www.storymania.com
Storymania Logo

 

 

Non-Fiction




Should You Go To College? by Randall Barfield Decisions confront us at every step in life. [503 words]
Making Moves: Another Look At Victims And Choices In Ann Rule's True Crime Stories by Randall Barfield Ann Rule gives the murderers... [9,916 words]
The Godless Home(Life) by Randall Barfield Basically, this is written from experience. [661 words]
What I Like About You by E Daugherty What Im looking for in a partner... [371 words]
On Health Matters Including Diets by Higgins A fourteen point plan is offered which may lead to. health improvement. [727 words]
What Happens All The Time by Lucy Midnight This is kind of a teens point of view. [530 words]
To My Dad's Many Fans. Doc by Jason Taylor The Bloodman A tribute to my late Father, one of the best writers Storymania has read in years. [93 words]
My Dad's Top Five by Jason Taylor The Bloodman A compilation of my Dad's five best stories. [244 words]
A Passionate Recipe For Communication by Shelley Alongi Read a story about how one deaf man and one blind woman got together with... [1,847 words]
Those Presentation Jitters by Shelley Alongi The next time you think you're nervous about a speech, read this account of a presen... [2,325 words]
Puppets In Hands... by Men Walkalone Slow groove of interesting reality show described nowadays. [61 words]
From Kenya, With Love by Skyler Drevan True story. [1,644 words]
Things To Know About Girls by J P Weathers An article telling a little about the mind of the common high school girl. [720 words]
The Angel Of Death by Robert Guskind This is creative non-fiction relating to my travels in Europe. It is part of a much larger b... [1,290 words]
Flight Number 4: The Human Quality by Shelley Alongi January 13, 2004, the date for Shelley's flight number 4. This flight will ... [2,663 words]
To All My Favorite Writers; You Know Who You Are by David B Doc Byron Update on my college placement tests. [412 words]
One Pilot's Magic: A Review Of Fate Is The Hunter by Shelley Alongi In 1961, Ernest K. Gann wrote a book about flying: one of man... [383 words]
An Unhappy New Year by Dulcy Obrochta Non-fiction story of a couple torn between doing what's right and what's in their hearts. [237 words]
To ''C'' From Doc by David B Doc Byron A personal rebuttal to a nasty review. [434 words]
Toastmasters Speech Number 9: Our Most Important Document by Shelley Alongi In October, 2003, I gave speech number 9. It was abo... [889 words]
Toastmaster Speech 10: You Never Know by Shelley Alongi This was the last speech required for completion of the certification pro... [1,280 words]
The Story Of Dan by Skyler Drevan - [2,036 words]
North Star Notes by Shelley Alongi As a result of flight number three, I picked up a book that the pilot recommended to me. It's... [1,194 words]
Shame Or Protection by Skyler Drevan You be the judge. [985 words]
Coming Home: Flight Three by Shelley Alongi This is the third instalment of Shelley's adventures in flight! Improving communicati... [2,354 words]
Christianity by Skyler Drevan - [113 words]
What Are We There For by Zorg - [841 words]
The Boneyard by David B Doc Byron - [476 words]
Quotable Quotes by David B Doc Byron - [76 words]
Coming To America In The 21st Century by Destiny When I 1st left my 3rd worldd island home I had to start a new life in Am... [1,339 words]
Six Speeches To Success by Shelley Alongi In January, 2003 I joined toastmasters and will complete my first certification by Nove... [4,162 words]
Nick
Music In My Pink Room by GutierrezJ A personal reflection about a girl and how muic and her mother affected her young life. [1,443 words]
I've Been Having These Dreams About You... by Skyler Drevan Something I wrote about a former boyfriend of mine. I really don't k... [243 words]
