Got a good story?

[VonBrewskie]

I'm bored. Tell me a good story of yours. Can be fictional if you like, but I'd prefer a good true story. Try not to get yourselves arrested for saying stupid things either, ok? Here's my contribution. I was going to post it in the "Most Metal Thing I Ever Did" thread but I started writing this and just kind of kept going. Decided to make a separate thread for the creative writers out there. Wanted to see if any of you have some good stories to share. They don't have to be long or anything. Just good, interesting stories. Can be game related if you like; I have heard some pretty funny stories from my buddies that play WOW and FFIX, when taken in context. Here's my contribution...

Broke into a golf course after dark to steal gas from the golf-cart gas pump for my '68 SS El Camino. Hopped a ten-foot, chain link fence to get inside. Had a buddy with me; hard to drop a full gas can on the ground from ten feet. Hard to climb a fence with a heavy-ass gas can in the first place. Promised my buddy that I would fill my car with like a can a and a half, then go back for a can for him. Can was one of those big, red, metal ten gallon ones. Left my buddy on the other side of the fence with my keys in case we had to make a run for it. I actually planned several trips to the pump, as I had done this several times before. One time got four friends to help me. We filled up our four cars at that friggin' pump over the course of an hour.

I got inside and walked about twenty yards to the spot where the gas pump the course used to fill up their carts was. Broke the lock off the pump, began to steal gas. 'Bout three minutes in five flashlights appeared on a hill to my left, 'bout a hundred yards away. Kept stealing gas. Heard people shouting stuff like "MOTHERF***ERS ARE GUNNA DIE!!!!"

Lights got closer. Rocks began to fall around me. Kept stealing gas. Gas can was almost full. Getting piss scared now. Rock hit me in the knee, hard. Really hurt. Got hit in the back, gas can gets hit, almost drop it. Shit. I'm going to die. Gas can full! RUN ***** RUN!!!!!! But you can't really run fast with a ten gallon metal can of gas and a throbbing knee. Got to the fence. My buddy pulled a hero. Managed to push the ten-foot fence open wide enough for me to squeeze myself and the can of gas through. (Was a swing gate secured with a length of chain and a Masterlock. Had a little bit of room to push it open, you know? I didn't think it would go as far as my buddy had gotten it though. Cursed myself later for sure.)

Rocks kept coming. Amazed my car hadn't been hit yet. Flashlights past the pump now. Twenty yards to get to us. My buddy starts throwing rocks back. One light goes down with a muffled curse, then screaming. No joke. Found out later that my buddy tagged a guy directly in the chest and dropped him. Guy was just being a baby screaming like that. Worse he got was a bruise on the chest.

My car is fast. SS 396 with around 415hp. We secure the can in my bed with bungies and get ready to take off. Rock smashes through the rear window of my beautiful baby. I stop. I turn around. I lose it. Start picking up rocks and throwing them back, screaming as loud as the guy on the ground behind the flashlights. My buddy joins me. Rocks sailing back and forth now. Can see the guys holding the flashlights now. They see me. Don't care. Couple of the flashlight guys are trying to climb the fence while another is trying to squeeze through the bottom. My licence plate is right there, but me and my buddy and these guys are at war, you know? Didn't have lights in the licence frame anyway. Street was pretty dark. Think that's what saved me. I get tagged in the nuts by the one guy still throwing rocks. Drop to my knees. Breath taken away.

One dude gets to the top of the fence and FALLS OFF THE TOP and cracks onto the sidewalk. Rolls around screaming too. Found out later he separated his shoulder. Dude on the bottom get through. Buddy grabs me, pulls me up, throws me into the passenger seat via the driver's side, neglects to see that the passenger-side door isn't closed all the way. My...car...is...fast. Guy from the bottom of the fence is on us. Buddy starts car, car rips up, screams out into the night. People that own Chevy Big-Blocks know the scream I'm talking about. Buddy floors it. Got Positraction so we go down the street, nose up, turned a bit sideways, going in a straight line. Guy from the bottom of the fence gets a hand on the driver's side door as we're going, almost gets the door open. Guy from the bottom of the fence gets smart, lets go of the door and stumbles away in the rubber fog we're leaving behind.

