Two figures stood in the center of a wide, empty street. The pavement was old, graying as was the case of the few cars parked along its curbs. The sun shone brightly, slipping through the leaves and branches that formed a canopy over the road.1
"Bethany--"2
She held up her hand. Though it shouldn't have been, this was enough to stop him and she was disappointed yet again. There was worry in his eyes and his mouth remained open as his brain hurried to formulate words that would make up for a lifetime of mistakes.3
But there were none. So she walked away.4
There was nothing in her posture to alert any nosy neighbors to the fact that she was near tears. Her back was straight, her shoulders fairly relaxed, her chin level. But there was a hiccup in her sure gait, her foot slipped slightly, scuffing the pavement. She recovered smoothly, and though he watched until she was out of sight, she didn't stumble again. But the one misstep proved that he had upset her. He knew he shouldn't be glad about it, and he did feel the familiar sense of guilt, but a naughty part of him rejoiced to see that he could impact her still.5
As she walked, tears filed slowly into her eyes. They hovered expectantly on the ridges under her eyes, waiting for their inevitable descent. As usual, one didn't present itself. She thought of other things to distract her from thinking of him.6
Crossroads School of Dance, so warm and nostalgic with its old-fashioned radiators heating the refurbished barn. The smell of the dressing room, air thick with harmless secrets. The old, kind horses in the yard peeking through the large windows in front of the barre. The box of powdery white rosin in the corner, providing traction to endless pairs of pointe shoes.7
He had never seen her dance.8
She hurriedly thought of summertime in her childhood. Many boring days, but a serendipitous opportunity always presented itself at one time or another. A trip to a national park, a shopping trip with Grandma, a weekend getaway to Williamsburg or Baltimore, a day trip with a picnic, a play-date with a friend. So many of those were passed up when Mom was tired or grumpy or sick.9
Where was he then? With his girlfriend, probably, eating her Asian food or taking her on the vacations he had promised his children.10
She sighed, slowing her pace, resigned. All roads led back to him. Inevitably, he was her father. Whether he meant to or not, he would play a large part in her life. She would never stop loving him. In all honesty, she had never tried and she doubted she ever would. It would be pointless. Her problem had never been withholding love. Some would say she had to much love. She certainly felt it some days. Love hurts when there's no one to accept it, much less reciprocate.11
The tears passed. Nothing had changed.
Author notes
A bit embellished for the readers sake...I never had a moment on a sunny road with my dad, but all the memories were true and the sentiment.
A contest entry
- "Breaking Point" by Keirii.
400 points, ended March 15, 23 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Nicely done!!!
I really felt her emotions and her thoughts taking place. And I liked your usage of nature and seasons. Those always make a story enjoyable to read
Good luck in my contest!!! -
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Thanks. (: But it's not a story.
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This FELT true...
...some things are beautified or heightened and emphasized by our memories
or simply by the occurrence and people that were there to make something so memorable...
I will keep this short but sweet..
You choose the best words, the descriptions are like chocolate - I gobble them up, they're just that good. Although I feel as though sometimes, the descriptions were a bit too much - but what I said up there (first paragraph) holds true, so there may be no such thing as saying "too much" with matters of the heart.
Thanks for the beautiful read, Bee
I can relate, somewhat..
Happy happy new year 
~soda
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SODA!!
It's been so long. (: Yeah my descriptions are always over the top and I have to cut them down a little very time I re-read a piece 
How was your new years?
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back!
My new year is fantabulous and I think day 2 for your 2009 will also be grrrrrrrrrrrrrood (great + good = grood)
As for your descriptions, they are lovely.. the imageries are truly wonderful, Bee, so when you do cut down in them, save them for another story so they won't get wasted?
Hahahaha not sure if that made sense x.x
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It did make sense, you're so sweet! (:
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I really like the description in this, and the real-ness that draws you and shows you everything like a little movie passing by. Especially how you describe her walking away, and how nobody would kow she was crying par that one falter.
Probably my fave part (: Im loven this, really good work.
Happy New years :3
ebb
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Thanks, Ebz (:
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Mmm.
I like it, alot... Really! Was it a married man or something? I got that from it. It flowed well, and showed her emotions and feelings. It was good
KEEP WRITING!!!
-Melli<33 -
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Actually it's about my dad (: He's not married...well he might be by commonlaw. Or he might have done it without telling me...but as far as I know he's single. (:
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oh, that makes sence! I liked it, regardless. And is it a true story?
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Aw, thanks (: Yep, true story. Well not the dialog part, but the memories and the feeling behind it. (:
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