This was my entry for this year’s SWC, the prompt of which was ‘cast aside’. Special thanks to Astinus, Bay, and bobandbill for all their hardwork with the scoring, netting me 9th place out of the 21 entries. Also congrats to anon, Cutlerine, and Nemesis for placing in the top 3. I’m looking forward to reading your guys’ entries.
Anyway, this is the original story with some minor edits. I might rewrite the ending because I feel that, yeah, it was rushed and it didn’t really do the story justice, plus I’m not so happy with how I kind of lost the emotional impact of the final sentence. Regardless, here’s my experimental romantic horror story. Never written romance before so this is something new.
Had to bypass the censor for the sake of drama. Hope you guys don't mind too much.
The blinds opened a fraction, a tiny, minute fraction, just enough to let the faintest glimmers of light pass through to its shielded interior. Through the gap, a woman peered out into the harsh light of the outside world, a single, manic eye darting back and forth dangerously as she searched for an elusive something. Her strained eye with its red, pulsating veins shining unhealthily scanned her limited field of vision erratically, any semblance of order quickly proving non-existent. She hadn’t slept in days --she was too uneasy.
"Where is it? Where is it?” she thought to herself desperately. “Why isn’t it here yet!” Silent, angry, irrational tears dripped from her eyes and she gripped the blinds tightly. “It’s supposed to be here!”
Suddenly, as if in compliance with her frantic wishes, there it appeared. She blinked away the tears and leant in closer to the window. She had found it. Her eyes lingered upon the object, she went limp with overflowing emotion, and a desperate longing suffused in nostalgia. It was a man, and it had just arrived.
The ambulance flashed its red and blue lights silently and indiscriminately as a single person was loaded into a stretcher. Official reports would tell of a suicide and an autopsy would reveal malnutrition and bodily neglect to be a contributing cause, but Geoffrey himself knew the truth of what had transpired.
He watched from the pavement sadly as the EMTs shut the door and went about their job without the slightest traces of respect for the dead, blithely unaware of the emotional and physical pain Jennifer must have suffered.
“Was she a friend of yours?” asked Miss Gilligan bluntly, standing next to Geoffrey.
Geoffrey didn’t even register her sudden arrival and shook his head solemnly. “I barely knew her.”
“It sounded like you two were past lovers or something.”
“I just sell car insurance, Miss Gilligan. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
Miss Gilligan looked at him sadly. “Are you sure? You seem quite lonely.”
Geoffrey sighed to himself. “No,” he said sadly, eyeing the shining, golden band upon his ring finger, “I’m not.”