Wicked fun and combined efforts in a tale by Dreamswoven AND Marquis de Joker - Part One

Amy posted a challenge for two writers to write something together. The Marquis and I have been working via email to put together something to answer the call. That in itself was a challenge, given major time differences and the like. As to which of us wrote which part, that is likely another challenge for people. Have fun guessing! ;-)

This is merely Part One of a longer tale, how long - well I'm not too sure...

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs,
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes,
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with loving tears,
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet

* * *

They sit there, across a table in a dim lit room. At the same table in between is a nurse. She is sitting back on her chair, reading a book. Every now and then she glances up and looks around the room. After noticing that all is well, she returns to her reading...
* * *
I had another birthday, so I'm now 35. I had a few calls, some people actually showed up to wish me another great year. I smiled and said thanks. Inside, I wished they would all fuck off so I could get back to my computer. After being disturbed with the third call, I was saying "Yeah it was a good day" while imagining being at the other end of the phone, ripping their limbs apart and watching the blood spray the walls.

I turned the phone off, moved my car so everyone thought I was out and removed the batteries from my doorbell. No more interruptions.

I return to my only true friend in the world. Her screen is calling, beckoning me. It is the call of a siren that I can not ignore.

Looking at some videos a week ago – I was struck. Speechless. There is an ethereal beauty to one girl on there. I looked at some other videos she has posted of herself. All are exquisite. I am completely drawn in – to her, by her. I found her details to send her a message, to let her know. There have been messages between us since then.

It seems as if an eternity has passed since my first words to her. Even now I struggle with my mind trying to get out words from something Shakespearean to something as simple as hello. Every moment I want to tell her I love her; I tell myself what the hell as the words fly over and over.... I hear them flowing with every breath I take; she loves to know what I think of her. I write a poem to her...

If the sun won’t cast its light
The moon kept all its glow
You would always be in sight
And all I’ll ever know
For in my dreams how can it be
That only you are kept
A life of love just you and me
If only as I slept...

I look to the clock it’s only been a minute, only a minute since I sent my message and the time is killing me.

Looking at her videos again, the one of her dancing, the one of her in a schoolgirl’s uniform. She knows more about me than anyone. Before I even hear the sound I know she has responded.. To hear the message from others was nothing but if she wishes me a Happy Birthday… I can only hope she may have a surprise for me. I quickly look to her on video.

* * *

It was really boring, going to college, parties. While I was happy leaving my troubled life before college behind I was now becoming tired of the dreary life being carved out in front of me. Finish college, get a job. Marry someone boring, have a family. It made me scream inside just to think of it.

One of my friends first introduced me to posting videos on the internet about six months ago. She had some on there for her family to see. I had other ideas in mind. It took me a few months until I went ahead with my idea.

My first one was quite shy, coy. Just a small part of my room, my life and me for people to see. The number of hits my video had shocked me!! So I began to post more sometimes once a week, often twice.. It was a journal update on my world – or the one I created. I always dressed in something different. Even a schoolgirl uniform once. Nearly all the comments and messages were from men – but that was the whole point.

I was after something specific. Age was important. Preferably, they were at least 10-15 years older, very lonely, not many friends or family. The more I could ensnare in my intricately woven web the better...

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