Post by Maxwell Green on Apr 19, 2007 16:44:35 GMT -5
A young girl and boy and girl strolled down the narrow pathway, the boys arm placed over her shoulders gently and protectively. Their heights were drastically different, which pointed to their short difference in ages. The boy was seventeen, almost graduated and almost legal, while the girl was only fifteen, not even unable to drive yet. They stood close by each other in a loving manner, probably giving the impression the two were a couple. But, no, that was not the case at all. In fact, the mere thought of the two being together in that sort of a sense was revolting to both of them.
The two were more than good friends; they were siblings, brother and sister to each other. They were together a lot, mostly because the other children considered them outcasts, the freaks, the strangers, the nonexistent in the student body. They were 'goth', they were 'emo', they 'worshiped Satan', they 'weren't right', they were 'weird', they were 'different', they were 'suicidal'.
... Or so that's what everyone thought; or so that's what the world around them thought.
The two were laughing and smiling, having a good time. Both looked sweet, both looked friendly and happy and cheerful. The complete opposite of the many stereotypes they were labeled. They thought little of the names they were called and the things people said about them. It didn't matter. Those people didn't know what they were talking about. They didn't care to know. So why should they care to explain?
A lit white and yellow cigarette was in between the boys index and middle finger. Sure, he was only seventeen, sure, he was killing himself slowly, sure seventeen year olds weren't allowed to smoke. But there were ways to get around that rule; oh, there were many ways, indeed.
The path was slowly becoming thinner and thinner as the bushes and shrubs and trees grew out. Not many people used this trail often, so no one bothered to cut back the thorns and leaves that got in it's way. But that was why Maxwell and Nina Green loved it so much; It was rarely used, so there was a rarity of running into people.
It was beautiful; many different colored flowers flourishing, the tall trees sprouting up from the ground and into the blue sky, shielding them from the outside world -- reality. The sun was bright in the sky, it's rays shining down between the canopies way above their heads. Shrubbery and other bushes lined the pathway, a lush, bright, fresh green color. The leaves on the trees were just beginning to change to different shades of brown and yellow and orange and red -- fall colors for the upcoming autumn season that was approaching quickly.
Their dark clothing stuck out in the greenery that surrounded them. Max was dressed in a black button down shirt that was only buttoned halfway, revealing some of his tattooed chest. One side was tucked into his black jeans, while the other stuck out over them. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, making more of his tattoos and bands around his wrists visible. Around both his wrists were black, studded bracelets, along with a black sweatband over his right wrist. Around his neck was a black choker and dog tag necklace that read 'Escape the fate'.
His pants were a pair of black jeans, with rips and tears, some up by his thighs while others were near his knees. Around his waist was a studded belt, similar to the bracelets he wore. Over his feet were black socks, along with black and white converse sneakers that were worn out and a little faded in the color. It was pretty safe to assume, by the looks of his clothing, he quite liked the color black.
Over his short fingernails was black nail polish, and under his eyes was a thin line of eyeliner, also black. Yes, both of these were under the category of 'makeup'. Yes, men were not supposed to wear make-up; that was a woman thing. That was a feminine thing. But, was there anything wrong with a man in touch with his feminine side? According to the world, yes. According to this world, this made him gay, or homosexual, or some other terrible names.
His long hair was messy and shaggy, one piece hanging over his left eye. It, too, was completely black. It had been quite a few colors in the past, but finally, he settled on black. He hadn't been able to settle on a hairstyle, however, and that changed even more frequently than the color. But, recently, it had stayed pretty much the same. He liked the way it was now. It ran right to his shoulders, and the black very well complimented his pale face and dark green eyes.
Well, screw them.
Nina's clothing was also mostly black, similar to Max's style. She had always tried to follow in her older brothers footsteps, with the exception of his smoking habits. She hated that her brother smoked. She wished he would stop, and often begged him to do so. But, so far, he hasn't given in to her. Sometimes she felt like she was bugging the heck out of him, which was definitely not what she wanted, but if it was the only way to get him to stop...
