Post by Xanthic Flower on Oct 1, 2005 16:45:21 GMT -6
Here's just part of a short story I did for one of my English classes....
“I get loneliest at night,” James said to me. We were sitting outside of the liquor store drinking stolen beer. It surprised me. No one from my new group of friends talked to me about how they felt, and I didn’t expect them too.
“...because at night,” James went on as he sat hunched over his beer, “I end up here.” He looked up at the neon sign with a look of regret on his face. I didn’t say anything.
“It’s impossible to be here without thinking about things. Like how much you’ve messed up your life,” he looked at me. His eyes were brimming with tears. It was hard to be sure, but they were. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea how messed up things are.”
I told him what I’d wanted someone to say to me for the longest time: “Hey, if you want to talk about anything, I’m here for you, man.” I hit him on the arm and took another sip of beer. My throat burned.
James smiled softly, but didn’t say anything right away. Then he said, “You’re miserable too. I see the way you smoke cigarette after cigarette. I see how you don’t eat, and I see you becoming just like the rest of us. But what I want to know is, why the hell did you pick us? Your friends are gone, so you decided to make some new ones. But why us?”
I wasn’t really sure. Why didn’t I just try to become friends with the overachievers?
“I knew you guys would accept me,” I told my beer.
“Anyone in this school would accept you, Conner, if that’s what you’re worried about. Look, it’s too late for me. It’s not too late for you. In the past year I gave up my future. You still have one.”
“Why are you telling me this,” I asked.
He sighed. “Because I don’t want you to end up like me.”
Tell me what you think.
“I get loneliest at night,” James said to me. We were sitting outside of the liquor store drinking stolen beer. It surprised me. No one from my new group of friends talked to me about how they felt, and I didn’t expect them too.
“...because at night,” James went on as he sat hunched over his beer, “I end up here.” He looked up at the neon sign with a look of regret on his face. I didn’t say anything.
“It’s impossible to be here without thinking about things. Like how much you’ve messed up your life,” he looked at me. His eyes were brimming with tears. It was hard to be sure, but they were. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea how messed up things are.”
I told him what I’d wanted someone to say to me for the longest time: “Hey, if you want to talk about anything, I’m here for you, man.” I hit him on the arm and took another sip of beer. My throat burned.
James smiled softly, but didn’t say anything right away. Then he said, “You’re miserable too. I see the way you smoke cigarette after cigarette. I see how you don’t eat, and I see you becoming just like the rest of us. But what I want to know is, why the hell did you pick us? Your friends are gone, so you decided to make some new ones. But why us?”
I wasn’t really sure. Why didn’t I just try to become friends with the overachievers?
“I knew you guys would accept me,” I told my beer.
“Anyone in this school would accept you, Conner, if that’s what you’re worried about. Look, it’s too late for me. It’s not too late for you. In the past year I gave up my future. You still have one.”
“Why are you telling me this,” I asked.
He sighed. “Because I don’t want you to end up like me.”
Tell me what you think.