Car snaps into a straight line when my buddy takes his foot off the gas to get traction. When the car snaps, the passenger door opens up, and I go flying out the side into the street. Roll over my own shoulder and sprain my Rotator-cuff. Many, many cuts and bruises. Lots of skin gone on my shoulder, back, shins, etc. Really messed myself up. Buddy goes about twenty-five yards before he stops. I am dimly aware of him screaming at me to get the hell up and run. I am really dizzy at this point. I'm a civilian, but I got to experience fog-of-war for real. It was crazy. Whole world got kind of washed-out and slow.

I managed to get to one knee and look up. Guy from the bottom of the fence must have seen me fall out, 'cause here he came. Burst through the tire smoke like a freakin' viking. Knew he was going to brain me with the flashlight. My arm was useless. Everything hurt. No breath again. Lungs burrrrrrrning. Tried to turn and run; didn't realize my ankle was sprained now too. Knife blade from my ankle shot up my left leg past the dull ache in my groin to the base of my skull. The pain snapped me out of partial stupor. Hobbled over to the car, jumped inside. Buddy was LAUGHING!!!! Turned to him: "FUCK YOU! FUCKING DRIVE! GO GO GO!" Buddy still laughing waits for the guy from the bottom of the fence to get close to the car and does one of those start-stop-start-stop things to him like three times. Can't believe him. Scrambling to get my seat belt on while my buddy goes: "C'mon. C'mon asshole. There we go. *gas**brake**gas* HAHAHA!!!!" Guy from the bottom of the fence throws his flashlight at us on the third start-stop. Got a new flashlight in the bed of my Elco. Nice one too. Police-style Maglite. Yoink!

Buddy floors it as I snap the belt shut. We bolt off into oblivion. Drive immediately to the freeway. Bits of safety glass everywhere in the cab. Freeway wasn't a good idea. Close my eyes as little cubes of glass go bouncing around the cab. Buddy is screaming: "WOOOOOOOOHOOOOO!" Doing about 110 on the freeway. Very subtle guy, my buddy is. Ease one eye open to see where we are. I'm in real pain now. Jolting Elco doing 110 isn't helping either. I'm catching snatches of Jimi Hendrix's Voodoo Chile on the radio; left my Ultimate Experience tape in the deck. Jimi be with us now. Holy shit. Buddy has put on his sunglasses. Excellent. It's only 3am. You know. Whatever. Guess it's better for him to have his Oakleys on at night than to have a cube of glass in his eye.

We get to my buddy's trailer park, pull into the "driveway" and cut the engine. His mom comes out as we're pulling a tarp over the car. I fall out of the side of the car and stumble back to get the Maglight. New teddy bear. I earned that shit, goddamn it. She she's how messed up I am and looks at us both very seriously. "You kill anyone?" We look at each other and my buddy smiles. I say: "Not that we know of. The guys who got me to do this to myself seemed to throw rocks and flashlights just fine." Mom is not happy. Asks if we should call the police. We say it ain't that serious. I say that I had gotten the worst of it anyway. Mom slaps my shoulder and makes yellow and orange roses of pain open up in front of me. I would have collapsed, but mom hoisted me up by my bad shoulder and told me if I passed out she'd beat my ass loud. I knew she meant it.

I stayed conscious while my buddy fished a smoke out of his pocket and lit up out on their "deck". "Looks like you fucked yourself up good, you stupid asshole. Let's get to the bathroom so I can clean you up." She sat me on the toilet, and opened up the medicine cabinet. I saw she had Neosporin and Hydrogen Peroxide. Also Vicodin. God, give me a Vicodin. She saw me eyeballing the pills and laughed. "You ain't gettin' shit my second son. You sit there and wallow." I saw her reach behind the relatively kind Hydrogen Peroxide and Neosorin. Damn it. She also had goddamn Iodine. And long fucking tweezers. My groin throbbed with a dull ache as she got some cotton balls out of a side drawer. She looked at me and said: "Strip." I looked at her dubiously. She sighed and put her hand on her hip while she pointed those long tweezers at me. Fire lit up behind her eyes. "STRIP." Damn it. I began to gingerly peel my shirt off. She reached over and "helped" with a good yank. I sucked a quick breath of pain through my teeth. I looked over at myself in the mirror. My eyes went wide. Second mom's voice switched over to a cooing whisper. "Yeah you messed yourself up pretty good kid. Kick off your shoes, take off your pants and sit back down. I used to wash you in my tub when you were a baby. A'int nothing I haven't seen before." I heard my buddy laughing outside. Asshole. Jesus, those were big tweezers.

