Character trait that i hate. WOAH that rymed. :D
PostPosted: Tue Feb 14, 2006 7:43 pm
for short story class, we had to write a short vignette thing about a character trait we dislike. and we had to describe it in a character.
so umm.. this is what i wrote. i hope you guys like it!! ^^
He picked up his jacket and walked down the isle, between the rows of forest-green chairs. Walking past the front row, he carelessly tossed his jacket onto the chairs- it landed casually on the row- one arm hanging off. He walked forward still- with full concentration, carelessly pushing back his long, blonde bangs that hung in front of his green eyes. Stepping up onto the stage, he picked up his guitar- and slowly began strumming away, concentrating hard- but then again fully aware of what was going on around him. He stood there like a model, he knew exactly how to stand, exactly how to move his fingers so delicately over the hard strings, the exact facial expression to wear- to make him look like he was so wrapped up in his own world. He knew exactly how to carelessly wipe away his blonde bangs; he knew exactly how to push up his black rimmed glasses. Every movement was planned; every word was placed together like puzzle pieces before he spoke. But even though all his movements and all his words did one thing- looking into his eyes told you another story. Those green eyes- sharp, conceded, planning, deceptive- sat behind his black-rimmed glasses.
I sat there in the third row, watching him play so innocently- but knowing he had so many motives behind it. I knew his plan. I knew what he was doing. He knew he was just so cool. He knew it. I could tell with every movement he made, with every turn of his head, with every blink of his eyes. I knew. He couldn’t hide it from me, for I had experienced it first hand. I fell for it, just like the two girls in the row in front of me.
I sat, arms crossed, slouched, watching the two girls swoon and squeal over him. Disgusted, I sat there. Aware, I sat there. Disappointed, I sat. For they had been persuaded by his mask, they had been susceptible to his words. Now they were blinded by love, a fake, one sided love. I sat there and knew that it would end like it always did. She would confess her love, he would deny her, and then ignore her, and soon she was just a figment of his imagination- just barely there to help feed his ego. I closed my eyes, listening to the strum of his guitar. Slowly I stood, grabbing my coat before I left- not looking back. It was no use persuading those girls, they wouldn’t understand- it was too late for them. I could see myself in them- and just knowing I was once as naïve and ignorant as them, made my stomach churn. I left, the last sound of his guitar notes echoed through my head, each note explaining his every last flaw.
so umm.. this is what i wrote. i hope you guys like it!! ^^
He picked up his jacket and walked down the isle, between the rows of forest-green chairs. Walking past the front row, he carelessly tossed his jacket onto the chairs- it landed casually on the row- one arm hanging off. He walked forward still- with full concentration, carelessly pushing back his long, blonde bangs that hung in front of his green eyes. Stepping up onto the stage, he picked up his guitar- and slowly began strumming away, concentrating hard- but then again fully aware of what was going on around him. He stood there like a model, he knew exactly how to stand, exactly how to move his fingers so delicately over the hard strings, the exact facial expression to wear- to make him look like he was so wrapped up in his own world. He knew exactly how to carelessly wipe away his blonde bangs; he knew exactly how to push up his black rimmed glasses. Every movement was planned; every word was placed together like puzzle pieces before he spoke. But even though all his movements and all his words did one thing- looking into his eyes told you another story. Those green eyes- sharp, conceded, planning, deceptive- sat behind his black-rimmed glasses.
I sat there in the third row, watching him play so innocently- but knowing he had so many motives behind it. I knew his plan. I knew what he was doing. He knew he was just so cool. He knew it. I could tell with every movement he made, with every turn of his head, with every blink of his eyes. I knew. He couldn’t hide it from me, for I had experienced it first hand. I fell for it, just like the two girls in the row in front of me.
I sat, arms crossed, slouched, watching the two girls swoon and squeal over him. Disgusted, I sat there. Aware, I sat there. Disappointed, I sat. For they had been persuaded by his mask, they had been susceptible to his words. Now they were blinded by love, a fake, one sided love. I sat there and knew that it would end like it always did. She would confess her love, he would deny her, and then ignore her, and soon she was just a figment of his imagination- just barely there to help feed his ego. I closed my eyes, listening to the strum of his guitar. Slowly I stood, grabbing my coat before I left- not looking back. It was no use persuading those girls, they wouldn’t understand- it was too late for them. I could see myself in them- and just knowing I was once as naïve and ignorant as them, made my stomach churn. I left, the last sound of his guitar notes echoed through my head, each note explaining his every last flaw.