She never liked to be a bother to people. In fact, she tried for the opposite. She tried to be helpful when she could and tried not to talk much. Sometimes, though, her tries were to no avail when it came to talking. Nina liked to talk. She liked the silence, as well, and listening to others, but, being a young teenager of fifteen, she quite enjoyed speaking to others. It didn't bother her being quiet, though. She was most of the time, for she was mostly left alone. However, Sometimes she did wish for more company than her brother.
Nina tugged at the edges of her black and red striped sweater. It fit her well, though was a bit long in the arms. It covered the majority of her palm, stopping right before her index, middle, pinkie and ring fingers on both hands. She loved that sweater. It was warm and comfortable; plus, her mother had given it to her. She sighed as she thought of her, sudden feelings of sorrow washing over her.
Both Nina and Max had been very close with their mother. She was sweet and kind and caring. There wasn't a cruel or mean bone in her body, that was for sure. Even after she had divorced her husband, their father, she was still strong and kind-hearted. She was never bitter, nor unhappy toward anyone. Her death came as a shock to both of them; neither expected to lose her so quickly.
Nina managed a small smile, trying to forget. She didn't want to think such sad things on such a wonderful day. She had spent most of it with Max, since they were off from school. Neither had anything better to do, so they hung out together. It was how they spent most of their weekends; together, walking down by the lake or down the trails, or even sometimes blazing their own trail. Either way, they quite enjoyed each others company.
Her black pants hugged her legs gently. They were not ripped, like Max's, but actually looked quite nice, like new. Over her feet were black and red striped socks, to match her sweater and her converse sneakers, that were also striped in the same colors. She, too, liked black... and red, very obviously.
Over her fingernails was dark red nail polish, slightly conflicting with the bright red in her sweater. Under her eyes was red and black eyeliner, the black on top of the red. It looked rather spiffy, to Nina, at least. There was more makeup over her face, such as cover-up and foundation, but many people have told her she didn't need it -- mostly Max.
Both fell silent, their laughter and jovial chatter ceasing. The birds chirped in the distance as a cool breeze blew by, blowing both Max and Nina's hair to the side. Nina's long, black hair was up in a ponytail, since it got a bit annoying when she left it down due to it's length. Max's hair fell over his eyes, but he didn't bother to fix it at the moment. He didn't seem to care.
She stared up at her brother as they walked, sighing as she watched him put the cigarette in his mouth again and inhale. Her heart sank in her chest as a frown slowly fell over her face. "Max, I really wish you would stop smoking." She said quietly, not meaning to ruin their perfect day, but she felt the need to say something about it. She always did. She didn't want to see her brother dead by the time he was forty, or sitting in a hospital with lung cancer. The thought scared her. Max was the only one in her family she had left... well, as far as she was concerned. She didn't want to lose him. She couldn't lose him.
Max narrowed his eyes suddenly. Oh, great, here we go. He thought reluctantly. He flicked his head back to get the hair away from his face and out of his green eyes. Why was it every time they spent time together she told him this? Every. single. time. His expression became agitated. Really, he didn't want to do this right now. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and exhaled deeply. He didn't look at her, nor make any kind of eye contact with her. He couldn't -- her sweet, innocent face would make him feel terrible. "I wish you could just drop it, Nina." He said sternly, hoping not to take the conversation any further.
Nina held her gaze on his placid face. His soft, pink lips made a straight line across it, his jaw clenched tightly in annoyance. Her green eyes fell to the ground, in the opposite direction. Well, fine. She would do as she was asked, for now, anyway. She didn't want to make him feel bad. Lord knows that was the last thing she wanted, was to cause some kind of conflict between the two of them. She nodded slowly. "... As you wish, Max." She said solemnly.
Max finally turned his head to look at her, his green eyes focusing on her face. She looked white, with an even more ashen skin tone than he, like she was sickly or about to faint. She looked so much like their mother; it was unbelievable. For a while, after she died, Max had a hard time looking at Nina without thinking of their mother. Sometimes, he still did. Now was one of those times.
He swallowed hard, quickly looking away from her. He couldn't bare to feel the depression again, though it was already settling in his stomach. He felt empty and alone, even though he had his sister and best friend all in one walking right beside him. How he dreaded the feeling. His hold over Nina tightened gently.