Getting High On Nature... Up In The Kumaons by Ananya Rohini I have been to Nainital and some places around it a number of times... [1,824 words]
From Tears To Hope by GrahamCP A story about my struggle with depression and anorexia after my husband of 20 years left me ... [30,242 words]
An Enlightening Journey Through Time by Ananya Rohini I have the privilege of sharing my experience (after the last one being of... [1,944 words]
Life's A Ditch by Emily S This was a narrative assignment I wrote for my composition class this year... Unfortunately, it'... [2,061 words]
Kids Are Not Meant To Be Adults by Veronica R Ewing I actually wasn't sure which category to put this under, since it is non-fictio... [2,191 words]
Honestly by Emily S It's not what you think. [12 words]
Final Farewell by Emily S I wrote this on my very last day of school, for my final theme assignment in composition. I was ... [2,051 words]
When Straight Guys Go Gay by Skyler Drevan This is a real life account of a guy my friends and I met online who had questions ab... [2,810 words]
H.P. Lovecraft; True Master Of Horror Fiction by David B Doc Byron My perosnal opinion of H.P. Lovecraft's works. [401 words]
Sickness by Men Walkalone Dialogs/monologs of empty people sitting by themselves in front of the mirror of their trapping life. [71 words]
The Tinman Syndrome by Kurt Fondriest A story of support for men who are challenged by Fibromyalgia daily. [7,329 words]
My Favorite Eisenhower Moments: Reminiscences From Crusade In Europe by Shelley Alongi In January, 2000, I read Gen. Dwight D. Ei... [1,160 words]
A Monster Of Monsters by Randall Barfield Why did we ever let him get this far? [208 words]
Stepmothers by Hanan Al Kindi About my stepmother. [1,144 words]
Islamic Metalwork by Norman A Rubin The History and background to metalwork in the Muslim world. [2,193 words]
Mr Randy Sez by Randall Barfield Expressed thoughts, musings, comments, etc. on whatever I please. [5,598 words]
On A Dad's Turning 80 by Randall Barfield Some want to get there, others couldn't care less. How much is choice? [390 words]
Ancient Egypt by Christina Aspears About Ancient Egypt and Egypt as it is today. [1,901 words]
A Troubled Nation In Need Of Prayer And Soul-Searching: How To Repair It by Randall Barfield Send you suggestions/contributions in ... [89 words]
The Word Is In The Law by Norman A Rubin The law is the word even our sexual life. [1,365 words]
No More Stalling: Shellbell's Flight Adventure Number 2 by Shelley Alongi Six months after my first flight in a C172 Skyhawk, I a... [2,049 words]
No More Stalling: Part II by Shelley Alongi In the passion of recounting my Cessna adventure, I left out some ideas you might fin... [1,829 words]
Death The Intruder by Norman A Rubin The rule of Father Death in the time of the Great famine in the Renaissance period. [1,688 words]
Hi Mr Willis, Can You Explain What Wrong I Did? by Randall Barfield Teaching school is always give and take. Will it ever be diffe... [462 words]
Growing Up Among Racists by Randall Barfield A look at some of us in retrospect. [635 words]
Shellbell's Flight Adventure by Shelley Alongi I've been publishing stories here with an aviation theme so I thought you might en... [1,797 words]
Greetings From... Asbury Park? by Don Everett Pearce A non-fiction short story about a trip to Asbury Park. [2,025 words]
Boston Or Bust by Joseph Patrick McGrath McGrath This details a trip home from college where everything went wrong. The trip was from Buffalo to... [5,115 words]
Leonardo Da Vinci, Science And Engineer by Norman A Rubin Leonardo da Vinci was known as a 'Renaissance Man' - a man who sought t... [2,112 words]

