SO I'm starting to get back into writing again, so decided I should get my own thread here.
I'm mostly going to post short stories here, and they may be connected they may not.

Feel free to read and critique for me and tell me what I could improve on!

Links to Story Posts:
-The Line
-It's a Sport
-Your Life Wasn't Pointless
-The Window Flower
-The Majority

The Line

I can’t remember exactly where she came from.

It was almost like she appeared out of nowhere one day.

I had recently hit the bottom of depression.

I hated my job, my boss had been overloading me with work so I barely had time for myself, my father had recently died of cancer and my mother had become estranged and it was getting harder to make ends meet. The topping on the cake was the woman that I had thought was the one had walked out on me hand in hand with the man she’d been seeing quite regularly for the past 5 months of our 15 month ‘romance’. I had actually been looking to find the perfect ring on that day too.

I barely ate, and hours that weren’t spent trying to keep my miserable job were spent lying in bed persuading myself that these feelings of hate for myself were actually able to be considered as a substitute for the sleep that I could never seem to find enough of.

I made the mistake that so many of us make in trying to cure myself with alcohol. I can’t really remember much, except for one night I had gone out walking and I’m pretty sure I had stopped and crouched down when I became overcome with a flow of emotion that flowed into an seemingly endless tears.

I’m guessing that’s when she found me.

The next thing I remember after that was waking up in my bed to the smell of bacon.

With no recollection conclusion to draw the correct conclusion, I figured that I had found someone to spend the night with. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Though they usually left earlier than this, and they usually didn’t cook anything.

She had cooked bacon and eggs and she was beautiful.

It might have been the hang-over, but she looked more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.

With a smile that shone she set my breakfast-lunch down on my bed with a cup of water and tablets.

For some reason it didn’t even cross my mind to question why she was here in the first place.

For the next year she stayed with me.

She stayed in my little apartment with me to make sure I didn’t drink a stupid amount of alcohol again. She cooked me breakfast and dinner, and packed a lunch for me to take to work and texted me to remind me to eat it. After a little while she said I should quit my awful job and promptly helped me find a new one so I could pay the bills. Whenever I was free she would plan fun activities for us to do, whether it was bowling or trying out a new restaurant. It was fun, and I slowly lost the numb feeling that I had gained.

She always there for me to talk to about anything that was on my mind. Many nights were spent with me crying and her holding me close until I either felt better or had fallen asleep. She then continued to hold me and we stayed like that until we couldn’t possibly anymore due to numb limbs or hungry stomachs.

It was such a comfortable year for me, and I felt better than I could ever remember, even with my ex. I improved so much. She taught me how to cook proper meals, and I remembered to eat without her constant reminder and I loved my new job so much I wondered how I ever managed to stay in my old one for so long and I was finally sleeping again. I woke up well rested and ready to face the day, instead of just time passing and taking hours to convince my body it had the ability to move.

For the first time in a long time I was glad to be alive.

She must have seen this, because one morning I woke up to her gone.

There was a note on the table and a day’s worth of meals wrapped in the fridge and the apartment had been cleaned and my clothes had been washed and folded and all her things were gone.

The note didn’t say much; except that there was food to eat and that she wished me the best and all the good in the world.

The only thought I had was how I never said thank you enough to her and yet she was the one that deserved all the good in the world and more.

I wasn’t as sad as you think I would’ve been with her leaving. For the first day I felt awful, I’m guessing she knew I would be like that which is why she left the food, but afterwards I still felt alright. I started to make new friends from work and we started hanging out together often. I remembered to eat. I remembered to so much I had to start exercising seriously again in order to stay in shape.

Life was still good, and I was still glad to be alive.

I often wonder exactly why it was that she stayed with me. I always constantly hope that she hit the jackpot in her life, and I think she did because I saw her smiling at the train station once. I would recognise that smile anywhere for the rest of my life. She was holding the hand of an equally beautiful woman and they were smiling and laughing together. I had wanted to race over there and thank her for everything she had done for me, but I had a train to catch and they were rushing to catch theirs, and it didn’t feel right to say thank you in such undesirable circumstances.

