October 13, 2013
Chatwick University Creative Writing Experience.
Black and White category
Story line photo: The swing set
Honorable Mention
Titled: Regret
(abridged)
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Based on an actual Occurrence.
I stopped by the old playground while visiting my old haunts in the town I once lived.
Like me, it had grown older, wearier, and rougher around the edge.
I stood there on that blustery fall day in silent memory.
I had played here, fought here; shed a tear here……
But never found love here.
The swing set was still there, thought, like me, not quite the same.
So was the little hut, Abandoned now, grass and vines have claiming it as their own.
And I went to it, looking inside as I remembered how she had looked, a memory long ago suppressed.
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I had watched her many times, albeit from a distance. We both went to the same high school, though as far as she cared, I never did. I had tried to talk with her, smitten as I was with her. But only received blank stares in return, as if I wasn’t even there. And I would walk away, scathing remarks would follow, stabbing me as I went. So I loved from afar, an outcast of my own making. She had only lived a block away from the playground, and would spend many evenings hanging out there with her friends, an inner circle only the most popular dared to apply for admission into. I would walk the 15 blocks hoping to catch a glimpse of her, usually paying the price of being bullied by the neighborhood boys who also hung out there. So my stay was very seldom long.
It’s hard to say, looking back now, on what my attraction was too her. Her eyes, her laugh, her long hair which danced in a merry ponytail as she animatedly talked to those in her clique. But even though she forever remains beyond my grasp, it was a part of my life that I would still repeat, even with all the pain and sorrow; only if it included her.
I also can recall the last time I saw her , it was here, at the playground I now stood. The year of our graduation. It had been a warm spring Saturday. I had made my sojourn with the same hope in my heart that I always carried, arriving at the playground just before twilight. She was nowhere to be seen. The only ones there were a group of my tormentors crossing across the playground towards me, I was yet unnoticed. I darted past the swings and amongst some trees, hiding inside a small hut used for the children waiting for the bus., hoping they would just walk right by. I breathed a long sigh as they did, then I saw something shimmer out of the corner of my eye.
It was her, my secret muse, coming from the tree lined path that led into the playground from the opposite side. The setting sun was playing off the sleek clothes she was wearing, causing the effect that my attention had drawn. She had on a sleek, glistening white ruffled top, and a falling wispy dark skirt that shone like wet satin and fluttered provocatively as she walked. She wasn’t alone. Her Friend “Amanda” was with her, wearing a long slinking strapless gold gown with a long sleeved short black button less satin jacket that flowed silkily along her fine model like figure.. At first I was surprised at how the pair were dressed, Than I recalled overhearing that “Amanda” was going to be maid of honor at her sister’s wedding. It must have taken place today, I figured. My eyes looked them over, savoring the spectacle. “Amanda” was wearing gold jewelry that shimmered along her figure as the pair approached the center of the playground. But my eyes were on the girl( “Maureen”) I adored from afar, now drawing closer. She was wearing the real diamond pendent given to her from her parents as a graduation gift. It was held by a long herringbone chain of gold that bounced merrily from her high breasts, presenting an added enticement to my eyes as it sparkled in a small explosion of colours. Several sparkly rings adorned the fingers of a hand I would dearly have loved to have held. She looked like a vision to me of deep desire, but instead of coming out and showing myself, I crept towards the back of the hut, where a small peephole allowed me a secret vantage point.
As they headed towards the swings I could take it no more, and with my heart a plug in my throat, totally, overwhelmed by my emotions, I had just made up my mind to show myself and talk to her, pour my soul out for her. Regardless of the taunting barbs I knew “Amanda” would direct at me. But fate stole away my chance.
As I started to rise from my crouch, the sound of a motor bike came up the street. The girls turned to look. A pair of young men in leather, no helmets , came up the street, and spying the girls, slowed down. I could only see “Amanda’s” face as she offered the two boys a very coy look. The girls turned away, and facing my direction, their backs to the pair on the motorcycle then went to the swings. Amanda stood, looking back at the motorcyclists, as “Maureen” slipped onto one of the swings.
The two leather clad boys pulled onto the playground, stopping the motorcycle a few yards from the girls, who continued to pay them no heed, although they both had coy little smirks on their heavily made up faces. The pair dismounted with urbane purpose and sauntered over to the swings. A cold feeling washed over me as I saw my opportunity slip away.
Reaching the two girls the leather clad boys came around and faced them. I could hear them greet the girls, and they turned as if just noticing the presence of the roguishly handsome youths, who appeared to be a couple of years older than myself.
