Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Falling In Love is Hard on the Knees	By : sarahjean Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > General Views: 3149 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance
Another heartache, another failed romance
On and on, does anybody know what we are living for?
I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now
I'll soon be turning, round the corner now
Outside the dawn is breaking
But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free
- Queen, The Show Must Go On

I wasn�t feeling all that great. I had a headache that reminded me of those movies where a killer whacks someone round the head with a sledge hammer. My pelvis was hurting too, as were my ribs. Why was I in a bad condition? Well, let me see. I�d just been to Hastings with Penny, Leela and Rob whilst Mama looked after Jessie. It started out as an okay trip, but Leela got into one of her usual bratty moods, which rapidly diminished any happiness there was. I tried really hard to make Penny feel better, but this time my humour and wit didn�t do anything for my poor sister.

I�d been on a ride with her that went pretty fast, and had Penny squashing me against the side so that I wondered if the ride people would have to scrape me off with a shovel. Penny isn�t heavy or anything � if anything, she could run for Twiggy�s stunt double, but still � it�s not nice moving at a speed with someone crushing you!

Anyway, that explains my pelvis. The ride stops halfway through and starts bumping up and down. Therefore the side of the car was playing my ribs like a xylophone, hence the pain and the huge bruise.

�Is this what sex is like?� I laughed to Penny.

�Kind of, only sex isn�t as exciting!� She laughed back. Well, that put an end to my ideas of sex being fun. Not that I would know. I was twenty-two and still a virgin. In fact, I�d only ever had one boyfriend, and that didn�t end well. I smashed his head against the car steering wheel when he tried to get too comfortable. His nose is a little offset where I broke it, but he survived. As I said before, I�m anti-social � especially with the opposite sex.

I got home and as soon as Penny, Rob, Leela and Jessie left, I darted up for a shower. I needed to calm myself. When we�d got home, dad and mum hardly noticed I existed. They were all over Penny. That stung. We�d got some pictures taken, and the one of me on my own got shoved aside. They have a way of making their daughter feel loved, don�t they?

I�d picked up Jack some rock. He was as thankful as Jack gets, I suppose. The guy is 26, I�ll bet he still lives at home by the time he�s forty.

I had a long shower in which I discovered my lovely purple, red and yellow bruise. After I�d finished, I cleaned my face thoroughly, and took my time to try and make myself feel human. Leela�s little performance at Hastings, especially when flinging her cola around in an expensive leather shop, had disgusted and upset everyone, and I was feeling quite depressed � though not only over Leela, but over mum and dad�s failure to notice that they had two daughters, not just one.

I�d had a lot on my mind lately. Mainly because since I�d finished college, I had very little to do. I spent my days talking on the net to Berry and Thalia, listening to music and/or running around trying to see what I could do. Being bored gives people time to think, which isn�t always necessarily a good thing, depending on what you think about. I needed a job, that was for certain. The small job I had � drawing portraits and pictures from photographs. It made good money, I�ll admit, but at the same time, not many people desired pencil work. And most of the time, I don�t really care about the money � I just love the idea that someone has one of my drawings on the wall, that the time I spent was cherished.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Thinking. Thinking is a dangerous thing, you know. It confuses, hurts, angers, loves, and all the other emotions under the sun. Worse of all? It makes me realise exactly how messed up my life has been and in many ways, still is.

I say I don�t want a boyfriend � that boys are a waste of valuable time and space. And that is true to me. But sometimes, I wonder what it is like to be loved. And wonder why no one has ever really asked me out. Thalia says it�s because I threaten to murder people and try to set them on fire. Thalia don�t know shit. But then, I can be scary sometimes. I know that. But I shouldn�t dwell on it. If they don�t like what they see, they can fuck off.

After I was done with my shower, I pretty much gave my parents the cold shoulder. My dad is obsessed with depression. If you don�t want to smile, its depression. If you don�t get one of his jokes, oh my god! It�s depression! So of course, when I was slightly colder, he thought I was depressed. Maybe I was. What could he do about it? I could hardly tell him I hate how he prefers Penny, because he�d just deny it. It�s hard having no proof but your own eyes and feelings.

Dad had told me to always share my feelings with him, since the time I decided to tell him that I�d self-harmed. But I can�t tell him � it seems so wrong. So wrong�

Tommy popped round for a short while. He�d been having some fights with Kimberly, was feeling a little lonely. I stayed down for a little while, then went upstairs.

I stayed in my room for the rest of the night, listening to music on my computer, drawing pictures, and I even cried a little. Queen�s �The Show Must Go On� was played at Mark�s funeral, and I listen to it to think of him. Putting the song on that day tipped me over the edge a little, and I grabbed my teddy and cried into its fur. Pathetic? Maybe. But at least I chose crying than acting on my impulses and thumping anything or anyone.

I stayed up in bed that night, reading Richard Laymon�s �Island�. It was an odd book, not my normal sort, but it was also good. I didn�t get very far, however, when I felt a familiar boredom come over me. I need to move around a bit. I stood carefully, placing my book on the bedside table, and I walked over to my window to close it. Even on the hottest nights, I had to close my window because the extended room built for Danny was directly under my window, so thieves roaming the railway line that ran behind the gardens along our street could easily clamber onto the roof and through my window. So I shut it.

Before I shut it, though, I looked out upon the world. The houses twinkling in the distance, our neighbours� yards with the various breeds of dogs barking at foxes and badgers. At our own overgrown garden, looking like something from Jurassic Park. I wouldn�t have been surprised if there were dinosaurs out there. Lastly, I looked upon the sky, the breeze stirring my hair.

When I was a little girl, I was told the stars were your deceased loved ones staring down at you from heaven, and that the brightest star was the one you loved the most. I had a hard time believing that, because I loved most of my relatives equally. I�d always pretend the star was my poor cat Mischief, who got run over right in front of me. But when my uncle died, I always treated that star as being him. He meant a lot to me, always would. The second brightest star, well, I always pretended that was Mark.

As I stared at the sky, a shooting star streaked across it, and a small smile tugged at my lips. Another thing I�d always been told as a child. When you see a shooting star, wish upon it, and your wish would come true.

Why not? I thought to myself. After all, it�s not as if you have anything to lose. So I closed my eyes, and thought, I wish I had a reason to live.

Morbid? Perhaps. Desperate? Definitely. I was so desperate to sink once more into a pit of depression and never arise again, maybe I thought it would stop the pain or something. But I also didn�t want to sink away. Thanks to Mark, I had tasted what it felt like to have a real life, and I wanted more.

Sighing, I stuck a joss stick in the holder and lit it with my black lighter, slipping it into my pocket and watching the tendrils of scented smoke billow around the room. I slumped onto my back on my bed and stared at the white ceiling . I hugged my teddy, Dozey, the dog who I had cuddled earlier as I wept into his cream fur, close to me. I kept him there, even at 22, because ever since I was 5, I had been plagued with nightmares. I had discovered that the only way to keep them away was either to use the gift I had for controlling my actions in a dream or waking myself up, or hug a teddy.

I felt so pathetic, living at my parents� house at this age. But since I was also pathetic in the working and money area, I couldn�t support myself alone for two days. I had no choice. I just hoped I didn�t end up like Jack, forever tied to my computer and strange Americans.

Slowly, my eyes began to shut, and my last thought was, why is it that everyone who means a lot to me either walks or way or dies? Why is it that I always have to say goodbye?
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Falling In Love is Hard on the Knees