#9 Loss

#9 Loss

A Chapter by tynamite

Let me tell you about something that I found weird enough to remember. I was in a room with strangers who were in the kitchen and washing dishes. I do not know these people. I don't know what I was doing in the room to be honest. All I did was stand and see what was going on.


In the kitchen, it was very bright. Two women were in the room talking in a friendly manner. I presume them to be friends, as they couldn't start talking. I had no idea what they were talking about, as they were talking about things that I was not aware of.


That's when a woman walked in the room. She looked like one of their friends as well. Right now, the two women had got themselves some crisps that were in the cupboard. That's when the new woman went into the cupboard to do the same. Instead of sit by the table which is what the other two were doing, she decided to continue standing in the doorway to watch the two talk. Judging that all she was doing was standing by the door and not doing anything, I thought that something was going to happen. The woman must have been there for a good ten minutes, before she started to do anything than stand in a doorway and eat crisps.


She got up and stood by the kitchen surface, but instead at the other side of the room of the two. Her two friends were by the kitchen surface as well. What I could see was that the person wasn't really interacting. She was listening to what the other two were saying, and I could see that she understood it. She wasn't smiling, but she was affirmative of what they said. To be honest, she didn't look happy. She didn't look sad either. I could not tell that anything was wrong with her. I was just wondered why she wasn't talking. None of it made any sense.


It didn't take long since then for her to get near to the kitchen side. She took some biscuits by the side and then stood by the women. They were still chatting amongst themselves. They didn't notice her. I knew from then that something was wrong.


Shortly after after one of them said something, she added her words to get involved in the conversation. They didn't seem to hear her. She tried it again. And she tried it again. I looked at her, and her face looked aggravated and desperate. I'd never seen anything like it. She desperately tried talking to them again with her last hopes, and it was to no avail. She then waved her arms in front of their faces and shouted hello several times. That didn't do much else either. All that happened is that they blinked more as the air hit their face.


Now she had switched irreparably to the point of no return. Her face was now read and full of emotion. It didn't look like anything else could make her worse than she already was. There were plates in the drying rack. She frantically picked them up exhibiting heavy breathing. It looked like she was just about to cry. She picked up the plates one by one, and dashed them on the floor like paper aeroplanes, without any hesitations. She screamed in anguish as she threw them. The sound was striking. The two looked at the broken glass on the floor, then at each other perplexed, and then carried on. She stormed out the room, crushed, her livelihood in tatters, with what little she had left of her life.


Nobody could hear or see that woman, for she was a dead woman.



© 2011 tynamite


Author's Note

tynamite
I told you Excess Rah Style was getting serious. It'll get dark in the next chapter.
On that note, who misses the music, pictures and general light-heartedness.

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Reviews

Oh wow! I was wondering. She was dead. You are getting dark.
Still it was somewhat funny to me!~ Ha! You were seeing ghosts!
This was an amusing chapter to me.

Posted 12 Years Ago


tynamite

6 Years Ago

I like to go out my comfort zone. I don't like to rest on my laurels.

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Added on January 30, 2011
Last Updated on August 25, 2011
Tags: missing, love, gone, grieve


Author

tynamite
tynamite

Birmingham, England, United Kingdom



About
Hello peepz! I write novels and short stories in the "urban life" genre going for the "thought provoking" style. You could call it realism, but even romance and crime novels can be realistic, so I.. more..

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