—amazing.  Only at night did this town become a whole new world. Only when no one was around did the creatures unveil themselves to each other. 

            And I just couldn’t understand why they wanted to tear this place down. “They” as in the mayor and his corrupt system.  “Corrupt system” as in the people who had no appreciation for nature. They wanted this part of the town gone, replaced by tourist stops. Gift shops, restaurants, and museums. If they were so intent on attracting people then why didn’t they keep this place the way it was, make it a national park; something—anything to save this place from total destruction.  Even if they didn’t know it, they were killing the animals. Where would they go when their homes were destroyed?

            I shuddered in sympathy.  My days here were limited.

            But there had to be someway to make them rethink their decision.  I needed to show them the beautiful things that they were going to miss if they tore down this part of town.  Someway—

            “Nice night, isn’t it?” a male’s voice asked from behind me. Startled, I whipped around. Too late though. Before I could make out the face, I arched my back, finding myself fall backwards. And before I could grab hold on to anything—I saw my feet in the air—I fell into the ocean.

            It was cold—too cold. And dark. It sent goose bumps down my spine as I frantically tried to remember how to swim. But I couldn’t and I didn’t know why.  I started to thrash my arms and legs, thinking that if I moved I would eventually make it up to the air. I had completely forgotten about the mysterious guy until I felt him wrap his arms around my waist. I found myself tugging away, as I was pulled into his chest. He was warm.  And before I knew it, I could breathe.  Without thinking, I grabbed hold of one of the pilings.

            I gasped for air.

            “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think I would scare you,” he apologized. I looked to my right; he was hanging onto the other piling. There was just enough light from the lamp to see him. He seemed young, maybe a year or so older than me. His soaking black hair fell over his eyes.  As the waves bobbed, the light shined into his eyes, they were dark. His smiled apologetically, his sculpted face sincere. 

            I didn’t say anything.

            “Are you okay?” he asked. I just stared at him. I must have looked shocked because he began to make his way closer, keeping close to the peer. I hid behind the wood.

            “Oh!” he said, and then he stopped. “You must think I’m here to hurt you or something. Listen, I’m not. I was just out here walking when I saw you. You looked like you were contemplating something.”

            “Pfff…ya right,” I finally mumbled—sourly.  He looked at me curiously. Then he laughed.

            “Hey, well at least I know you’re all right,” he chuckled.  He gazed up and then grabbing hold of the ledge, jumped out of the water and onto the peer. I hid under the deck. “Seriously, I’m not going to hurt you. I know who you are and you probably know who I am, too.”

            “I don’t even recognize you!” I called out from under. I began to shake; the cold water already had seeped through my clothes long ago. But I was being stubborn and didn’t want to seem weak. 

            “That’s because you always have your face stuffed in a book,” he argued.

            “No, I don’t!” I was starting to get angry and the shakes only kept getting worse. I wiped away the water on my face. I sneezed.

            “Yes, you do. And instead of being obdurate, let me help you out of the water. You’re getting sick.”

            “No, I’m not.” I sneezed again.

            “Fine, be that way. No wonder you’ve never had a boyfriend. You’re as cold as ice.”

            “You jerk!” I pushed myself away from the piling and out into the opening. He stood over me, smiling.

            “I knew I could get you out.”

            “Take that back!” I ordered. I sneezed yet another time.

            “I will when you come out of the water.” He looked smug.  In defeat, I held up my hand. He got on his knees and leaned down, his hand grasping mine. It was large yet soft. “There we go,” he said, as he pulled me out of the water and to his side. I shivered furiously.  I panted, my hands on my knees. I was too embarrassed to look at him.

            “I take that back,” he said.


            “I take that back. You’re not cold as ice, maybe a little chilly but not cold.” He laughed as if we were close friends. I didn’t find this funny. 

            I rubbed my arm, trying to warm myself up. I scrunched up my shirt and tried to squeeze the water out.  “Who are you?” I finally asked.

            “I’m still surprised that you don’t recognize me. My name’s Ely; Ely Scott. I’m in your Biology class but I’m also around during Study Hall.”

            “Really?” I rhetorically asked, surprised. “Then why don’t I know you? I’ve never seen you before.”