After that day I composed a letter. One that I carried on my person constantly, so if I happened to see her again, I would give it to her so that in her own time she would be able to read just how much her kindness meant to me.

More months passed and I realised that even though we had spent a year together, I barely knew anything about her. She knew my entire life's story, but I can’t recall her ever telling me even a tiny bit of hers. Even so I didn’t need that. I never needed it, it wasn’t important.

I don’t tell many people about her because they all say the same thing. That she was probably some hussy that just wanted to use me and what I had and that I should’ve been more careful. But I know that’s not true. After all, if it was money she needed she wouldn’t have stuck with someone like me. I’m also fairly certain she somehow managed to help pay of some of my bills at the very start and during my search for a new job, since I had less trouble with them than I should have. I also definitely didn’t pay for all the times we went out either, or for a large majority of the food that magically appeared in my fridge.

That line of thinking always draws me back to the question of why she did it.

I didn’t think I would ever get my answer, but 18 months later I did.

I was waiting for my bus when I heard a whimper coming from the park nearby. Curious I searched it out to find a man curled behind some bushes silently crying his eyes out. He had a few bottles of alcohol nearby and the almost invisible cuts on his arms spoke words to me.

I’d been here before.

And as I looked upon this scene something came to me.

I imagined her finding me in a state like this and then after a few question taking me home, though that might have been a memory. I remembered how she had looked after me.

And then I imagined her in a similar state to how I was. Sobbing in the streets of a broken heart and feeling like there was no good in the world, and then someone seeing her and taking pity on her and doing the same things she did with me.

And I continued to imagine a string of strangers all finding each other in desperate situations after being saved from something similar themselves.

I remembered her knowing smile the nights I cried my pain to her, as if she’d been there before and I realised that I was part of a line.

A line of strangers helping strangers who all weren’t strangers in their misery and as a partner of this anonymous group, I realised that it was my turn to pass it on.

It was my turn to pay for the time she gave me with my own time.

I briefly wondered if she had discovered it like this herself. If the person who helped her had left suddenly with only a note and food left, or if the person had told her or just left a note and leaving food was something she was passing on to me.

I took a few slow steps towards the stranger full of determination and full to the brim of faith in human compassion.

As I reached him I knelt down and put my arm on his shoulder, and he turned and looked at me with puffy dazed eyes, probably not really seeing me.

“My name’s Henry. What’s your name?”

He mumbled out something that sounded Joshua and I nodded.

“Do you have a place to stay Joshua?”

He thought for a moment and started sobbing a little harder so I took it as a no.

“Would you like to stay at place? I have a spare sofa and you can stay there as long as you need.”

He nodded and I helped him up and tried to hurry with him to my bus that just arrived.

Really it was a careless act of all of us to let strangers close to us like that, for both the helper and the helped, but sometimes if you just assume the worst in everyone, that’s all you’re going to find in the world. Sometimes the way to recovery is taking a chance which could screw you over if it goes wrong, even if it’s just getting a haircut or decided that you are more important than the people who are hurting you.

But I will for ever be thankful for the fact I let that woman help me.

And I hope that Joshua will let me do the same.

“It’s totally a sport.”
“No it’s not.”
“I’m telling you it is.” Jeffrey grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Samuel who sighed, rolled his eyes and looked away.
“And I’m telling you that ‘kissing’ is not a sport.” Samuel said definitively.
“Have you seen some of the crazy stuff they do man? Kissing under water, attempting daily tasks while kissing.” Jeffrey listed the reasons on his fingers.
“It’s still not a sport Jeff. They’re just idiots.” Jeffrey snorted at this. “Why are you so obsessed with kissing lately anyway, not getting enough from your girlfriend?”
“I think it’s weird that your 16 and not obsessed with kissing Samuel. And don’t mock me, my lack of a partner hurts me deeply.” Jeffrey wiped an invisible tear from his eye and sniffled.
“That’s because I’m focusing on actual sport.” Samuel accented this by loudly shoving his sweaty sports clothes into his bag. They had stayed back at school for tennis practise (Jeffrey had tried to avoid it viciously yelling "ITS A FRIDAY NIGHT I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING BUT PART!" obviously it didn't go down with the coach and he was forced to stay) and were only just heading home.