She grabbed some cotton balls, put them over the mouth of the Iodine bottle and titled the bottle to the side. A strange, sick, smell that reminded me somehow of old fish and disease filled the bathroom as yellow liquid soaked the cotton in her hand. She grabbed me by my good shoulder and gently turned me so she could see the wounds on my back and shoulder. I began to notice how warm and relatively quiet the inside of the trailer was. Jay Leno droned on in some pointless monologue on the T.V. that would usually make me want to stab myself in the ears with an icepick; right now it seemed comforting. The was an old clock on the wall making a soothing "tick-tick-tick-tick" sound that started to hypnotize me. I was could feel sleep tugging at the corners of my eyes, despite the pain I was in. I heard second mom make a "tsk tsk" sound, and I felt a wet coldness on my back the instant before my world went black.

A can of gas, a Maglight, and a whiskey story. That was the most metal thing I ever did. Also, the dumbest. I still chat with my buddy on Facebook from time to time. We moved in separate directions in the years since high school ended. I sold my Elco years back to a collector across the bay that had more money to restore my baby properly. He did a ground-up, frame-off restoration that cost about 45k. My baby looks beeeeeeeeautiful. I'll try to buy her back someday. Second mom died three years ago from lung cancer. Apparently I passed out and she just drew a lukewarm bath and soaked me in it while she picked gravel from my shins. I later found out that I had a concussion and was lucky to be alive; didn't know until later that you aren't supposed to let someone with a concussion go to sleep. Still have that Maglite though. Battered old thing. I use it all the time. My most metal moment for you all to enjoy. Those years are far behind me now, but I still have a nice, jagged scar over my knee and a story for my kids when they get old enough to hear about how dumb their dad has been before.

 

[Rasputin1]

I'm not even going to try reading that. Try using some paragraphs at least?

 

[VonBrewskie]

Aw. It's not that bad. Ok. I'll edit it...

 

[Rasputin1]

That was alot easier to read than before =P It was an alright story, a little unbelievable at times, but its a story right? Also, you have a very odd writing style. Not bad, just odd.

 

[Audemas]

This is a true story in case anyone actually reads this:

I'm dating this girl I met on campus for one year and three months as of today and she is an amazing woman. She's very intelligent, and because of this she changed schools. She moved to Louisville from a town in Pennsylvania to go the University of Louisville. While going to school there, she lived with an aunt and uncle who still lived in the area. She wants to be a forensic paleontologist and the University of Louisville has a much better program than my school.

Anyway, she moved about seven months ago and we missed each other very much. We would still keep in contact by phone and over xbox, but she really wanted me to come down and see her. This is difficult for myself because as a college student I have very little money, but a whole lot of debt. So summer hits and as soon as I get home I hit the streets looking for a job. Problem is with the economy being as bad as it is, there are almost no jobs out there for me. While trying to figure out where to look next for a job, my younger brother tells me about this place in New Jersey that he and his friends saw when they came back from Wildwood. It was a company that let you go tubing down the Delaware River, I figured a job is a job and went to apply.

The drive from my house to this job is over an hour and fifteen minutes. I ended up getting the job though I didn't tell her I wanted to keep it a surprise. While it is an easy drive and a very scenic one at that, the area I drive through has a lot of reported accidents involving deer. I thought to myself that it can't be that bad, but I was terribly mistaken. Everyday I went and came back from work, there were at least two accidents. Every time I went to work I gambled losing my car and possibly my life. I went just about everyday they could give me and by the end of June I had earned around $750. I called her aunt and told her about my plan to come down secretly and she was very supportive of it so she agreed to help.

I didn't sleep the night of the flight since I had to get up at 5:00 a.m anyway. At 6:00 a.m, I boarded the flight from Philadelphia to Chicago and then from Chicago to Louisville. I was picked up at the airport by her aunt and taken to her house. She told me that she had Brianna go out and pick up a few things at the supermarket. When she dropped me off, and I went inside the house and waited for her to come home. I figured I'd leave the front door open a little so she didn't have to struggle with trying to get in while bringing in the groceries. I sat in the living room and I heard her car pull up. I got up and went to the front door. Little did I know that before my arrival, there were a few break-ins around the neighborhood and seeing the door opened, she feared the worse. As I went to surprise her, I'm hit in the head and back with a baseball bat. I woke up a few hours later in the hospital with her crying at my bedside. I grabbed her hand and asked why she was crying. She was really happy to see me awake and for the most part feeling better. She was very sorry for hitting me with the bat and I told her it was fine. After my short stay at the hospital, I spent the next three weeks with her and it was the best summer of my life.