            “That’s because you always have your face stuffed in a book. I told you I wasn’t lying. I don’t lie.”  So I had been busy reading up on the preservation of this place; I didn’t think that was a crime. Okay, so he was lying but that still didn’t make up for the fact that he had snuck up on me and deliberately tried to scare me, in which he had succeeded.

            “You’re a stalker.”

            “No, I’m not.”

            “Then why do you watch me read? It’s not like what I’m doing is very important to you ‘people’.”

            “What do you mean us ‘people’? I didn’t think I was my own group.” He stood up. “Fine, I see I’m not wanted. So, I guess I’ll be going. See ya in class.” He turned away and began to walk to the main land, waving his hand behind him. 

            “Wait!” I called out. He stopped and turned around, waiting for me to speak. “Okay, so you’re not a stalker. I take that back.”

            “We’re even.”

            “But why did you want to talk to me?”

            “I’m not stupid. Every day I see you picking up the newspapers and books all about this place. It seems to me you’re concerned for its existence. You are not the only one.”  His voice was serious yet compassionate.


            “I want to save this place as much as you do.”

            “Then why haven’t you petitioned? Why haven’t you tried to convince the mayor; somebody, anybody?”

            “I have! Believe me, I’ve tried as hard as you have, maybe a little harder. I’ve even tried to use my dad’s influence, but nothing, I mean nothing, is going help!”

            I stood up.

            “You’re Mr. Scott’s kid. The politician.”

            “So, you do know me.”

            “No, I just know your dad is a total a*****e.” I pushed past him and onto land, speed walking my way across the park. I’d never felt as cold as I did now. It was because of his dad, the right hand man, that this park was going to die. To be turned into a tourist trap. And Ely didn’t even realize it.  His dad was the one in charge of it all, the demolition…everything. The mayor’s decision was final as long as Ely’s dad was near him. It was all about the money.            

            “Hey! You can’t just walk away and not let me explain!” He called after me, running.

            I stopped dead in my track. “Let you explain? There is nothing to explain. Your father is a hypocrite! ‘I want to preserve yet create,’ my a*s! All your father cares about is the money and fame. He doesn’t care that what he is planning to do is going to kill all this!” I stretched out my hands, trying to emphasize how big this project was. “And you knew about this.  Yet you claim to want to do the opposite; I doubt you do.  You just want to seem like the great guy everyone knows!” I stomped forward.

            “That’s not fair!” I heard him run up and then felt a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off and turned to him.  “You assuming I’m my father.”

            “And you’re not?”

            “No, I’m not. I’m completely different. Let me tell you. I go against everything my father stands for. You’re right. He is an a*****e, but that doesn’t mean I am too.  Now will you let me tell—no show you what I’m about?”

            “Show me?” I asked.

            “Yes, I want to show you I’m not just trying to put on a show. What I’m about, what this is about,” he waved around his hands like I had did, “is more than false accusations and is deeper than anybody could have imagined.”

            I rolled my eyes. “Fine, tomorrow—you meet me here. I want to see what ‘you’ are about.”

            “Okay, then. Tomorrow.” And then he smiled.  We said our good byes, I grudgingly and his, well, happy.  Then I was left all alone, the way things needed to be. 

© 2008 Itislaissezfaire

Author's Note

This has been on the planning board for a while.
Finally got around to working on it.
You might see I have a 'fetish' for nature. XD I don't know why, but I'm always drawn to love and nature. I just think they go well together.

My Review

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Dear unjust_poetry,

Like the other story I read from you (Dad), this is a very fine piece. The story is interesting, the characters are engaging and believable, and the writing is excellent. I have no significant technical comments. Any slight weaknesses I'm sure you'll fix yourself.

Very best regards,


Posted 13 Years Ago

hmm, nice, I like the heroine in this story, she's gutsy but believable. Obdurate, Great use of the word ( I prob need to look up the verbatim definition of it again, haha) but I like the imagery in this story please, do continue it!!!!!!

Posted 13 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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2 Reviews
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on August 21, 2008




I live to write. I write to live. That's just me. Writing allows me to lock onto a world that will never be; to explore the depths of imagination, and to express the ideas that I have been holding in .. more..


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