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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Still
Sounds
Back
Watching
Look
Hair
Looks
Probably
Blinked
Feel
Knew
Hairs
Feels
Sound
Neck
Didn
Necks
Stills
Weird

More quotes by Lucy Christopher

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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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When the darkness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
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It happened like this. I was stolen from an airport. Taken from everything I knew, everything I was used to. Taken to sand and heat, dirt and danger. And he expected me to love him. This is my story. A letter from nowhere.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.
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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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In a moment, when I'm ready, I will turn off this computer and that will be it. This letter will be finished. A part of me doesn't want to stop writing to you, but I need to. For both of us.
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This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
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I thought you wanted to catch a camel, you tried again. No. I want to. Well, you go then. You laughed. I want your beautiful face where I can see it
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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I mean, that star over there is blinking at me madly now, but for how long? An hour or two, or for the next million years? And how long will we sit here like this? Just another moment, or the rest of our lives? You know which one I'd prefer.
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But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
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I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.
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