 

[ayuri]

I was on the escapist today then i got a glass of milk.
The End
it is way too late for me and I don't want to type or read

 

[VonBrewskie]

This is a true story in case anyone actually reads this:

I'm dating this girl I met on campus for one year and three months as of today and she is an amazing woman. She's very intelligent, and because of this she changed schools. She moved to Louisville from a town in Pennsylvania to go the University of Louisville. While going to school there, she lived with an aunt and uncle who still lived in the area. She wants to be a forensic paleontologist and the University of Louisville has a much better program than my school.

Anyway, she moved about seven months ago and we missed each other very much. We would still keep in contact by phone and over xbox, but she really wanted me to come down and see her. This is difficult for myself because as a college student I have very little money, but a whole lot of debt. So summer hits and as soon as I get home I hit the streets looking for a job. Problem is with the economy being as bad as it is, there are almost no jobs out there for me. While trying to figure out where to look next for a job, my younger brother tells me about this place in New Jersey that he and his friends saw when they came back from Wildwood. It was a company that let you go tubing down the Delaware River, I figured a job is a job and went to apply.

The drive from my house to this job is over an hour and fifteen minutes. I ended up getting the job though I didn't tell her I wanted to keep it a surprise. While it is an easy drive and a very scenic one at that, the area I drive through has a lot of reported accidents involving deer. I thought to myself that it can't be that bad, but I was terribly mistaken. Everyday I went and came back from work, there were at least two accidents. Every time I went to work I gambled losing my car and possibly my life. I went just about everyday they could give me and by the end of June I had earned around $750. I called her aunt and told her about my plan to come down secretly and she was very supportive of it so she agreed to help.

I didn't sleep the night of the flight since I had to get up at 5:00 a.m anyway. At 6:00 a.m, I boarded the flight from Philadelphia to Chicago and then from Chicago to Louisville. I was picked up at the airport by her aunt and taken to her house. She told me that she had Brianna go out and pick up a few things at the supermarket. When she dropped me off, and I went inside the house and waited for her to come home. I figured I'd leave the front door open a little so she didn't have to struggle with trying to get in while bringing in the groceries. I sat in the living room and I heard her car pull up. I got up and went to the front door. Little did I know that before my arrival, there were a few break-ins around the neighborhood and seeing the door opened, she feared the worse. As I went to surprise her, I'm hit in the head and back with a baseball bat. I woke up a few hours later in the hospital with her crying at my bedside. I grabbed her hand and asked why she was crying. She was really happy to see me awake and for the most part feeling better. She was very sorry for hitting me with the bat and I told her it was fine. After my short stay at the hospital, I spent the next three weeks with her and it was the best summer of my life.

Ha! Awesome yo. Good story. Glad it worked out well for you. Did you keep her? Are you still with her? Also, if you could make a good story about how crazy it was for you to drive to this job you had I would be stoked. I'd like to hear more about that. I got hooked on the line "I was terribly mistaken" and didn't get a good catharsis. (A good follow-up that let me feel the emotions you felt as you drove to work, is what I mean. With all the deer and accidents you hinted at. Drama! Conflict! The essence of a good story. Build that part up more! A catharsis is an emotional relief or release, in case you didn't know what that meant! You build up tension in your story, then release it! It's fun! Makes people go, "damn! that was good!") The girl story is awesome! Good build up. Loved the whole idea that you drove through hell to make some funds to see her only to get clobbered by her and end up in the hospital. Terrible, but awesome! You know? Nice. Loved it. Would love to see a follow up if you have one.

 

[VonBrewskie]

That was alot easier to read than before =P It was an alright story, a little unbelievable at times, but its a story right? Also, you have a very odd writing style. Not bad, just odd.

Thank-you! Not sure if its a compliment exactly, but I'm going for "odd". I love to read stuff that's different; love China Mieville and Gene Wolfe for example. Anyway, thank you for the feedback. You gave me a good note! I don't post a lot of this kind of stuff on forums. I just got bitten by a writing bug and went with it. I appreciate your time!

 

[Jedamethis]

Welp, I've got the outline of the start of a story, kinda.

Spoiler: I thought most of this up while listening to Feathery Wings

Spoiler: First bit.

I Found the body, was bringing it in.
Yeah, definitely dead.

Felt something shift while flying back. Ignored it.
Unnerved me.

He wriggled, Startled me.
I dropped him.

