Fire DamageA Story by Julius Whimbird
At which a naive youth longs to stop "pretending" and for his "lover" to finally show him open affection. Story generated by a prompt.
All I do is make fire, a high schooler thought bitterly. He was seated in a desk located in the middle of the classroom, where all could see him. The boy was deep in thought, probably as far as his subconscious. However, his daydreaming was curtailed when a spit wad was lobbed at him via straw. It landed in his cocoa-colored hair, right on the back of his head.
“What the-?” he whispered to no one. He heard snickering and chuckles to his right. His teal orbs fell toward his offenders. “Collen?” the brunette muttered mournfully, eyeing his (only) best friend who was chuckling with the other students.
“Westerly Adams!” Westerly’s name was called. He turned his attention to the caller, Mr. Wells. “If you’d be so kind as to pay attention, then I won’t give you a detention.” The fifteen-year-old quickly removed the spit wad in his hair and focused on the science teacher’s lesson.
After class, Westerly met up with Collen King. “H-hey, Collen!” he nervously chirped to the jock. The older boy just scoffed at Westerly with a chip on his shoulder.
“What do you want, ‘loser’?” Collen asked, annoyed.
“I-I was wondering if you and I were still on tonight for studying at my place,” said loser queried with a shy smile.
“Tch, why would I hang out with a girly-boy like you?” Collen remarked boldly, impressing those around him.
“Don’t talk to me!” With that, the blond-haired jock turned and sauntered away, as did the others. Westerly wanted to cry. So what if he liked girlish things and took pleasure out of doing womanly activites? It’s what made him him.
The long-haired brunette scuttled solemnly to study hall, his last class of the day. He took out a composition notebook he always kept around. It looked ordinary on the outside but inside was anything but average. At the top of the page it read: Making Fire Rules.
He flipped through a few pages and continued his writing on a page with space left. He wrote: 2/9/11 " Don’t let attention stray from teacher, esp. Mr. Wells. When best friend betrays you, don’t try to talk to them. They’ll only push you away.
I feel like I’m teaching myself to make fire, more than actually preventing it, he pondered. The boy let out a hefty sigh and proceeded to write… At least I have Collen to confide in. No one can act like he can.
The bell rang and it was time for school to be out. Westerly took his notebook and other valuables to his locker. Others had swiftly gone and left the facility. Slothly, Westerly paced his things one-by-one, including his composition notebook. But it fell out of his bag without his knowing.
closed his locker and walked away.
The sixteen-year-old then spotted the notebook. Collen picked it up with a large hand and skimmed through it. He took note of the title and last entry. Oh, Westerly, if only there was any easier way to let you down, then you wouldn’t be suffering so much, he thought remorsefully.
Collen took out a pen and scribbled underneath Westerly’s last entry: REMEMBER THIS " you aren’t the only one. We are both making fire.
© 2012 Julius Whimbird
Added on April 24, 2012
Last Updated on April 24, 2012
AboutLet me introduce myself by giving myself the alias Julius Whimbird. I enjoy debating worldly issues and being enlightened by new ideas. I like to give out reviews that have constructive criticism in t.. more..