The Yellow Lines (edited)

this is a longer, more descriptive and slightly different in plot version of my short story The Yellow Lines. If you haven't read that, please read that one first :)

“Never cross that road,” they told me, “Never go over those yellow lines.” I break too many rules merely with my existence, and I don't want to break yet another, so I listen. There is no voiced consequence, but it is much, much more than going to bed without dinner. Which I'm forced to do often.

I've always nodded, my fiery curls bouncing, hoping my sincerity shows in my wide blue eyes. I'm only seven, but I see the way people look at me. I'm different. My hair is red and curly, not brown and straight like it's supposed to be. My eyes are sky blue and big with extra long eyelashes. Not brown, small, and normal length eyelashes like they're supposed to be.

I'm too curious to keep the question bottled up, I need to know. But curiosity is wrong. I'm not supposed to ask questions. But I know nothing about me is 'supposed', what's one more thing?

“Momma, why can't I cross the road?What's wrong with the other side?”

“We don't talk to the people on that side, no Other does. Now stop asking questions.”

“Yes, Momma.”

**

“Never cross that road.” They told me, “Never go over those yellow line.” I follow too many rules merely with my existence, but this is one I must not break. I nod my straight brown hair falling into my brown eyes. Mother refuses to cut it, but it's annoying and impractical. But practicality isn't for the Somebodies. We're naturally reckless, naturally 'fun'. She would like me to dye my hair because I'm the only person in the whole community of the Somebodies with brown hair.

I like to read. Reading is fun.

Mother says reading is boring and for school, and only Others go to school.

The Others have a lot of rules, sometimes too many.

My older brother once told me they can't go over a certain number of inhales a day, or they're executed.

But I think he was lying, Somebodies do that a lot: lie. There's no consequences, after all.

**

I'm ten and I've just now noticed the buy in the window. He has brown hair and brown eyes, which I learned is strange for the people on the opposite side of the lines, called the Somebodies. I watch as those brown eyes widen and his face disappears from the window. I stare back at the white walls of our 'living' room, though I don't think anyone lives in here, I don't think anyone really lives in this whole side of our society. Separated by those damned parallel yellow lines.

I don't know how long I sit there, but I've learned to close myself off from the world, to enter a land all my own inside my mind so I don't get bored.

Momma used to tell me that only boring people got bored, and I always wanted to scream at her that we are boring people.

Even now, the house across the street is having a party, while I sit in an all white non-living room.

I look back out the window and open it a crack, just to hear the strange sound that oulses through it clearer. A woman's voice, words. But distorted. It gets high and loud, and low and soft, long, fast, clipped, and the words sound alike, rhymes. The poetry we study in school doesn't rhyme. “That's frivolous.” Those were my teachers exact words on the subject.

I try to imitate the strange voice, but Momma walks in.

“Elizabeth, stop singing.”

“But it's so much fun!” I protest.

“Stop it, it's illegal. If you're bored go wash the dishes.”

“But that's not fun.”

“Do what I said! Can't you just follow the rules like everyone else?!” Momma shouts. I notice her hair is going grey.

That probably my fault, too.

**

I can't stop thinking about her. How can someone on the Other side have red hair and blue eyes? Her eyes were so vivid I could see them across the wretched road. I hid from view because I was startles. But it was my chance! My chance to see if there are others like me.

Different.

The music pounds through the walls of my bedroom. I'm tired. It's one o'clock! We should be sleeping. When it's night, you sleep, when it's day, you're awake. The Somebodies have that backwards, and they drag me along with them. I get out of bed and find my mother.

“Mother, I'm tired. Please send them home.” I cry, tears leaking out of my eyes. Ten year olds should not be u this late. She sighs, fed up, “Have some fun, Xavier! Why can't you just be a normal child?” She turns away and blends into the crowd .

“I don't know.” I say to no one.

I wonder if the girl with the red hair has this problem.

**

I'm fifteen and I see the boy for the first time through only one layer of glass, my window. He's lwft his house with two friends. It's late at night, or early in the morning, I'm not sure. They push each other and nudge each other, laughing goofily. They walk toward the line and stop. First, the yellow haired friend takes a step forward, then the brown haired boy. They continue competing until they're one foot away. Neither boy will take a step . Finally, a rule the Somebodies won't break.

How I long to do that, to get that close to opening my cage's door.