Find him.
I dropped him somewhere in Europe I think. Maybe Germany? France? Somewhere around there.

What did he look like?
I don't know, I didn't bother looking closely, but he was white, and had longish hair.
It'll have to do. Find out who he is, why he died, and how the hell he came back to life.
Now. I am placing this entirely in your hands, I have to keep the rest of you running smoothly, and I can't be bothered by this as well.
Yes sir. But I may need some help.
Take whoever you want, but not too many people. We'd cause an uproar if they were seen...
I understand.

Spoiler: second bit

They found me in an alley, on the floor. I...don't remember anything before that. Amesia maybe? I don't know, I wasn't a doctor or anything then. When the man found me, I was bleeding, breathing my last on the cold stone.
Next thing I knew I was flying, wind whipping my hair, and I struggled. Scared of heights, I writhed in terror, and I was falling again. Again? I don't remember falling before. God I wish I could remember...

I woke up some time later, and it was bright. I felt the sun, warming me, filling me with new strength. I got to my feet, but had to sit down again, I had a huge headache...I went back to sleep again. But a calmer sleep.

The next day, I think, I was in a bed, and a woman was leaning over me. She was beautiful, long red hair tickling my face. That was the best memory I've ever had.

 

[Palademon]

Today I almsot broke down in tears at the thought of taking away some of my dead Nan's things. I didn't cry when she died over a month ago, even though I was there, at the hospital, when she did.

 

[YoBadMama]

One day, I had to fart, so I did. But it hurt a little

 

[Harlemura]

I was at Tesco with me mum earlier and she said I needed a new jacket. She picked one out and I thought it looked alright. So we got it.
Got it home, tried it on and my sister pointed out it looks alarmingly like a jacket Scott wears in several of the Scott Pilgrim books.
Now I'm worried that I've become subconsciously obsessed with everything Scott Pilgrim. I liked it before, but I don't know if I like it too much now.
Yeah, spooky.

That is seriously the best, true, recent story I can think of. Unless you all want to hear the amazing tale of my last go on Plants vs. Zombies.

 

[VonBrewskie]

Today I almsot broke down in tears at the thought of taking away some of my dead Nan's things. I didn't cry when she died over a month ago, even though I was there, at the hospital, when she did.

It's different to hold something of more permanence, something your Nan imbued with her essence and left behind, than it is to deal with the fact that Nan has died. Nan died, but these things are still here, reminding you. She is gone now, but this thing, these things she touched are still here. That doesn't add up. It's o.k. to be sad and cry or do whatever it is you do to let it go. I hope you're doing o.k. m'friend! Thanks for sharing that.

 

[VonBrewskie]

Welp, I've got the outline of the start of a story, kinda.

Spoiler: I thought most of this up while listening to Feathery Wings

Spoiler: First bit.

Found a body, bringing it in.
Yeah, definitely dead.

Felt something shift while flying back. Ignored it.
Unnerved me.

He wriggled, Startled me.
I dropped him.

Find him.

I dropped him somewhere in Europe I think.
What did he look like?
I don't know, I didn't bother looking closely, but he was white, and had longish hair.
It'll have to do. Find out who he is, why he died, and how the hell he came back to life.
Now. I am placing this entirely in your hands, I have to keep the rest of you running smoothly, and I can't be bothered by this as well.
Yes sir. But I may need some help.
Take whoever you want, but not too many people. We'd cause an uproar if they were seen...
I understand.
Then go.

Cool. Lots of places to go with this. Sweeeeeeet little seed idea, I think. Do you have an idea for a main character yet? Is this some kind of angel coalition or something? This is creepy and cool as hell. This could really go somewhere if you spent some time with it, I think. Dang. I want to see some more!

 

[Boneasse]

Well, here's the first chapter of a fantasy novel I'm working on. Beware, it's quite long though!

Of course the layout in the writing is different when you see it in a word document, but I can't be bothered to change the whole thing just for this!

Spoiler: Very long post ensuing!

