backbone.

By cataclysm_

284 37 32

"don't wear your wishbone where your backbone should be." More

copy rights & small note
backbone graveyard
cheshire

boys in trees

85 10 10
By cataclysm_

Heres the next chapter I hope you like it! Please vote and comment with your opinions!!

BTW HASHTAG backbone. IN THE COMMENTS! OR #ELENA AND #CAMDEN

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CHAPTER TWO

THE CHAIR FELL FROM MY SHIVERING feet. And that was it, just like that it was going to be over and I wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again. I’d struggle for a moment, gasping for the air I so desperately needed, but after only seconds that would be it. It would be over.

    At least, thats what I had planned out in my head.

    When the chair plummeted towards the dirt, I felt the rope snag my neck, but that was it. After that one harsh pull I too plummeted towards the dirt gasping for air. It would be an understatement if I were to say that I was baffled. It may have even been the understatement of the entire year - no, of the century.

    One thought ran clear through my foggy head, I must be really fat to break a two inch rope.

    I refused to pry my eyes open at that moment, because I knew that if I did that the tears would fight themselves to the surface. I had yet again attempted and failed suicide. Either fate was taunting me, pointing her wicked finger and laughing or I was a Vampire and just couldn't die. Both sounded preposterous but yet at this point I was considering every possibility.

    “Fuck i'm fat!” I finally voiced aloud. Loud enough to be heard if anyone was around, but not nearly loud enough to wake anyone up.

    When I heard a laugh, I pushed it off as simply being a delusion from my addled brain. But when it continued followed by a distinct snort my eyes flew open. I was faced upwards, looking into the tree that had just betrayed me. And I sure as hell was freaked out when through the shadows from the rising sun, I saw a figure of a man. It was lying on its stomach against the branch the broken rope once hung on, and for the life of me I could have swore I saw something like the Cheshire Cat grinning slyly at me. Or at least someone with extremely pearly whites.

    “What the fu-” my question was cut short by another voice.

    “You sure do have quite a potty mouth for being a lady” it said and right away i knew it was the Cheshire.

    I began to ramble hopelessly, “who the hell are you and what in Gods name are you doing in my tree? Did you cut that rope?”

    To which he replied, “and boy do you sure ask a lot of questions.”

    I didn't move from my spot in the dirt, only squinted my eyes at the figure that was slowly coming more and more into perspective. “I'm gonna ask you one more time - who - are - you?”

    The light was now shining through the leaves enough for me to make out a face, and a body, and even cloths. It was boy, his hair the color dead autumn leaves, and a grin that certainly resembled Alice in Wonderlands Cheshire Cat. He had to be as old, if not older than I was. The funny thing was, Forest Lake was a small school with only a thousand, if that, students in total. From Elementary all the way up to High School. Everyone knew everyone and everything. But I had completely no idea who he was, or why he was in my tree.

    “The names Bond - James Bond” to be honest, his sarcasm that dripped from his every word made me want to kick puppies. (Not that I would actually ever do that to a poor innocent puppy, but still, my feeling are the same.)

    “Come on man. This is serious.” I crossed my dirty arms over my dirty chest, still refusing to stand up let alone take the nose off that still hung at my neck.

    I watched him roll his eyes, “well obviously, you almost killed yourself.”

    “So what? What I do with my free time is none of your business.” I snapped hastily.

    At this point it was light enough to see the color of his eyes. They reminded me of the Winnie of Pooh, by looking the color of the Honey Winnie craved so much. Or a swarm of determined Honey Bees zooming through the spring air to pollinate different kinds of different flowers. Like the color of the pollen that hated me just as much as the rest of the world did.

The boy cocked his head to the right, resting on the bark of the tree. “Very true, but in all honesty I didn't think you were gonna go through with it.”

My blood began to boil, “well I would have if you had not tampered with the damn rope!”  

“Again, very true. You should be thanking me right now, I just saved your life.”

