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Checkmate

by Tiffany Forster (Age: 27)
copyright 10-04-2007


Age Rating: 13 +

"I'm not going to play your game anymore."


Knight to C3



There it was in response to the statement. That infuriating and condescending raising of the eyebrow paired with that casual smirk that let the world know that no matter how right the statement might be in reality, there was no way it was going to be spoken aloud from those lips. They were too busy smirking. Yet that was half the fun and half the reason anyone ever agreed to even play the game.

"Game? What game? That is what this is you then, a simple game?"


Pawn to C5



The smirk was still there, lurking in the corner of the mouth. And there is another one, laying in wait in the corner of an eye. It is hard to decide which one to hate more, the knowing smirk or the spark in the eye that screams 'I won this...'


Pawn to D4



It has to be there spark in the eye, because it lies and it has not won. That is what is so infuriating, that even the casual arrogance can make a winner. Then again, there is no winner, yet no one really lost either. It makes sense somewhere in the universe.


Pawn to B6



"Yes, it is a game. A wonderful, thrilling and tiring game that doesn't really have an end. So I quit."


Bishop to F4



Silence. It is almost comforting, aside from the echoing sound of the clock in the background, nearly forgotten. It is humming its tune in an attempt to bring back all of those countless hours spent alone, with only the passing time as company. Yet, in the end, Time and misses moments make far better companions when compared to Regret.

"You quit?"


Knight to C6



A silent nod. What else is to be said? The statement is self-explanatory, unless it really wasn't a game and too much time had been spent reading in between lines that didn't exist and trying to find metaphors on a sheet of blank paper.

Knight to F3



"So then, if this is a game like you say it is, and you quit... does that mean that I win?"


Pawn to E6



It couldn't be helped and the response was the rolling of the eyes. Winning? Is it really winning if it is by default?

"No. You didn't win because technically I didn't lose."


Pawn to D5



"You technically didn't lose."


Knight to E7



There is that tone of voice now. It is hated almost more than the spark in the eye, the raising of the eyebrow or the smirk that is still laying in wait in the corner of the mouth. It is that tone that ones uses when talking to children, or idiots.

"No one wins this time. If I had lost, then we would have both won in our own little way."


Pawn to D6



There is the eyebrow again, back with vengeance. Even the tone in the body has shifted, as if this is all going according to some sort of plan.


Knight to G6



Light. If this was a cartoon there would have been a small light bulb appearing above that head of dark hair to signal that something had finally clicked. Just when you thought everything was figured out, and there were no more pieces left to play, that happens.


Knight to D5



"Oh, that game. Sorry to disappoint you love, but I was never playing that game. It would be too easy."


Pawn to D5



There is a folding of the arms, the smirk makes itself know and a set of eyes are narrowed. This is also part of the game, it always is.

"Liar."


Queen to D5



As if that one wasn't seen from a mile away. There is laughter, but not the happy kind of laughter, the kind of laughter that is hallow and contains nothing. It is unnerving, yet intriguing all at the same time, making you question whether or not you really are safe.


Rook to B8



There is the sudden sound of footsteps and the rustle of clothing. Now, they are far closer than the were before, mere inches separating the past and the future. It is the point where doubt slinks into the dark recesses of the mind and takes hold, making you think that perhaps you revealed your cards too easily, that maybe you didn't think far enough ahead. Maybe, it is better to just stay in this game a little while longer to see how it ends.

Hands are entangled in hair before the passing time is able to register it.

"Check."

There is laughter again, but this time not nearly as hallow. With the casual wave of a hand, hair is left alone once more and eyes narrow, a new light held within them. Everything clicks, all the pieces fall into place and suddenly everything makes sense.

Knight to G5



"Check? Really... I thought this wasn't a game."


Knight to F4



This is when it all falls away, when the ticking of the clock signals the countdown to the masterpiece being revealed, the bomb going off or the lock clicking shut. There is the soft sound of footsteps, someone walking towards a door, taking all the passing time with them to keep as a companion. The smirk is gone now, so is the spark. Now there is only the barest ghost of an emotion as a soft whisper is left in the room to keep the lone figure company.


Queen to F7



"Checkmate."



[I'm baaaaaaaaaaack! And all thanks to Richard Reed, for without him, heaven only know where I would be. Thanks ^_^]






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