FWF Free Write Friday, Image Prompt


 

She had seen him at school, the first day she arrived. He was in her first period class, and as each student stood to say their name, she made sure to write his down on her notebook. Brian, saying it out loud, but softly as she went over and over the letters she had written down. She was sitting one row over from him and two seats back.

As she was looking at the teacher while she was speaking, Robin could see his black curly hair. She kept her gaze on him and the teacher. The teacher probably thought that she was the most attentive student in class!

Robin didn’t see him any other time of the day but lunch, and she found him sitting with his buddies at a table. There was no way she was going to try to sit with him, with it being an all guy table. She took her lunch tray and intentionally walked beside the table, brushing her body softly up against his as she walked by, and then stopping and apologizing for bumping into him.

He looked up at her with those big, brown eyes, and his bright whites, smiled at her, and he winked, saying no problem, forget it, and then he went back to talking to his friends. Robin walked over to a table and sat with a couple of girls she knew, but she didn’t really hear anything that was being said, as she was mesmerized by the guy with the pearly whites.

School ended for the day, and she was at her locker getting her books together to take home to study, when he walked by, and just as he was about past her, he stopped and backed up and said, ” Hey, I’m Brian, and you are?” Robin told him her name, and he said hi and then walked on to where he was headed.

He had spoken to her! He had made an effort to stop by and ask her name! She was so excited, she could feel her heart beating out of her chest. She grabbed the rest of what she needed, and slammed the locker door shut and went home.

At home, the house was quiet, and she found a note on the kitchen table from her mom, letting her know she was going to be a little late. Could she go ahead and get the salad prepared and the carrots peeled for supper, plus set the table.

Robin was in such a good mood, that she not only followed her mom’s directions, she started a load of laundry and ran the sweeper in the living room. When her mom arrived home, she made a big deal about what a good kid she was, and gave her a big hug.

Since mom was home, Robin went to her bedroom and pulled out her books and did some studying, every once in a while stopping to think about Brian. Her mom came to her door and tapped on it and said she had a phone call.

Robin put a book marker in her book and got up and went to the living room phone, and after saying hello, she heard the voice, his voice, it was Brian! Her legs quivered and her gut felt warm. She could feel butterflies flying around in her stomach. She heard the other side of the phone saying, game, Friday night, 6p.m., and then there was silence. She heard again, are you there, did you hang up? Robin coughed and said oh yes! I would love to go!

She had a date! She was going out with Brian, this Friday night! Oh my gosh!  She then heard the words, alright see you at the football field by the bleachers Friday, and before she could say anything else, he hung up.

She hung up the phone and practically ran to the kitchen to tell her mom the exciting news. Her mom was busy finishing up with supper, and told her how nice that was, that she was happy for her, and with that, Robin went to her bedroom, and instead of going back to her studies, she climbed on top of her bed, and jumped up and down so high, she felt like she was jumping to heaven.

 

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Writers


A chalkboard.

A chalkboard. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been writing for a month today, and have discovered that it is a wonderful way to release stress, to be able to voice through words, what I have felt and never been able to say. As time goes by, and I have retained more and more followers, it hit me today, that although there are many topics, titles, different lengths in our stories, we all are human and we all want the same thing. It doesn’t matter if you have been following me from the beginning, or you started following me yesterday, our words still express the same thing. A yearning to be accepted and loved. We come in to this world from dust. The first person our eyes meet are the ones who love us and will stick by our side for ever, right? Or wrong. Some of never make it to that home we were meant to go, for one reason or other. Some of us don’t make it to see the world as a child will see it. Some of us always have the same parents through out our lives, some have one, or maybe multiple parents. We learn in school we get rewards. A gold star, our name chalked on the black board. A monetary reward for good grades, maybe a restaurant of our choice for work well done. Elementary days are the greatest. Life is exciting, we make new friends, we discover new things our parents never taught us. Then there is a bridge you cross over. Called Middle school/high school. For some of us, that is a very difficult bridge to cross successfully. Classes become harder, more home work is put upon us. Puberty is in full swing. Our hearts begin to feel feelings we have never experienced and our bodies become unglued.  Friendships change, leaving us to ponder on what is wrong with us. What did we do or say wrong. Individuality starts to play a major role in our lives. Somewhere,somehow, no matter how many parents you had. or where you were lived, or how you were brought up, for a brief moment in time, or for some much longer, we yearn for what we once had. That gold star, that feeling of being loved. The need to feel accepted. Our worlds become shaken. Some folks turn to drugs, some to alcohol, some to shrinks, some to early death, and then there are us, the writers. We are able to take all that has happened in our lives. Our needs, desires, our wants, and we have been able to successfully put these in words. We have become loved, and needed by each other, and we get that gold star through acknowledgement of our postings. I am more proud of me today than I have ever been. Expressing myself and having a group of followers is all I needed to feel complete. Someone understands me. They have felt my pain, or happiness, or confusion. Thank you fellow writers, for being in my life. You may not know me personally, but you understand me, and accept me for who I have become today.