Nina felt this, closing her eyes slowly. She didn't have to look at Max to know what he was thinking. A silence fell between them as neither said anything more. There was nothing more to say. Simply being there, together, alone, away from reality where they were able to get lost in their imaginations, was enough for both of them.
The two were more than good friends; they were siblings, brother and sister to each other. They were together a lot, mostly because the other children considered them outcasts, the freaks, the strangers, the nonexistent in the student body. They were 'goth', they were 'emo', they 'worshiped Satan', they 'weren't right', they were 'weird', they were 'different', they were 'suicidal'.
... Or so that's what everyone thought; or so that's what the world around them thought.
The two were laughing and smiling, having a good time. Both looked sweet, both looked friendly and happy and cheerful. The complete opposite of the many stereotypes they were labeled. They thought little of the names they were called and the things people said about them. It didn't matter. Those people didn't know what they were talking about. They didn't care to know. So why should they care to explain?
A lit white and yellow cigarette was in between the boys index and middle finger. Sure, he was only seventeen, sure, he was killing himself slowly, sure seventeen year olds weren't allowed to smoke. But there were ways to get around that rule; oh, there were many ways, indeed.
The path was slowly becoming thinner and thinner as the bushes and shrubs and trees grew out. Not many people used this trail often, so no one bothered to cut back the thorns and leaves that got in it's way. But that was why Maxwell and Nina Green loved it so much; It was rarely used, so there was a rarity of running into people.
It was beautiful; many different colored flowers flourishing, the tall trees sprouting up from the ground and into the blue sky, shielding them from the outside world -- reality. The sun was bright in the sky, it's rays shining down between the canopies way above their heads. Shrubbery and other bushes lined the pathway, a lush, bright, fresh green color. The leaves on the trees were just beginning to change to different shades of brown and yellow and orange and red -- fall colors for the upcoming autumn season that was approaching quickly.
Their dark clothing stuck out in the greenery that surrounded them. Max was dressed in a black button down shirt that was only buttoned halfway, revealing some of his tattooed chest. One side was tucked into his black jeans, while the other stuck out over them. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, making more of his tattoos and bands around his wrists visible. Around both his wrists were black, studded bracelets, along with a black sweatband over his right wrist. Around his neck was a black choker and dog tag necklace that read 'Escape the fate'.
His pants were a pair of black jeans, with rips and tears, some up by his thighs while others were near his knees. Around his waist was a studded belt, similar to the bracelets he wore. Over his feet were black socks, along with black and white converse sneakers that were worn out and a little faded in the color. It was pretty safe to assume, by the looks of his clothing, he quite liked the color black.
Over his short fingernails was black nail polish, and under his eyes was a thin line of eyeliner, also black. Yes, both of these were under the category of 'makeup'. Yes, men were not supposed to wear make-up; that was a woman thing. That was a feminine thing. But, was there anything wrong with a man in touch with his feminine side? According to the world, yes. According to this world, this made him gay, or homosexual, or some other terrible names.
His long hair was messy and shaggy, one piece hanging over his left eye. It, too, was completely black. It had been quite a few colors in the past, but finally, he settled on black. He hadn't been able to settle on a hairstyle, however, and that changed even more frequently than the color. But, recently, it had stayed pretty much the same. He liked the way it was now. It ran right to his shoulders, and the black very well complimented his pale face and dark green eyes.
Well, screw them.
Nina's clothing was also mostly black, similar to Max's style. She had always tried to follow in her older brothers footsteps, with the exception of his smoking habits. She hated that her brother smoked. She wished he would stop, and often begged him to do so. But, so far, he hasn't given in to her. Sometimes she felt like she was bugging the heck out of him, which was definitely not what she wanted, but if it was the only way to get him to stop...
She never liked to be a bother to people. In fact, she tried for the opposite. She tried to be helpful when she could and tried not to talk much. Sometimes, though, her tries were to no avail when it came to talking. Nina liked to talk. She liked the silence, as well, and listening to others, but, being a young teenager of fifteen, she quite enjoyed speaking to others. It didn't bother her being quiet, though. She was most of the time, for she was mostly left alone. However, Sometimes she did wish for more company than her brother.
