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Damien: A Fictional Narrative

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Damien stared at the anticipating darkness that waited for him beyond the driveway. Sobs racked his thin body, making him shake as he hunched over the steering wheel of the old car. He tried to calm himself but failed, instead continuing to cry out into the quiet summer night. No one heard him, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted anyone to. He straightened himself, fumbling for the keys. After inserting the keys into the ignition, he listened to the truck's engine come alive. He sat there, trying to reassure himself before slowly pressing down on the gas and pulling on the road. Accelerating along the empty road, Damien didn't even bother putting on the radio. He considered putting in one of Corey's mix tapes but he decided on the sound of …show more content…

"I've always been waiting." Damien sat back, smiling as he watched the story was blossoming, both on paper and in real life. He hoped that if this boy, if he did love Allie would win her over. He really did. Eventually, the two sitting across the cafe left and Damien, even though in a room filled with people, felt alone once again. He felt when he wrote about people, they became familiar, and close. Even if he never once exchanged a single word with him, he knew them. He decided he'd get up to get himself a pastry, digging through the pocket of his jean pockets, hoping that he could scrape enough change to afford one that is. Approaching the girl at the cashier, who he knew by the name of Violet. She was a plump teenage girl, maybe a year or two older then him. She had hair similar to her name, a dark purple mane that she somehow had pulled back into a ponytail. Even though her skin was a warm copper, she seemed cold to most who entered the small cafe, but Damien saw past the bitterness that she seemed to radiate and came to appreciate her humor. "Can I have a chocolate croissant …show more content…

"Well I'm talking to you... " Damien trailed off, gripping the pen in his pocket of his jeans Violet shrugged, her eyes, the colour of crushed coffee grinds, look bored as she looks beyond the windows of the cafe, to the streets where people and cars alike hurried along. Violet always seemed to be looking beyond where she already was, as if she was dreaming of escaping the doors of the cafe and into the world where there was things that were far more exciting then hushed conversations and the aroma of coffee. Damien stifled a small smile before heading back to his spot in the corner, where his only companion was his notebook. His warm, rich croissant now a distant memory he begins to write once more. At first he's slow, pausing, reassuring himself of each word he printed but as the minutes past he fell into a haze. Hanggliding, swooping as he tried to filter his thoughts into the ink before they fell out onto the page itself. It was only when he heard the metallic ring of the bell from the cafe door opening. His hazel eyes widening at who entered.
A girl, who he did not quite yet know, but would inevitably never

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