[HEADING=2]Endoraia[/HEADING]​

[HEADING=3]Chapter I[/HEADING]​

The Orphanage​

'James, wake up! Breakfast's ends in ten minutes,' a distant voice echoed, from what seemed like miles away. The curtain in his window was forced to one side, as sunlight penetrated the small room. Hardly noticing, James rolled to the other side and pulled the blanket over his head to shield himself, groaning his displeasure.
'I said wake up, damn it!' the voice now barked as he received a sharp blow to the top of the head.
'Ouch, Fine! I'm up... You happy?!' James replied angrily as he sat up in bed, 'How's anyone supposed to be able to sleep when you're making this racket, Dom?'
'Well -,' Dominic replied with the flicker of a smile playing across his face, '- you're not, that's the general idea! It's already nine and you're running late for your meeting today!'
Scowling, James's face darkened as he started to realize what day it was. He eyed the chair to the right side of his bed hesitantly, but sure enough, there lay the old ragged suit he was supposed to wear for today's interview. He threw his legs out of the bed and onto the cold tiles, barely suppressing a shudder, as he looked around his small room.
It was not very big, around ten by six feet and very simple in its design and content. The wooden walls were painted in a dark marine-blue and the ceiling was white. Notable objects in the room were scarce too; containing only a bedside table with a small lamp upon it, a two-foot cupboard for his clothes, his body sized mirror, a small heater and a sink for washing.
Getting up, slowly, he walked to the sink and turned on the hot water. It felt warm and soothing to the touch as he formed a bowl with his hands and splashed it across his face. Feeling slightly refreshed, now wiping his face with a towel, he turned to face Dominic.
'Do I really have to?' he asked, his voice partially muffled by the towel, but still containing a note of plea.
Dominic smiled more warmly, as he noticed the tone in which James spoke. 'Yes, you have to. You know that. You all do. Even, if you don't want to. You should be happy that this might finally be the day!'
Fat chance, James thought as he stood up to put on his suit, No one ever picks me. It's been like this for the last fourteen years, so why would it change today? It's not like I even want it to. Looking into his body sized mirror, he started buttoning his white shirt, finding solace in his negative chain of thought.
'I know what you're thinking,' Dominic suddenly uttered, the smile on his face gone and a look of disapproval replacing it. 'That no one is going to choose you, right? It's like this with you every time James! You need to be on your best behaviour and don't think like that. You know you can't stay here forever.'
Eyeing Dominic's reflection in the mirror, James's spirits plummeted. He knew, as he had for the past four years, that he would eventually have to leave. But this was still the only home he had ever known. After his birth, his parents had suddenly disappeared leaving him alone to fend for himself at five weeks old. Had it not been for a neighbour complaining over the constant crying, to the police, no one would probably ever have found him. He would have died. However, this was not to be. The leading officer had dropped him off at his would-be home, where he had now lived these past fourteen years.
They had taken him in, fed him and cared for him. Or at least, as much as they could, considering he was not the only child in the mansion. For the first decade of his time there, James had had a proper upbringing with all that followed, almost, that is. He had laughed, played games, learned, cried and fought with the other children, until the vast majority of them at some point, were taken away. During some instances, starting at ten years old, James had realized that he was different from the other children. Before this realization though, he had speculated and asked questions. When was it his turn? Why had no one picked him yet? Questions the faculty were reluctant to answer. In time, after certain events, James concluded that he would probably never be chosen. Not like this.
No one is ever going to choose me. That's the truth, he thought to himself, - At least I realized that four years ago.

