Peer Pressure

I've considered putting up some of my actual writing up, and couldn't decide...but I've decided now to share at least some of it. Here's something I wrote roughly 6-7 months ago, while sitting in the UCSC. It's a little odd, I suppose, but it was very enjoyable to write.

Peer Pressure

Glancing around, the tension of the moment heating your face up, you hope no one will witness this. Or, if they do, maybe they'll pretend it didn't happen, that they didn't hear it. That is the worst part, you think, knowing that someone might choose to hear, and not being able to comprehend what they might do. Truly, this is a terrifying task you have set up for yourself.

Okay. You flex your fingers while telling yourself, "Who cares?" Alright, fine, you do...but they couldn't know that, could they? You can feel the smooth ring, with the jagged edges you know are tucked underneath. Only an idiot could cut themselves on something like this. An idiot, or someone who doesn't care like you care. A cut could only make things worse than they will be already.

Steeling yourself once more, you gently pry the ring up a fraction, then scoot your thumb underneath it, carefully. You're not an idiot, but you don't want to take chances, either. Then, slowly, ever so sluggishly, you put pressure on the aluminum ring, bearing up with your thumb while holding the ring in place with your index finger.

A creaking, groaning noise escapes the ring, and you pause for a moment, wondering if people were already listening. The worst is still yet to come. The disturbing thing is knowing that if you did it quickly, no one would truly notice, or if they did, they would know that you are strong, and unafraid of what they could do to you, and therefore they would keep their silence. You could beat them that way, you suppose, but...somehow, you can't. You're not that strong, not that confident. Oh, curse your shyness, your fear of man, that this should be such a terrifying quest!

Still you press on, now pulling the ring rather than raising it. The beast will be here any moment, ready to tear you apart. A final rasp echoes from the metal, and then, finally, terribly, a gunshot fills the air.

Almost as in the garden, when even the angels fell silent to watch what man and woman would choose, there is a stillness in the air. No one moves, no one dares breathe. Not even you. God Above, save you from the silence, from the beast who is waiting just behind you.

After an infinity of angels holding their breath, you dare to flick your eyes to the side. No one has looked up from their appointed tasks, no one has chosen to hear you. To the right is a firmly painted wall, with shades of the Holy Spirit added by meandering pencils. Ah, the calm of stone is a blessing, and you dare to touch it, if only with one finger.

The beast still lurks, but you've moved on to brighter corners. The ring is terrifying no more, and the threat of a paused, listening ear has been vanquished. The crisis is over, the new day begun.

And best yet, you can drink a toast to the empty room, and God who waits within, toasting you in return.

Feedback would be greatly appreciated. =)

~Fumblebee