N/A

Not sure yet, just started... let me know what you think in terms of writing style, interest.... etc... any comments/suggestions let me know

The cool rain misted upon the street, revealing its inquisitive patterns and movements under the street lamps. It was a sheltering rain, as though it were washing away all of the hardships and troubles of the world and replacing them with a safe feeling of salvation. Nicolas often went for late night walks especially when the streets were quiet, the lights were off, and the neighbourhood had gone to sleep. It allowed him an isolation that he rarely obtained and he salivated for it. During these times, at two or three in the morning, Nick would ponder the most complex of ideas and thoughts, scrutinizing their every detail until they were all laid out in miniscule and coherent pieces.

            After lumbering his way to the local catholic school he sat down on the tree stump near the bike racks and allowed his mind to run rapidly. Obsessing over the events of his day, recalling the situations he encountered with his peers, he realised one thing, he was blatantly unhappy. He had collapsed into a surreal manner of functioning in which all of his actions were mechanized and robotic. It was if he had stepped out of the driver’s seat of his life and courteously relieved the controls to someone else. Where had his vigour for life gone? Why were all of his friends seeming to slowly abandon him, one by one losing interest. He used to be so ambitious, so well liked by his peers. What had gone wrong? Had he been plummeted into a further state of post-pubescent development where his brain was becoming more reserved and cynical? When suddenly it hit him. He was going to do something about it. In the morning his bags would be packed, his room would be empty, and he would be gone. He would disappear into the night like a convict on the run moving onto brighter horizons. Finding happiness was now his mission. He didn’t know how or what he would do considering he was the shallow age of 17 but he knew one thing, he was leaving and his life would never be the same. After meticulously pondering his new plan, Nick searched through his pocket and located a pink lighter, the health label vigorously ripped off. He lit up the cigarette and began his walk home, letting the tympanic rhythm of the rain dictate his steps.

            Quietly he opened the front door to his medium sized bungalow on the winded and twisted street. His mom and dad were aware of his late night disappearances. They had become accustomed to constant movements and sounds that were created in the twilight. Much to their dismay Nick had never truly been someone to sleep regularly. Both his parents eventually accepted this, so long as each and every morning they deemed it satisfactory. Recently, however, his mom and dad were complaining more frequently about their son’s behaviour saying things like, “It’s not normal for you to be walking around the streets alone. What if someone recognizes you and people begin to think you’re strange? People might get the wrong impression.” His parents always hinted towards the most unusual things, as if these were the things one does not speak about unless they’re a street-hooker, or a drug dealer. What made it worse was that they never revealed what they were truly insinuating but made sure they spoke with enough disgust and distain to ensure Nick would not question.

             All was kept in the dark and all was swept under the bed in this family. This was the type of family that should a problem arise no one will speak of anything and pretend as though it were inexistent. When Nick was younger he had hidden a playboy mag under his bed. Three days later he found it in the garbage bin. He was obviously aware that his parents had thrown it out since there had been no one else in his room. Despite both Nick and his parents knowing, neither one ever broached the subject.

            Once in the house Nick quickly climbed up to his room where he began gathering his things. His mind was bursting with excitement, boundlessly plotting the future to come. Never had he been more satisfied with an idea before. It was absolute. No doubts lay in his mind. He grabbed all of the clothes he thought essential, his hoodies, favourite shirts, underwear, pants, his lucky hat, shoving all of the items rampantly into the medium sized duffle bag. On top of his shelve in the closet was a tin jar; he reached for it and poured its contents onto the bed. To his name he had one hundred and twenty seven dollars and thirty three cents. This will have to do, he thought plunging the money deep into his pockets.

               After all of the clothing was packed he began to look for memorabilia that was important to take with him. After collecting a range of oddly shaped items he had a picture of himself his parents, a birthday card his grandma had given to him for his graduation, and antique looking coin. The packing was complete and he was ready to leave. As he reached for the handle on the door nick looked back at his room, taking in the experience as if it were the last time. He looked at the wall with the series of ticks used to measure his growth and at the worn out bed with the sunken in middle that he had had since he was a child and that was it. He opened the door to leave, fumbled down the stairs grabbed his coat and shoes and made for the front door. Sheepishly opening it, he stepped outside.

              The air was cool and crisp. Nick took a deep breath feeling the air reach the darkest stretches of his lungs. He was ready. He headed down the street, lit a cigarette, and began walking. Having no idea where he was going to go or how exactly he was going to get there was oddly comforting. It created a feeling of satisfaction as though his life was now in the unknown. From this point forward his routine was not carved into stone. He would wake up every morning curious as to who he would meet, what new experiences would envelop him, or where he would end up. The uncertainty of it all gave him a sweet pleasure. First, however, he was in need of a new pack of cigarettes, a coffee, and some sort of food as his stomach was growling with emptiness. Vigorously he changed directions towards the nearby corner store, his duffle bag shuffling alongside his leg as he walked.