They left the courts and opted for the more scenic route that took them through a park. If they hadn’t already stayed back late enough, they probably would have dropped their bags and played on the swing set and slide because in reality you’re never too old to do that no matter what the adults said. It wasn't just the lateness that made them stop, it was also the fact that a young couple were attempting to what seemed to be, eat each other's face off. Samuel looked on horrified while Jeffrey sighed in jealously.

“Okay, maybe it is a sport. But it's definitely a disgusting sport.”

After being blinded by a light I saw a man standing in front of me with a sympathetic smile on his face. Well, I don’t think he was an ordinary man because he had wings. He must have been an angel.
“Hi! Welcome to heaven!” He said in a cheery voice. My memory was foggy and I couldn’t remember anything but I did remember that I think that meant I might be dead. “Well, the gates of Heaven, you’re just outside them but for all intensive purpose welcome to Heaven.”
“Heaven?” I asked, the words felt foreign and my mouth moved sluggishly as it formed them and I wonder if I’ve ever said that word before or said anything before. I feel as though I would have brought a hand up to touch my lips at the strange sensation, but I couldn’t remember I actually had hands to do that.
“Ah yes.” The angel crossed his arms and his brows furrowed a little. “We have to do that don’t we?” I tilted my head in confusion. “I mean, you know, the whole seeing your life before your eyes thing?” I continued to stare at him until he gave up with a sigh. A screen appeared behind him and he turned around and pressed some buttons. “Just, do me a favour and watch this.” He took a step back so he was next to me and I watch as the screen flashed to life and an image of a hospital room appeared. A mother was holding a small baby and everyone had smiles and a man was crying in celebration. “That’s you.” The angel cut in and my eyes widened in wonder, and I realised that as I watched the scene I could remember this from my point of view. How could I have forgotten?

The screen played me saying my first words, taking my first steps and petting my family’s pet cat. It showed me growing older and going to school. It showed me playing hairdressers with my friend and her actually cutting my hair. It showed me winning award after award, it showed me playing by myself and it showed me finding out my brother wet my bed. It showed me going into high school. It showed me swapping books for art. It showed my bad teachers it showed me starting to struggle. It showed my introduction to the internet. It showed me making friends, it showed me losing friends, it showed my mother losing my father and her crying on my shoulder and he walked out of the gate and out of her life. It showed me growing to hate my father and his apartment and it showed him doing nothing to help me. It showed me getting worse in school and it showed me spiralling down into a suffocating depression that I tried to keep hidden. It showed me leaving church and staring out the window dejectedly. It showed me biting and clawing at my skin until I took a knife to it. It showed me crying alone and quietly. It showed me hiding my scars and touching them when I got nervous. As it showed me this I remember feeling each feeling and I felt like I was feeling everything at once and could barely stop myself from crying at the unfortunateness of it all.

The screen continued to show my life. It showed my rekindled passion for both drawing and books, it showed me reaching out for help and the abyss of helplessness and seeing councillors and psychiatrists. It showed me deciding to become an actor. It showed me stumble and fall but still trying to walk away from the darkness I felt. It showed the result of my effort. It showed me smiling more, it showed me succeeding more and it showed me graduating with full marks and more awards. It showed me working as I saved up money to move. It showed me move. It showed me meeting a handsome young man and after spending up weeks and months piling up the courage to finally ask him out on a date and him chuckling and saying yes. It showed us going out once and it showed us planning another date. It showed me walking down a path by a busy street. It showed a mother screaming. It showed a child running out onto the street. It showed a truck heading towards the child. It showed how the child was close to me. It showed me jumping front of the truck and pulling the child away. It showed me not being able to get out of the way in time. It showed a pool of blood and shrill screams and tears and a swarming group of people. It showed the mother crying as she cuddled her child who was safe and it showed her face contorting with fighting the feeling of relief while I was there dying in a pool of my own blood. It showed people dialling the emergency services and then it faded to black.

