Post by nathaniel quinton valentine on Aug 6, 2010 8:22:58 GMT -7
--- can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky ,
( ARE LIKE SHOOTING STARS )[/center]
[/size][/font]his head craned forwards, scanning the delicate pages of the book he had randomly picked from the shelves of his room. he had felt this desire to read, and therefore he had brought himself (and his book) outside to the gardens. he had taken a position on a bench and let the reading commence.
he was uncertain of what had brought him here - more than likely the presence of peace had, had some influence in the situation. but apart from that, it appeared a casual decision. nathaniel had merely been wandering the quiet halls of the school, peering this way and that way, determined to avoid those he disliked and desperate for something to do. therefore, the outside world of the school seemed the perfect setting for his day. sunshine beamed down on the pale green of the leaves, or the soft green grass that had been flattened by excited students. the beauty of it all required his presence and therefore, he had found himself there; sitting in the gardens.
those brown eyes removed themselves from the writing on the pages and began to browse the surroundings, his facial expression showing the enjoyment in what he saw. beautiful. boices muffled behind him, but he could not make out their conversation. he was, after all, not a nosey person and it appeared impolite to listen to whatever they were talking about. nevertheless, there was always some unconscious thrill at discovering what others were talking about. whether it be secrets, gossip or general information, there always appeared to be some pathetic pleasure at listening to them. he was ashamed of himself, but it was human nature to be curious. though, they did say 'curiosity killed the cat'. he grimaced at his actions and returned to the picturesque views, trying to block out the sounds of whoever was standing a few feet behind him. it was their conversation... not his.
you probably would not understand the unquestionable want that cultivated within him. the want to be able to talk to another, to converse and actively make friends with another. for the few friends he had done, it had more-or-less been their actions that had led to some sort of affliation, rather than his own. nate remained the 'quiet boy', smiling eagerly as they spoke to him. nevertheless, the people whom he had found where quite wonderful in their own right and although he usually became awkward at the situations he landed himself in, he had found himself becoming more open with certain people - most certainly those who had a similar personality to himself. a smile graced his lips, but a sigh departed those slender lips. if only his past had been different and that he had been brought up in a house of normality, without the cruelty of his father. his hatred for him was inexpressable. for what he had done, he would never forgive him. because of him, nathaniel valentine was this shy and lonely boy, desperate for a normal life. for a life full of socialising and friendships - a usual teenage life. his lack of social development prevented that, and it was his father's doing.