It was now nearly four o’clock in the morning and the sky had a lighter more delicate persona to it. The sun would soon rise and it would be the start of a new day. Once Nick arrived at the local twenty four hour gas station he stammered as he searched for his wallet, pulling out a plasticised piece of identification with the name Ryan Forge plastered across the top. The picture was of a scruffy looking teenager with pimples across his face. Nonetheless it showed enough resemblance to Nick for the ID to pass. After entering the store he saw two trucker looking men standing by the coffee dispenser conversing in rough and rugged voices. Ignoring the men, Nick asked for a pack of blue Next regular. “Can I see some ID please?” asked the cashier.
“Yes I’ve got it right here,” said Nick handing the card over. When the man grabbed the card he looked detailing at it. It was as if there had been a splatter or stain on it and he was trying to figure out what the origin of the mess was. After looking up and down multiple times until he finally submitted, seeming to realise it wasn’t worth questioning further.

“Nine sixty please.” The man said slightly annoyed.
Handing over the money Nick became aware of the conversation taking place at the back of the store. They seemed to be enthusiastically discussing their mutual discontent for their job; lousy pay, unappreciative boss, unreasonably long travels. Nick’s eyes lit up with opportunity the moment he heard this. It would in fact be the perfect crutch to get out of town quickly if only he could get catch a ride with one of the men. The truckers looked to be in their mid-forties. One being very short and thick with noticeably dark arm hair and the other having a much softer aesthetic. He was slender and had a friendlier face, yet still obtained an air of intimidation. Both were wearing loose levi jeans and plaid undershirts covered by vests labelled Trans-delivery on the chest.  Clearly this was the name of the company employing the two men.

              As they went on discussing their destinations Nick listened intently. The shorter stalkier man was apparently headed out East near the coast and the skinner to a town called Burswood. It was quite difficult to decrypt the contents of their conversation without it being blatantly obvious Nick was eavesdropping so he wandered over to the magazine aisle where he picked up a copy of Health Today. Flipping through the pages periodically Nick craned his head to get a better listen. The store owner looked suspiciously at him.
“Yep, I’ve got a three day journey ahead of me. Haven’t seen the family in weeks and the wife’s giving me hell for it,” said the short man.
“It’s not right how much they make us work. They’re cutting budgets by using less workers, it’s just unfair. I’m getting back from a delivery and now their sending me away for a week plus,” the man sighed deeply. “Anyway, one day we’ll live like kings I’m sure. ‘Til then we’ve got to keep our heads up in the rat race.”
The two men exchanged a laugh as they began heading towards the door. Nick felt compelled to approach them but his nerves were holding him back. What if they say no? What if they laugh at him? Reluctantly, Nick forced himself forward.
“Sorry I couldn’t help but overhear you guys are travelling out of town. I’m actually hoping to leave. Is there any way I could catch a ride with one of you two?” Nick clasped his hand, digging his nail into his thumb in nervousness. The men were perplexed, not knowing what to say. They looked at each other.
“Sorry son, I’m headed three thousand miles east. I won’t even be returning here. After that I’ve got to go back to Trans-delivery head courters to return the truck,” said the short man.
“That’s fine!” said Nick anxiously, “Anywhere but here. I’ll stay quiet and I promise I won’t bother either of you.” Nick felt the store owner eavesdropping and he could feel the anxiety and embarrassment causing his face to turn red. He looked desperately at the slender man.
“Son, aren’t your parents looking for you? You can’t be more than sixteen and you want to travel thousands of miles away from home?”
“I’m nineteen,” Nick lied, “and I don’t live with my parents. They’re foreigners and moved back to Germany when I was seventeen. I just need a ride; I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
The men frowned almost with pity, pausing for a moment the short man retorted blankly.
“I can’t give you a ride, I’m sorry. Company policy dictates no hitchhikers or passengers are allowed to accompany the drivers unless they are also an employee of Tran-delivery. There’s nothing I can do.”
“I’m in the same boat. Sorry son, if I could. I would.” And with that the two walked off and out the door, looking straight ahead so as to avoid any further conversation with Nick. Feeling discouraged Nick wandered to the back of the store, grabbing his favourite bag of chips, and brought them to the counter.
“Looking to escape something?” asked the cashier.
“Something like that.”
“That’s pretty dangerous man. You shouldn’t go around asking people for rides, never know who you’re going to end up with, know what I mean?” said that cashier handing Nick his change.
“Yea I got an idea. Thanks,” said Nick making his way to the entrance of the store. Once outside, he looked around. The truckers were exchanging packaged items through the back of their trucks. Briskly, the short man used the ramp to drag down a large covered item. With much effort he wheeled it over to the slender gentlemen’s truck where they both began heaving it up the steep ramp. Nick eyed the unoccupied truck curiously. The back was open and he began to feel the overwhelming urge to sneak his way into the open doors. What was back there? What were these men delivery? The urge was building within Nick. With every passing moment the dark abyss of the truck was calling his name, inching him closer and closer until he was at the entrance. Unable to see the contents that lay beneath the shadowy gloom, Nick looked over at the two men clearly exchanging last goodbyes. Without a moment’s thought he had submitted to his desire and climbed the step ladder up the three feet and was huddled near an array of blanket covered items. Moseying his way through the oddly shaped items he kneeled in a space cornered by two of the largest pieces and hid.