They started to talk with girls, whom obviously did not mind being looked over by them. I can to this day hear the girls laughter as they were lightly teased , I could see them smile to each other, and give the pair of newcomers a blast of their well eye shadowed eyes. Jealousy reared its ugly head before me, knowing they would never have given me the same treatment.
After about 5 minutes one of the boys causally moved behind the swing and placing a hand on “Maureen’s” silken waist , and gave the girl of my dreams a gentle push forward. She smiled and kicked out her legs, her long skirt swishing out in a rather provocative manner. He continued to push her, while his friend centered his attention on “Amanda“, and was standing between her and the swinging “Maureen“, a fact that did not seem important at the time. I did observe that each time Maureen was pushed; her Partners hands travelled causally higher up her silky backside. The girls were certainly enjoying the attention.
I will admit I felt jealousy rearing its ugly head as I realized she was accepting this stranger more easily then I, I who had known her since grade school. My emotions started an inward battle, the deciding inner battles were fought, and victory declared. I decided I had had enough of my addiction to this girls allure, and had decided to sneak away and put “Maureen”, “Amanda” , the two smooth youths in leather, and the playground, to my back as soon as I could. For with my hiding spot directly in their view I was but a mouse trapped in its hole.
But it was just at that moment, when I had formed my epiphany, if that is what it can be called, that it happened. And to this day I am shamed to admit that my feelings were at that point such, I did nothing in the way of helping “Maureen”. Although sometimes the thought creeps out of the recesses of my mind that If I had, she may have seen me as a hero of sorts, and my life possibly would have been altogether different, possibly even happier.
He was slick, the leather clad youth pushing the swing, I give him credit for that. I don’t to this day believe his victim even knew what happened. As I had observed, his hands were stealing up “Maureen’s” backside as he pushed her gently, ever so gently. It was when he had reached above her shoulders that I first realized what was occurring. The first indication was that I saw her pendent rise up a few inches as he pushed her out, then again a few more when she came back into him and he pushed her away again the pendent was almost to her throat, the chain hanging long down her back. It was then that he shot a look to his partner who was teasing “Amanda” about her Long gown. Catching his eye, the youth poked “Amanda” below the arm, she giggled, leaning into him. “Maureen”, on the swing, looked over. As she did I saw her shimmery pendent move up and then slide sparkling down the front of “Maureen’s ”satin blouse, followed by the gold chain whose clasp had been flicked open . It landed in a pile on her skirt, unnoticed by anyone else by me. The silky skirt failed to hold the jewelry, and it slithered off, curling up into a heap under her feet. He moved his boot over it, concealing it.
I started to move to confront him, but that quick he bent down behind her as if adjusting his boot strap and… , keeping an eye on the girls, he scooped up the necklace and pocketed it. I sat back down, realizing the futility of the situation. But I was seething at the guy in the leather jacket. Not only for stealing something that I knew meant the world to his victim, but also for stealing my feelings for her. I don’t know if that really makes sense, but it did to me at the time.
Meanwhile “Amanda” had wrestled herself away from her teaser and fixing her hair to her friend on the swing that they should be getting back. The one standing behind the swing, with the expensive necklace in his pocket, walked over and taking his hands from his pockets, pulled them out and offered his hands to “Maureen” , who took him up on the offer and he pulled her up from the swing. Her long skirt fluttered in a fluid slinky flow, cascading to her feet. I watched, anger boiling inside, as the group walk to the path in the woods.
They stopped and talked for a few minutes. I saw “Amanda” giving what appeared to be her number to the boy her a piece of paper he had given her. Then the girls walked off. The pair of leather clad youths watched for some time, waving in the girl’s direction once, before turning and heading to their bike. As the reached it the one looked around and pulling something from his pocket showed it to the other. I thought I saw a brief sparkle, but then, I knew what it was. They both sneered, the one slapping the other on the backside for a job well done. Than quickly he placed it back into his pocket, both than casually mounted their bike, and looking the area over, kicked the engine into life with a roar and sped off in the opposite direction.
, I slowly moved out of the little hut, and reaching the far sidewalk left, turned my back on the entire situation, never once looking back, never to return to the playground until this very day.
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A young girls screech made me jump, jerking me back suddenly to the present. A group of children had invaded the playground without my being aware, so lost was I in my thoughts.
Heaving a long sigh, I turned again, leaving my past , once again , behind.
It’s funny. Thanks to a rather wealthy uncle whom no one at school knew existed, and I never divulged, I am rather wealthy now in my own right. But all my money could never repair the piece of my heart that was taken, along, with a diamond pendent, on that fateful day.
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All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
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All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
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