Go to page: 1 2 3 [4] 5
TITLE (EDIT)
Nick
DESCRIPTION
A short story about young first love written in a young girls perspective.
[1,063 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Relationships
AUTHOR
GutierrezJ
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
-
[March 2001]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (3)
Blood Sister's (Short Stories) - [1,473 words] [Relationships]
Music In My Pink Room (Non-Fiction) A personal reflection about a girl and how muic and her mother affected her young life. [1,443 words] [Relationships]
The Voice Of Melodi (Short Stories) - [2,641 words] [Mystical]
Nick
GutierrezJ

It was a hot and humid summer, and as usual, it was loud. Even at night the super’s kids were playing in the courtyard in front of my apartment building and cars were rolling by all night with loud, banging dance music blaring. The fan was always set up on my windowsill blowing hot air around in my small, pink bedroom. Nick and I would just sit there in the sweat listening to old Police tapes. I was always on my small twin bed, sitting up with my legs crossed, pillow in my lap, gazing out at him across from me.

He was skinny, scrawny, with a sunken in chest, scars on his face, and pimples on his cheeks. He had a funny shaped nose that tilted a bit to one side, and he had a flat butt, but more importantly than that, he had a great big beautiful smile and immense brown eyes that sparkled when he smiled-those eyes sang to me. I cherished him for those eyes. His hair was pitch black, shiny and smooth. He wore it down to his ears, enough for me to run my fingers through it. I loved touching his hair when he would lay his head in my lap, and he never stopped me, I could feel he wanted to be touched; I imagined that no one ever touched him like that before. He had delicate, soft hands, and long fingers,I always thought they were made to play the piano. They were perfectly shaped, and pointed, all the right size length. His touch was gentle; his hands were yielding, and fragile. They were like a child’s hands, innocent, clean and soft.
He had this great big happy laugh; like he enjoyed laughing-he needed to laugh. And he had this never-ending ability to always get me to laugh until I could not breathe. He was witty, bitter and sarcastic, having a smart-ass answer for everything and a joke for every occasion so he would not have to be himself, or real. He hated his family and his past but he laughed at everything and everyone laughed with him.

The way he walked was comical, like he was trying to be cool like James Dean, swaggering down the street with a Newport hanging out of his mouth. He moved and looked like a rock star, with his torn jeans, his white t-shirts, and his mc boots- clumsily yet anxiously standing aloof and arrogant. His clothes always had stains or holes in them, like he bought them in bulk like that, but they always smelled good, like Downy fabric softener. His skin was supple and always smelled clean, like a mixture of Irish Spring and Jean Nate. I remember the time when I figured out he wore that cologne. My friends laughed, “that’s for girls!” but I loved it and bought a bottle so I could smell like him.

He sang to me in this room full of heat. He would sit across from me, or stand up right in front of me and he would use my hairbrush as a mic and he would sing. It was just us sitting there, and everything was just right. His hearty laughter and his caring eyes closed softly as he sang- it was all I needed. I waited every night for him to come over, even when he said he wasn’t coming over. I would sit by my window and listen for his whistle to me. I would run to ring him in and then he would run up the stairs, grab me, give me a big long kiss, and take his seat in my room, it was magical. He sat backwards, as always, in my broken wooden chair- singing to me. These nights nothing else existed, not even the noise outside my window.

One night, while this song was playing, “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” by the Police, he came from behind me without a word and I could feel him reaching out to touch my neck with his hands. He held me near him as his hands fell softly down my neck onto my shoulders and grabbing my arms, he reached down to grasp onto my hands. He delicately folded them into his hands, bringing me closer and closer to him, without a word. His hands told me what his fumbling words never could and this song told me that everything I did was magic to him.

The summer was over sooner than I had hoped. The weather started to get cold and bitter outside and so did he. Eventually he left me. I needed to feel like things were still perfect, and I could not let him go, so we snuck around to meet in the park, or at his music studio where we made love next to his drum set. And on his lunch breaks from work, we would sit on the wall by East 55th street and stare out onto the river. I was so afraid to put my legs over the wall and he would always look into my eyes and tell me

“I will never let you fall, I got ya” while he rubbed and kissed my feet, telling me how beautiful they were. I am not sure whom I was hiding from; I never understood why we lied. I never knew why he would hold my hand coming home on the number 1 train, telling me
“I will always be a part of your life” yet he was not a part of my life anymore. I had to share him with another life he had. I was learning only to long for seeing him, hating him for leaving me at the train station when it was time to go home. I got used the times where he had to walk away, and how my heart felt as if it were on fire and would melt right where I stood. I just wanted to run after him and take him away with me, to my room, to the summer nights when he began to sing to me. I never did run after him. I eventually let him get off on his stop without me, without that one last kiss, without looking back to see his face. It ended that one day I just stopped looking back.




      
      

 

Submit Your Review for Nick
Required fields are marked with (*).
Your e-mail address will not be displayed.

Your Name*     E-mail*

City     State/Province     Country

Your Review (please be constructive!)*


Please Enter Code*:

Submit Your Rating for Nick

Worst     1     2     3     4     5     6     7     8     9     10     Best

COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2000 GutierrezJ
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
September 2003
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1368
 

Copyright © 1998-2001 Storymania Technologies Limited. All Rights Reserved.