The boys go inside. I continue to watch, though there's nothing to see. I don't expect when he emerges again, staring at my window in a challenge, his eyes speaking the words we can't speak aloud.

Momma and Papa are asleep.

They won't know.

I get up from the window seat and out the door, glad we have to keep the hinges well oiled. I walk out onto the pavement and sit across from him, both on our side of the lines. We sit in silence, just staring at each other. Both born on the wrong side.

**

She's sitting across from me. The girl with the flaming hair. All we do is stare at each other, because we're forbidden to talk, to touch. But everything passes between our eyes. All the years of self loathing, of being different. That is common between us.

Her pained blue eyes tell me her story in vivid detail, and mine talk back.

I absentmindedly touch the thick line on my side of the street. What a silly boundary, a line of paint can't stop me.

But it does.

Why?

What is so wrong with the perfectly normal girl across from me?

**

I am seventeen when I finally make the decision to speak to him. I know he'll reply.

I've shown him books, and he's given me a small rectangle with a wire and two spheres on the end for listening to 'songs'.

Every single night, since that first night, we've sat here, daring to get as close to the center of the lines as possible. We haven't spoken a word, but that will change tonight. I don't know his name.

But I feel something.

My lips form the feeling, my first words to him, “I love you.”

He replies, his voice strong and clear, “I love you, too.”

I stand up abruptly and he does too. We stand on our respective sides of the street, but lean forward. Nothing touches but our lips, that is, until we lace our fingers together.

**

The doors to our houses open and slam shut. I hear the swishing of our mothers' night gowns. The cocking of guns. And then, still kissing the girl with the red hair, our hands still entwined, I feel the cool metal of a gun pressed to my temple.

I love you, girl with the red hair and sky blue eyes. I think, and then my last thought, End it.

The triggers are pulled.

We are dead, our hands still clasped. I fall onto the Others' side of the street, and she falls onto the Somebodies' side, our blood permanently, though not visibly, staining the sides of the street with the wrong blood. Though it looks exactly the same.

Our already cooling hands lie clutching each other in the center of the thick yellow lines painted on the pavement.

Author's Note

reviews please!
which one do you like more? Suggestions?

Reviews

[Taylor Ann]

I love this story, I really do. I'm a person of simple words, so I prefer the other version better, but I also love the details in this one. There are aspects in each piece that I prefer over the other, but as a whole, I love the plot and your writing!
I guess the thing that makes the two different is that the first version leaves your creativity and mind to put the puzzle pieces together. I always thought the 'Somebodies' were the rich people, but instead they're the party animals. Again, all on how you read the story and piece it together.
But like I mentioned earlier, both stories are wonderful! And I loved them both very much! Great job ;)

[Sophie]

thank you!

[Hachamecha]

This one is also good :D

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed this version. You had my attention to the sad ending. You know how to write a story. Create situation and strong characters. No weakness in the story. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

[Tala]

wow, really interesting! totally loved it, especially the two first paragraphs. I think i prefered the ginger girl although that's the obvious choice isn't it?

[Sophie]

What do you mean? Like, which character you liked best?

[Tala]

The girl with the red hair, i paraphrased to ginger but i realised with the context you could have meant actual red.

[Sophie]

I knew which character you meant but I wasn't sure as to what you were asking

[A.C. Davis]

Wow, still amazing but a lot more detailed than the first one :)

[Taylor H.]

I liked this a lot. YOu have a few spelling errors and grammar mess ups but thats ok. I like the plot a lot and the first sentence dragged me in :)

[SuicidePact.]

I love this :)

[Sophie]

which version do you like better?

[SuicidePact.]

This one :)

[Sophie]

okay, thanks :)

[Odayin]

Well it's still the same story, so that part is good. I like the more details, I really do.
It makes it easier to understand in the beginning which makes it better.
The only problem I have is when they trade with the book and the iPod, i like the idea of it, I just don't know how well he'd be able to explain the iPod and tell her what "songs" are without talking. I don't know, I kind of liked how it was just nothing but staring in the last one. But either way, it's great.
In the last one you had them mention their names to each other before announcing their love...but yet not in this one. I'm going to assume that's because you wanted their her first words to be "I love you" instead of a name.
I like both ways equally, so you're call.
Overall, all in all, I like this one a little better, but, as I said, there are certain things I prefer in the other one.
Nice edit Sophie:)

[Sophie]

Thanks, I was on the fence about the book and the iPod, so I think I;m going to merge them.
Thanks for the review