Thoughts Untold

A short story.


                His arms slip around her waist. She didn’t have the energy to shake them off. Nor having the courage to say whatever is on her mind. For there was a growing fear - that has been within her since her time began – that has been stopping her. It has been stopping her more often these days especially when she was with him.
It feels like an imprisonment, she thought, however gentle the imprisonment is.  
He rests his chin on her head, drawing her a bit closer to himself. The smell of her hair makes him feel a bit lightheaded.
Almost as lightheaded as meth, he thought only without the chemical like smell.
He sniffs her hair, smiling a bit as memories of grandmothers and strawberry fields starts to enter his mind. Not noticing the way her shoulders haunch up, her body growing as rigid as a boulder among the frigid sea.
I have to tell him, it wouldn’t be fair if he found out the hard way… if he lived that long. The sudden truth of his announcement came rushing back up to her. Causing her body to grow slack, as tears start to make their way up to her dry eyes. At least this time around, he noticed the sudden change in the way she holds her body.
“What’s wrong?” he asks in a quivering voice, reminding her of his five-year-old self.
Now’s the chance to tell him what’s really going on in my life, she thinks to herself. And as she opens her mouth just to do just that. He suddenly flinches as if he has suddenly been hit by his abusive alcohol-addicted father. Now it was her turn to ask him what was wrong.
“Nothing,” he says quickly trying to smile only having it turn into a grimace. She looks up into his childlike silver eyes, a worry creeping into her practical green ones. He sighs, his sickly thin frame almost tired from the effort.
“It’s…” he trails off a bit worried from how she’ll react.
It’s obviously not nothing, she thinks refraining her mouth from saying those words out loud. Instead, she continued staring up at him, giving him the confidence to continue on.
“It’s just... a memory attack, I-I guess you can say,” quickly averting his eyes to stare at something else.
“I’m sorry,” she says in a genuinely sincere voice filled with a hint of her sadness and fear that she has been feeling for the past few days. A part of her hoping he’ll hear it and comment on it.
“It’s okay, it wasn’t really anything,” he says though both of them knowing that it’s a lie. But that seemed a bit too much for her, causing tears - that were willing to be shed since he first told her that news just a couple of days ago at this time exactly – to fall over her dry eyes and land with an inaudible plink onto his arm. He gently wiped her eyes away as words start to pack into his brain willing to be said out loud. 


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