Propping myself of my dirty elbows I looked the boy straight in the eyes, “what makes you think I want saving? What's to say that dying is what I truly want?”

The boy propped himself up as well, “if you did you wouldn't have stood there as long as you did. If thats what you truly wanted, you would have done it immediately without thinking about it.”

Damn him I cursed silently, my blood now beginning to burn in my skin. “You dont know me, you don't even know my name. And you certainly dont know what I want.”

“For the third time this morning, youre right. Youre good at that you know? So what is your name anyways?”

“I asked you first.”

“Age before beauty my sweet”

“Dont call my beautiful, creep.” I shot back.

His smile grew. “I like you, you got moxy.”

“No I dont”

“Yes, you do.”

“No I friggen don't!”

His harmonic laughter filled the dangling leaves around him, “see, moxy. Right there. Thats moxy.”

“Just tell me your fucking name.”

“I already told you its Bon-”

A growl nearly slipped my lips. “I swear to God if you say James Bond i’ll -”

He snorted, cutting me off, “you’ll what? Kill your self?”

He had gone to far that time. That was the last bit of self control I had in my body. I wanted this boys head on a platter for mocking me like he did. I wanted to take the nose that was currently around my neck and securely fasten it around his. For only being in my presence not even five minutes, this was probably a new record for me. Usually it takes at least ten minutes of being around someone in order for me to secretly plan out their fatalities in my demented mind. “Don't you fucking dare joke about this you inconsiderate piece of -”

Yet again, he cut me off. “Camden.”

“What?”

He swung himself to sit upright in the Sycamore, dangling his legs off the edge. “My name is Camden.” He paused for a dramatic moment, “Camden Jones, at your service my lady.” While curling his hand to do the best bow one could accomplish as sitting in a tree.

“Id say its a pleasure but - well, it's kind of not.”

Camden threw his hand to his heart in a mock hurt, “ouch, your sharp tongue wounds me my dear lady.”

Cue an eye roll, “will you stop talking like that? I mean jeez what are we? Twelve?”

“Maybe” he drew it out, almost as if he was sticking his tongue out at me without actually sticking his tongue out at me. “So now that you have the pleasure of knowing my name, may I ask yours?”

    For a moment I debated whether or not to give my real name to him or not. If I did he could go to his parents, or my parents try to tell them what I just attempted to do. Then again, if he would have ran off to tell someone of what I just tried to do, wouldn’t he have done it in the first place instead of climbing to the top of a sycamore to cut a rope?

    After contemplating for a while I finally answered, “its Elena.”

Camden swung himself down to the ground. Landing nearly perfectly on his feet before reaching down his hand to me. “Really? You look more like a Delilah to me. Or one of those girls nineties boy bands wrote about.”

I took his hand. “Oh, well thanks.” It was better I not come back on his comment. It would only fuel his already growing ego.

Slowly, almost as if he was hesitant he wrapped his hands over the rope that was still dangling around my neck and lifting it off. “Well” he beamed a smile at me “should we get rid of this stuff before your parents wake up or would you rather explain this all to them?”

“The garbage is on the side of the house.” I pointed to where we could hide the broken rope. Hopefully, my parents wouldn't be the wiser.

After stashing the so called evidence Camden made his way back up into the tree, and I followed suit. I dont know why I just didn't go inside and swallow some pills or something, but I still didn't know why he did why he did instead of walking by or calling the cops or anything besides what he did do.

“Why’d you cut the rope?” I asked after settling on a seemingly sturdy branch.

He smiled, crossing his arms over his arms. “I wasn't just going to let you kill yourself Elena.” there was a pause. “Why did you try killing yourself anyways?”

I sighed, “it's a long and insanely boring story.”

“Good thing I'm not in school and I like boring, isn't it?”

Who the fuck was this kid?

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CAMDEN TO THE SIDE!

QUESTIONS; what do you think of Camden?  

Whats one thing youd like to see put into the story?

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