I cried. I all but collapsed on the floor and cried. The angel looked at me silently as I heaved with tears streaming down my face. I cried for all the lost potential. I cried for that fact I would never attend that second date. I cried because my life was starting to finally pick itself of its feet and I would never be able to reach my dreams. After what seemed like an eternity of crying, the angel decided to pipe in.
“You know it’s not all bad.” I glared at him with blood shot eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Well, you see, things still happen after your death.” My glare turned to a sharp look of confusion. “Well, you did save that little girl.” I hadn’t realised the child was a girl. “And she grows up thanks to your sacrifice. And her mother decides to start a charity. She actually decides to call it after your name. It’s to help families who have been affected by road accidents.”
“What about my family?” I ask bitterly. And he frowns as he thinks.
“Well, of course they’re all devastated. Especially your mother. It hits her the hardest. However your brothers snap out of their lousy states and decide to grow up and throw that ridiculous sentiment of hanging themselves at 30 out the window. Your dad finally pays your mother what he owes her as well.”
“And what good happens to my mother?” I ask.
“Well, nothing that your death affected really. It’s more of a challenge for her, and she survives it, just like her mother. She becomes the principal of a school and kicks it in order, and her results inspire many others to pick up their game in the right direction.” He smiles at me again and shrugs his shoulders and I sat there as I digested this information.
“And what happens to him?” I ask, my face not just red from the crying anymore. The angel’s smile widens.
“He decides to carry on your dream for, since it’s the least thing he can do for someone he loved, even if he didn’t know you personally that much. You know he was looking at you almost as long as you were looking at him. You guys were soul mates.” A new fresh round of tears started. “But as I was saying, he decided that since you didn’t get to live your dream, he would do what he could to live it for you. He enrolled into an acting school, and after he got experience and better at acting, he got into NIDA. After he completed his course he manages to get popular enough to get a range of roles for both the big screen and small screen. He plays as many villains as he can for you, and constantly tells everyone he can about you.” I was bawling again and the angel quietened down and let me get it out of my system. “He can’t wait to see you again. “ He offered me helping hand to stand up, and I took it wiping the last few tears from my eyes. “And you’ll find the wait isn’t that long.” He says with a hand on my back as we walk together through the gates of heaven.

There was a princess who would look out her window every day. And every day she would see a man offer a flower to a woman. The princess was too far away to see any details between these exchanges, but she knew it must have been true love. Why else would the man give the flower without fail?

The princess would imagine a man giving her a flower every day as well, instead of the assortment of show pony princes who would show up with gold and jewellery as gifts, a new prince every day hoping to win her hand without actually wanting to win the rest of her. Just the thought of the men she had to deal with made her want to sleep for a century. Her small joy though, was watching this one man give a woman a flower.

One day the princess was feeling especially adventurous and decided to skip her daily meeting with today’s prince and sneak down to the village to get a closer look at the ritual she was always witnessing.

The man looked impressive and the woman was divine, and the princess sighed dreamily as the man picked a flower for his love. It was such a lovely sight the princess felt compelled to follow them.

The man would stroll with the lady on his arm, (his flower held in her other hand) and would talk about things like the weather and how her new necklace was wonderful. They would then eat a small meal, and he would accompany her back to her house. The princess wasn’t sure what happened afterward, because she realised the sky was darkening and hurried back to her castle before she got in too much trouble, but she spent the rest of the night dreaming that she was that fair lady, and had a peaceful rest.

The next day she was still feeling adventurous, and so decided to go spy on the happy couple once again. Except this time, the princess realised, he was handing a flower to a different woman. The princess continued to follow them, and realised that he did the exact same thing with this new woman as he did with the other. The princess was awfully confused, and when she returned home decided to go again, to make sure things weren’t what they seemed.

But the next day when she went, he had a different woman to the past two! Did that mean that each day she had watched him hand a flower to a lady; it had been a different lady?