            The short and dark haired man returned. Grunted as he lifted the ramp and slipped it back into its rightful place. He shut the doors to the truck and with a large bang seeming to have barricaded the entrance. Nick was trapped inside, totally vulnerable to those unknown who would eventually unhinge the doors once again. He was now confined to the dark tiny space that he had made his hiding place. With less than four feet of usable moving space he had to stay still. The engine ignited and Nick felt the rumbling vibrating at his feet. With a large jerk forward it was clear they were moving. Where would they end up? Nick wondered. And what would be the result when he was discovered in the confines of this truck.

            The wind was whisking its way into the truck, likely through a small whole or gap on the exterior. They had been driving for hours without a stop, the smell of the air wincing its way to Nick’s nose. He was tired and most of all thirsty. How much longer would they be driving, and when would Nick finally be able to escape out of the very place he thought would save him. The time cascaded onwards not revealing the duration of their trip. This was what Nick wanted. He desired the unconventional, the unorthodox, the less traveled road, but why had he craved for this so. In all honesty, he himself did not know. He didn’t know much actually nor did he understand his own actions better than anyone else did or better than any psychologist could explain. He was unwritten.

            As the hours slipped by Nick could feel the heat of the sun bearing down on the truck, although the inside was still covered with a blanket of darkness. The air was humid, hot and stuffy. A few times Nick let out large whoops of coughs desperately attempting to expel the dust that had accumulated near him. Soon, it seemed they were slowing down. He could tell by the patterns of turns and stops that they had arrived in a much more suburban area. Eventually, they had come to a complete halt in their journey. It was obvious by the sinfully delectable smell of gasoline that they were at a gas station once again. Nick heard a man and a women, presumably girlfriend and boyfriend, bickering over meeting one of their parents.
“Alyssa, they’re nice people, truly. Last time was just bad timing, they hadn’t expected you,” said the boyish voice.
“Oh come one Ron they hated me. You said it yourself they’d rather have you dating a German girl,” she hollered.
“They’re just set in their ways. They’re foreigners, you know. Of course they’d want me dating someone of their country but that doesn’t matter to me. I love you and they’ll just have to live with it. I promise you they’ll get used to the idea.”
Nick got up curious to hear more of the conversation that had grabbed his attention. His legs were ruthlessly numb. He stretched them vigorously, and walked to entrance of the truck. He meandered his way to the entrance of the truck, wondering whether the handle on the door would prove functional. He pulled the latch. He pushed and pushed, even slammed his weight into the back of the truck to see if it would budge but no such thing occurred. Giving up Nick sat back down. The couple’s conversation at the pump next to them had stopped. Two car doors had shut and he heard them drive off. Taking a deep breath Nick pulled one of the covers off of the packages in the truck. He slid his fingers across the top of the item. It was rugged and was made of wood. A small sliver snuck its way into Nick’s finger causing a drop of blood to leak outwards. He removed the tiny piece of wood and pressed his finger to his lips. Sitting back down, he laid the thick cover across the floor and crawled onto it, pulling half of the blanket over his side. With that he began to feel very tired. The world slipped away. He was asleep.

Author's Note

Okay so I'm just curious to what people's interpretations of this are. How interesting it is? Easy to read or did you have to force yourself? Also, given what you've read so far would this be something you'd be interested in reading further? Please rate it on a scale of 1 to 10. And ALSO if anyone has any suggestions as to where they would like to see this story go please feel free to leave them!!! I kinda just started writing on a whim and dont know what to make the storyline into... im thinking either someting really dramatic or him on the pursuit of happiness and ultimately learning about life. I'm not sure yet.

Reviews

[AK]

Amazing piece! I really liked it! It flows oh so perfectly and the wording is brilliant! The first line gripped on to my attention:)
Your vocabulary is fabulous, it does wonders to this piece! Keep writing!
~AK

[words a la carte]

Hm. Interesting, I definitely care about what happens to Nick next. Your paragraphs were a little distracting though because they were so long. Personally, I would go in and break them all up. You can't have a paragraph that's too short, but it's sometimes hard to keep on track with a long paragraph because the subject tends to change.

[branden]

please review!!!