The cold, wet ground was even more uncomfortable today then it had been yesterday. Perhaps this was because of the sudden drop in temperature, whatever the cause, it was irritating. Laying there in the school field, staring at the sky, getting lost in the grey and white clouds of winter. Small flakes of snow beginning to fall to earth, threatening to cover the dead trees and hard ground in a fresh white powder.
Snow, stupid fucking snow. Cold, wet, uncaring about how it just lands on the ground. Nothing could be wished for more than for it to just go away. Instead, it decided to come down harder, big chunks falling to the ground staining the grunge of the jacket covering the headphones blaring sweet tunes deep into quivering ear canals. Music, the greatest escape.
It’s unsettling being the only outed gay kid in school.
Even more unsettling were the four upperclassmen standing in the tree line. All in a row and dressed exactly alike. Well as alike as they could be,each one unique and yet alike. Dark hoodies, baggy denim jeans, unkept shoes. Paranoid thoughts, drowned out the sound of the music. They were the same ones, who make empty threats as I walked by them in the halls. Calling out slurs and derogatory terms.
Adding to their so called self importance, each one carried the same rehearsed and quite dull expression on their face. The one where you wonder if the lights are on in the attic or if they were dropped one too many times as a child. Certain that one has to be the child or by product of a junkie whore. Putting all this ridiculousness aside, they were still not the type of men you would want to meet in a field after school, secluded or not, it was well advised to steer clear. A blood-thirsty look in their eyes, could be seen as they inched closer. They were just waiting for something to set them off, their voices growing louder and more in focus as they steadily grew nearer.. Then a realization hit, they were heading this way.
Jumping into the air, in a mild panic. The world started moving in slow motion. The man in the middle took off in chase, his body fluid and swift. He yelled out to the others as his jaw clenched, not turning to see how close, ducking into the tree line, trying for safty. The other three men took up a flanking position behind him acting as backup. As if knowing, the music pumping to the sound of fear thumping through the chest. The man in the middle raised his hands and clenched them into fists. Turning, our eyes met, our steps pounding the ground like a hammers echoing through the trees.
Tripping as feet prepared to jump over the branches, his fist quickly approached my face. The pain that came with it was unbearable. Every punch was like a speeding train running over a small animal, it was obvious he worked out. Struggling to concentrate on the defining sound of ringing. Itwas helping to drown out the pain, the gurgle of blood in the back of the throat, sliding deep and the gasp for air in between the hits. Deep breaths in and out as the attacker struck his prey with precision blows. The others arrived, warning and yelling, that someone had heard the cries into the woods.
The next few excruciating punches and the world slowly started to turn black and the noise in the background began to gargle and slowly fade away to nothingness, body unmoving. Lying there wondering, am I dead?
Snow, stupid fucking snow. Cold, wet, uncaring about how it just lands on the ground. Nothing could be wished for more than for it to just go away. Instead, it decided to come down harder, big chunks falling to the ground staining the grunge of the jacket covering the headphones blaring sweet tunes deep into quivering ear canals. Music, the greatest escape.
It’s unsettling being the only outed gay kid in school.
Even more unsettling were the four upperclassmen standing in the tree line. All in a row and dressed exactly alike. Well as alike as they could be,each one unique and yet alike. Dark hoodies, baggy denim jeans, unkept shoes. Paranoid thoughts, drowned out the sound of the music. They were the same ones, who make empty threats as I walked by them in the halls. Calling out slurs and derogatory terms.
Adding to their so called self importance, each one carried the same rehearsed and quite dull expression on their face. The one where you wonder if the lights are on in the attic or if they were dropped one too many times as a child. Certain that one has to be the child or by product of a junkie whore. Putting all this ridiculousness aside, they were still not the type of men you would want to meet in a field after school, secluded or not, it was well advised to steer clear. A blood-thirsty look in their eyes, could be seen as they inched closer. They were just waiting for something to set them off, their voices growing louder and more in focus as they steadily grew nearer.. Then a realization hit, they were heading this way.
Jumping into the air, in a mild panic. The world started moving in slow motion. The man in the middle took off in chase, his body fluid and swift. He yelled out to the others as his jaw clenched, not turning to see how close, ducking into the tree line, trying for safty. The other three men took up a flanking position behind him acting as backup. As if knowing, the music pumping to the sound of fear thumping through the chest. The man in the middle raised his hands and clenched them into fists. Turning, our eyes met, our steps pounding the ground like a hammers echoing through the trees.
Tripping as feet prepared to jump over the branches, his fist quickly approached my face. The pain that came with it was unbearable. Every punch was like a speeding train running over a small animal, it was obvious he worked out. Struggling to concentrate on the defining sound of ringing. Itwas helping to drown out the pain, the gurgle of blood in the back of the throat, sliding deep and the gasp for air in between the hits. Deep breaths in and out as the attacker struck his prey with precision blows. The others arrived, warning and yelling, that someone had heard the cries into the woods.
The next few excruciating punches and the world slowly started to turn black and the noise in the background began to gargle and slowly fade away to nothingness, body unmoving. Lying there wondering, am I dead?
Word Count: 609
I's/Me's/My's Used: Two I's
BTW, there is at least 1 'my' used and a few spelling errors. You should type this stuff into word first.
ReplyDeleteIt seemed like you simply deleted the I's and my's from sentences rather than find other ways around it or possibly you were just going for fragment sentences to enhance the mood?
Neither, you can ask anyone who has dealt with me in a RP setting. Me and Grammar are not friends. Was there a my? I must have missed it.
ReplyDeleteI'm just giving my opinion here, but the way this story is couched, it is severely affected by the lack of personal references granted by "I"s and "My"s... it seemed to dehumanize your subject, which I'm sure is the exact opposite of what you were going for. It made him seem like a feral wild animal... almost like how I imagine Tarzan would be. Apart from that, it was good. You really know how to turn a vivid phrase.
ReplyDelete