I'm going to take a risk here and publish one of my short stories for the community's viewing pleasure.
Enjoy.
The only reason that he had ever really been happy was standing a mere foot from him, wrapped in light green winter clothes and smiling contently. She clasped her white purse with both hands, comfortably hidden by her cashmere gloves, directly in front of her. Her expression never changed as she stared at him from outside his front door, on top of his knitted welcome mat he had just recently brushed the snow off of.
Neither of them spoke for a full minute in deadly awkward silence, but her gaze never broke. He did not know where to begin, or even if he should be upset that she caused him so much pain in the past, and then suddenly decided to reappear without provocation. He had tried to speak a few times, opening his mouth slightly, but resealing it. This happened a few times before finding the appropriate greeting, an objective question that drifted between the realms of anger and rejoice.
"Why are you here?" He asked, and she continued to smile.
Only her lips seemed to move. Her hands motionlessly clutched her baggage, her shoulders locked evenly in place, and her spine could have been made out of stone, keeping her upright in a formal stance.
"I was thinking about you." She said. "I have been thinking about you for quite a while."
"Why now?" He found himself often shifting his balance uncomfortably.
"I don't know, but I do know that I missed you." She replied calmly, her smile never fading, her eyes not breaking contact with his. It appeared to him that she was made out of plastic, a faux relic of his past, speaking words only because he wanted to hear them.
"You put me through a lot," he said warily.
A winter chill blew through the deck, and her lifeless hair swung to her right. "I understand that," she continued, "but I hope you find it within yourself to forgive me."
He wanted her. He wanted to forgive her. He wanted to invite her inside, set her on the sofa, and watch television, and wrap his arm around her as if nothing had ever happened. She seemed so very cold; her body was too frigid to even move. He wanted to pour her tea and see her cheeks red with warmth – anything that would make her happy. The idea to hug her rose from the pits of his mind, and he embraced the girl, leaning her into him.
She did not pull away, but she did not settle into his chest or in any way embrace him back. There was no reaction at all. Her arms remained as they were, holding on to her purse. When he broke away from the hug and met with her eyes again, it had appeared as if nothing had ever happened. She still smiled at him.
He was worried now. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Her eyes continued burrowing into his retinas.
He extended a hand and grabbed her by the forearm. She did not move.
He tried to budge her arm a little. Again, she did not move.
He yanked on her arm, and she fell forward.
He gasped and the girl plunged her face into his chest. It was as if she had been frozen solid and tipped forward, as her back was still stiff and she was balanced inconceivably on her toes. And, to complicate matters, she was heavy, a lot heavier than a girl only five foot tall should be. It was more than he could support, and in the split second that she had been toppled, he failed to keep the girl from falling.
As she crashed to the ground, there was an agonizing crunch.
He looked down and in shock saw the pasty white face of the one he adored severed from her body. Her green knit hat was still tightly stuck on the top of her head, and her pale pink lips were still twisted into a smile. Her detached body was still in the same pose, wobbling side-to-side on the ground, balanced on her hands, which still clutched her purse.
He put his hands to his face, staring down at his decapitated love. "I'm sorry," he said in a hushed and helpless tone.
"This is why nobody loves you," the mannequin's head said with a grin.
Professional Critique5:32 PM - BLOOD BATH: its not terrible
5:32 PM - BLOOD BATH: has access to multiple interpretations without being too vague to the general direction or too narrow to a point
5:34 PM - Joshua: What do you think it's about
5:36 PM - BLOOD BATH: its about u being gay but it could come off as the boys fualt for being too clingy or the hoes fualt for being uninterested and undecisive or it could just be a mad man trying to pork a manaquine cuase of the voices in his head