'There he is! Get him!' A boy's voice roared from across the courtyard to the tree, under which James was sitting.
Composed of a big square lawn, having a fountain surrounded by benches in the middle, and small tiled paths across the grass, the courtyard provided the perfect place to relax in the summer. Situated behind the mansion, with a path on either side of it, leading towards the entrance and a hedge running along the outer walls, this beautiful location helped to deflect from the fact that the grounds were surrounded by a ten-foot metal fence. In the south-eastern corner stood the giant oak which had provided James with a place to sit in the summer, for as long as he had been able to read. He was ploughing through a book about his favourite animal, the wolf. He had always been fascinated by the works of the wolves. The teamwork and camaraderie in a pack was most engaging. Diverting his attention from his book, curious as to what all the ruckus was about, James looked up. He then realized that the boy shouting, whom he identified as Simon, was pointing at him and that four other children were heading his way, hefting small rocks and wearing disconcerting smiles upon their faces. A shock of immediate horror went through James.
Simon was two years older than him and fairly big for his own age. He had a stone cold face and an air of sadness about him. When he or none of his friends were around, the other children usually referred to him as a depressed gorilla, because of his broad shoulders and long arms. All monkey resemblance aside though; he was tall, big and strong. James had seen him lift up a boy by the throat, with one hand, only to throw him two feet into the air. Things had changed since he had come to the Orphanage. No one played outside anymore.
But why's he pointing at me? He thought to himself as he stood up and closed his book. Ransacking his brains for any offence he might have caused, he paused to look down at his own scrawny body and tallness. Not exactly much of a threat.
He knew that Simon and his five goons, 'The Rats', some of which were just as bad as their leader, usually only beat up the ones trespassing on their so-called territory or annoyed them. They were unusually cruel to these victims. Thus, with no desire to sit there waiting to find out the cause of a possible beating, James dropped his book, stood up, and darted across the courtyard.
'Stop or we'll fire!' one of the boys yelled at James, as he ran.
Yeah right - thought James as he looked over his shoulder to see them aiming at him while running, - Like you weren't going to fire them at me no anyway. Running straight ahead, taking the path around the house farthest from the gang, James would try to reach the safety of the insides. He turned left around the corner of the big mansion's outer wall, as he heard stones impact where he had been moments before. Feeling slightly out of breath, he caught sight of the front entrance to the mansion. Having only one entrance or exit was not exactly beneficial in this particular situation. Though, as he got closer, James slowed, feeling the elation of safety course through his body.
I might not be much of a fighter, but at least I'm fa-.
James's knees impacted with the ground just before his stomach hit the surface and the forward momentum forced his face downward.
What the hell? He thought, as the smell of freshly mown grass and dirt reached his nostrils. Trying to stand up again, recovering from the momentary shock, James felt a sharp pain rise in his left leg. Out of breath and struggling to get up, he stand as he tried to locate the source of his abrupt fall. With a slight limp he turned around, only to find the sixth member of Simon's gang, Paul, facing him with a sluggish grin playing across his round face. James's attention was diverted to the stick in his right hand.
So he hit me in the hollow of my knee.
Just standing there, looking at James, Paul finally opened his mouth, pointed to his left and said, 'Hah! I got you good there, didn't I? We thought you might run, so I hid in the hedge there, waiting for you to run by!'
'Good plan,' James answered in mock admiration.
'The others are coming now.'
'I can't wait.'
As panic started to take over James's mind, the five other Rats came hurrying towards the two. What was he going to do? Options were limited at this point. He could fight, yell for help or try to flee. Before he had time to react to any of this though, the gang placed themselves in a circle with James and Simon in the middle.
'You, hah, shouldn't have, hah, run from us!' Simon panted violently, his brows furrowed and his face contorted with rage '- now you're gonna get it!'
'What have I done?' Asked James as his voice cracked, making him realize how fearful he sounded.
'What makes you think you've done anything?'
'If I haven't done anything, then why've you chased me all the way round the house? What do you want?'
Simon took a step towards James as he raised a fist to chest level, 'I wanna kick your ass.'
Looking up at the giant before him, James had never felt so scared in his entire life. Slowly a terrifying thought formed in his head;
I'm going to die... I'm going to die... I'm going to die!
He felt it through his entire body. The fear engulfed him like a, hungry python tightening its grip, his body shaking and fingers tingling because of the fear and adrenaline being released into his system. James thought of the other kids Simon had beaten two weeks ago. Having called Simon a "big bullying brute", after his toys had been broken, Albert had spotted a black eye and two bended ribs. Meanwhile, David, trying to defend his best friend, had shown up at the nurses' office with a broken nose and a big wound over his eyebrow - requiring four stitches. When asked what had happened, James knew the two had said they had fought each other instead of explaining about Simon. That was how scared they were.
With his mind lingering on those two, James came to the realization that he was not going to die. He was just going to get beaten up. Not that that was a much more satisfying outcome. Gathering the rest of his remaining, but rapidly weakening, courage he managed to ask another question;
'But if I haven't done anything, why do want to beat me up?'
At this question the Rats actually started laughing. So hard, that they had trouble stopping again. Finally as the laughter turned into chuckles, Simon answered him.