The princess didn’t bother sticking around, but instead opted to mope in her castle about her findings. That meant that was she wasn’t really true love. What was true love then? Was she destined to pick one of the visiting princes? Was that what love was?

A few days passed before the princess decided to look out the window again, and she noticed that the man was there all alone. Maybe the women had caught on and refused to see him?

He was also alone the next day.

And the next.

Curiosity got the better of the princess and she once again ventured down, but this time to see why it was the man was alone. When she got there, the man spoke aloud.

“You’ve finally come!”
The princess was confused, and looked around to see who he could be talking to.
“I’ve seen you looking out your window, and a few days ago you were following me! It’s alright, you don’t have to hide.”

Blushing with embarrassment the princess came out of her hiding place, and the man walked up to her, bowed, and presented her with two flowers.
“Please tell me what is that has captivated you, my princess, I am dying to know.”
“I had thought that you were showing a special woman of yours how much you loved her each day, however I could not see too well to realise that you were in fact showing this love to multiple women.” The princess replied coldly. “I had honestly thought I witnessing true love.”

The man laughed and looked at the princess with a fond expression.
“I was simply seeing if each woman could have been my true love my dear princess.”
“Have you found her? With everyone you’ve seen?”
The man smiled sadly.
“Not yet I’m afraid. How about you?”
The princess shook her head violently.
“No one I’ve ever met has actually wanted to know me. It’s something awful when everyone just wants you for your pretty crown.”
The man offered his arm to the princess.
“I would like to get to know you, princess. I have for a while since I first saw you watching me. Would you care for a stroll?”

The princess looked at him a little surprised. In all her days of watching and dreaming she’d not actually expected this to happen in truth.
She smiled at the man and took his arm and they strolled through town, on a different route than the ladies before.

Weeks of flowers and walks later, both decided they had in fact finally found their true love.

There’s a certain chill you get when you’re walking home in the dark. You’re never sure if you’re going to be a part of the larger majority that make it home or if you’re going to become another example to children as to why you shouldn’t walk home alone after dark. Sometimes you’re not sure which one you’d like to be.

Arthur always thought that it would be a spiritual experience. No one would be around, the cars would seldom roar through the street and he would feel like he was one of the few people left alive and thus it would make him feel even more alive. He’d walked down the empty streets, strutting in time to his music without a care, taking all the time in the world. Of course when he actually got around to doing this, it wasn’t at all what he had hoped.

After working a late shift he had missed his bus and, with his parents asleep and no other apparent form of transport, resigned himself for the short (yet tiring) trek home.
Instead of slowly strutting, he had his limbs as close to his body as he could and opted for a brisk speed walk. Instead of feeling like he was the last person in the world, he felt like someone was hiding behind each corner and each alleyway and no matter how many times he looked back to see make sure, he always felt like someone was following him. If someone happened to pass him by on the street, he stayed as far away from them as he could. He saw the other people doing the same thing to him.

It’s kind of sad how you can’t walk down a street without automatically thinking someone is going to kill you. Humanity’s faith in itself couldn’t possibly get any worse anymore.

Luckily for Arthur, his house was just a little further away so hopefully he wouldn’t have to shy away from could-be-murderers again. He could almost see his green fence. Just one more alley way to go than another 5 houses and then he could heat up left-overs and have a refreshing shower and after an hour or two on the internet finally get some sleep. It looked like he was thankfully going to be a part of the majority.

The news headlines for the next morning were “Teen Boy Found Dead in Alleyway”, and a little blurb under the big letters told how he was so close to home, barely 5 houses but he didn’t make it.
Arthur’s walk home alone in the dark was spiritual in the end. Just more a little bit more literal than he planned.

I read the line so far. The woman kinda reminds me of Mary Poppins hehe. She's there as long as you need her, then once you're good on your own two feet, she's gone. But it goes out in all directions, not just Mary Poppins helping, but then the one who was helped turning around ot help the next in line. Nicely written.

That's a good summary XD
Thanks I tried 8;D