Nina tugged at the edges of her black and red striped sweater. It fit her well, though was a bit long in the arms. It covered the majority of her palm, stopping right before her index, middle, pinkie and ring fingers on both hands. She loved that sweater. It was warm and comfortable; plus, her mother had given it to her. She sighed as she thought of her, sudden feelings of sorrow washing over her.
Both Nina and Max had been very close with their mother. She was sweet and kind and caring. There wasn't a cruel or mean bone in her body, that was for sure. Even after she had divorced her husband, their father, she was still strong and kind-hearted. She was never bitter, nor unhappy toward anyone. Her death came as a shock to both of them; neither expected to lose her so quickly.
Nina managed a small smile, trying to forget. She didn't want to think such sad things on such a wonderful day. She had spent most of it with Max, since they were off from school. Neither had anything better to do, so they hung out together. It was how they spent most of their weekends; together, walking down by the lake or down the trails, or even sometimes blazing their own trail. Either way, they quite enjoyed each others company.
Her black pants hugged her legs gently. They were not ripped, like Max's, but actually looked quite nice, like new. Over her feet were black and red striped socks, to match her sweater and her converse sneakers, that were also striped in the same colors. She, too, liked black... and red, very obviously.
Over her fingernails was dark red nail polish, slightly conflicting with the bright red in her sweater. Under her eyes was red and black eyeliner, the black on top of the red. It looked rather spiffy, to Nina, at least. There was more makeup over her face, such as cover-up and foundation, but many people have told her she didn't need it -- mostly Max.
Both fell silent, their laughter and jovial chatter ceasing. The birds chirped in the distance as a cool breeze blew by, blowing both Max and Nina's hair to the side. Nina's long, black hair was up in a ponytail, since it got a bit annoying when she left it down due to it's length. Max's hair fell over his eyes, but he didn't bother to fix it at the moment. He didn't seem to care.
She stared up at her brother as they walked, sighing as she watched him put the cigarette in his mouth again and inhale. Her heart sank in her chest as a frown slowly fell over her face. "Max, I really wish you would stop smoking." She said quietly, not meaning to ruin their perfect day, but she felt the need to say something about it. She always did. She didn't want to see her brother dead by the time he was forty, or sitting in a hospital with lung cancer. The thought scared her. Max was the only one in her family she had left... well, as far as she was concerned. She didn't want to lose him. She couldn't lose him.
Max narrowed his eyes suddenly. Oh, great, here we go. He thought reluctantly. He flicked his head back to get the hair away from his face and out of his green eyes. Why was it every time they spent time together she told him this? Every. single. time. His expression became agitated. Really, he didn't want to do this right now. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and exhaled deeply. He didn't look at her, nor make any kind of eye contact with her. He couldn't -- her sweet, innocent face would make him feel terrible. "I wish you could just drop it, Nina." He said sternly, hoping not to take the conversation any further.
Nina held her gaze on his placid face. His soft, pink lips made a straight line across it, his jaw clenched tightly in annoyance. Her green eyes fell to the ground, in the opposite direction. Well, fine. She would do as she was asked, for now, anyway. She didn't want to make him feel bad. Lord knows that was the last thing she wanted, was to cause some kind of conflict between the two of them. She nodded slowly. "... As you wish, Max." She said solemnly.
Max finally turned his head to look at her, his green eyes focusing on her face. She looked white, with an even more ashen skin tone than he, like she was sickly or about to faint. She looked so much like their mother; it was unbelievable. For a while, after she died, Max had a hard time looking at Nina without thinking of their mother. Sometimes, he still did. Now was one of those times.
He swallowed hard, quickly looking away from her. He couldn't bare to feel the depression again, though it was already settling in his stomach. He felt empty and alone, even though he had his sister and best friend all in one walking right beside him. How he dreaded the feeling. His hold over Nina tightened gently.
Nina felt this, closing her eyes slowly. She didn't have to look at Max to know what he was thinking. A silence fell between them as neither said anything more. There was nothing more to say. Simply being there, together, alone, away from reality where they were able to get lost in their imaginations, was enough for both of them.