'Because you're a freak.'
There was no mistaking the tone in his voice as he uttered these words. It was a mixture of hate and loathing. The look in Simon's eyes had changed as well. It was no longer anger that dominated his features. It was a leering in his eyes and a taunting smile, more threatening than a look of rage.
The words struck James like a bullet, making him recoil a step backwards. The circle tightened around him.
Like wolves preparing to strike.
'I'm not a freak,' said James, uncertainty and astonishment creeping into his voice. 'What are you on about? I'm just like you.'
'You're nothing like us!' Simon replied through gritted teeth. 'You don't see any of us, walking around looking like that!'
'Like what?'
'Like that, you idiot!' said Simon as he pointed towards James. 'Why do you think you're still in this place, huh? Nobody wants to adopt an ugly freak like you! Haven't you realized that yet? You've been here for ten years now haven't you? What were you expecting to happen to you? Most of us are taken away within half a year. But not you, you're still here. Aren't you? Freak.' The gang started laughing again.
It took James several seconds to process what Simon just said. He had never thought about that before, but now that it was mentioned he recognized the truth in the words. He was not like the other children. Why had he never thought about that? He had always been different. Something, now that he thought about it, which was always apparent when playing with the other kids. They distanced themselves from him. A sort of fear of the unknown, marked by James's appearance. When they were not playing, the other boys rarely even talked to him in the first place. In class he nearly always worked alone and when in groups, he was always chosen last. Most apparent though, was the fact that the faculty were quick to dismiss him. All of them apart from, perhaps, the matron who had always seemed to care. But no one else ever really looked at him.
They all think I'm a freak.
While these thoughts passed through James's mind, the laughter around him stopped.
'What's with the silence, freak? Did it just dawn on you how right I am?'
'Don't call me a freak,' muttered James, looking down into the ground, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. Anger was now replacing fear, aided and worsened by the realization of truth in Simon's words.
'What was that?'
Looking Simon squarely in the face, James repeated himself 'I said don't call me a freak,' - the last word uttered with all the force he could muster.
Something about this sudden change in James's behaviour and expression made Simon take a step back, if not out of fear, than out of shock. Amazed though he might be, at the courage of this little shrimp, he recovered almost instantly;
'See what I'm talking about?' He grinned as he took turns to look at the gang's members, still standing in a circle around them, Simon's voice littered with glee. The others smiled back at him, anticipation in their eyes. 'You can't tell me what to do you little beansprout. If I want too call you something I'll do it. Freak... freak... freak...' he began chanting at a steady pace, when the others joined in. Now, all six of them were standing around James, yelling "freak", as they began closing in.
The inevitable beating was coming. He knew that. But he did not care at this point. James had closed eyes now. Blood was reddening the grass at his feet, slowly seeping from his palms, the skin fractured under the force of his clenched fists.
Pure hatred and rage coursed through his veins.
There was the sound of people clapping in tact, yelling something incomprehensive. Then, all outside noise suddenly faded. Hearing his pulse more and more clearly, it rose, eventually becoming so pronounced, it felt as if his eardrums were going to explode. The pressure of the one hundred and fifty beats per minute felt overwhelming.
Overwhelming, yes, but... still... it feels... slow...
Inhaling deeply, his breathing eased; time seemed to have slowed down. This curious sensation, however, left him with nothing apart from his miserable thoughts for company.
I can't take this anymore!
He opened his eyes, immediately spotting Simon standing right in front of him, about three feet away. It was as if the Rats moved in slow-motion as James looked around, noticing as he did, how he seemed to move slowly, like that, as well. It felt like turning his head, took days. He noticed how they all looked around at each other, grinning and beaming, glancing towards him with that superior look dominating their features.
James regained his senses and rage pushed aside the curiosity of this weird phenomenon when he remembered why they were looking at him like that. Time sped up to its normal pace and the pounding in his ears subsided, laughter once again echoing inside his head.
James had made his decision; I'm going to strike now!
Just as he was about to act on that impulse, however, Simon's head turned in his direction. Having already made his decision, James darted forwards, all of his attention focused on the enemy before him. They looked at each other for a split-second. A shock of mingled surprise and horror visible for an instant on Simon's face, only just preceding the impact it made with James' fist. He felt the bones against his knuckles. Then pain.
Everything went black.

'...- mes are you listening to me?' Dominic's voice interrupted, littered with impatience.
'What?' replied James in a trance like voice, the left hand hovering over his right hand's wrist, apparently trying to button a cufflink.
When did I finish buttoning my shirt?
'I said, breakfast is over in six minutes, so hurry up!'
'Yeah... Give me a minute,' James answered, as Dominic's voice brought him back to reality.
All the happy memories...
Bewildered by what had scared Simon like that, all those years ago, he placed his index and middle finger on the mirror and muttered to himself, 'If only it weren't for these damn eyes.'

 

[Zap Rowsdower]

Gather 'round, kiddies, and I'll tell you a story the likes of which haven't been heard of before.

I was hungry, so I decided to make a pizza. It wasn't until the sauce was on the bread that I realized there was no cheese! So I ate sauce on bread raw. I almost threw up.