Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Untitled

This is my near last revision of the story I wrote for intermediate creative fiction. I'm still trying to think of a title.

Josh focused on his breathing, a skill he'd picked up over the years to deal with stressful situations. Sitting next to a girl he might have been in love with, a tie constricting his neck with a too tight white dress shirt underneath it was stressful enough, never mind being at your best friend's funeral. Josh mulled that over in his head. He was at his best friend's funeral. He wondered if people would fault him for not using the past tense yet. Kyle was still his best friend even if they would never see each other again.

His invitation had been swiftly delivered. Only two days since they had found his body laying cold and solitary on his bed. The story had been relayed through Josh's mother. She told him with tears in her eyes how Kyle's mother had gone to tell him he was late for school when she found him. Josh's mom had held him close after she had let the news out. Her own tears for the loss she was sure her son must have felt swarmed onto Josh's shoulder, soaking through the fabric and chilling his skin.

That morning, while Josh was getting ready for the funeral, his mother, who was helping him look his best, told him he was too young to have to attend a funeral. Josh kept his mouth shut, knowing that bringing up how when she was fourteen, two years younger than him, she had to attend his grandfathers funeral after he passed away would replace her sympathy with something more akin to sorrow or anger. As soon as she had finished moving the lint roller down the last portion of his pants Josh rushed out the door. He stepped into his beat-up sedan and raced towards the funeral home. He fiddled with the stereo most of the way there, debating whether listening to music at a time like this was appropriate.

He arrived five minutes earlier than the time that had been passed along to his mother. Reaching down to tie his shoes one more time Josh debated if it was okay to head in now or not. Eventually he decided early was better than late for this sort of thing. Walking in he found himself to be one of the last ones expected and was rushed along to the large room where the event was taking place. It was what would have popped into Josh's head if someone had mentioned a room where a funeral might take place. It was painted a color just a little off of white and had a smell reminiscent of potpourri. Large windows lined one long side of the room but were covered with thick curtains letting only the slightest amount of light through. The highlight of the room was at the front, a low height podium and an open coffin just barely obscuring the view of who was inside. A low murmur filled the room from the large amount of individuals sitting solemnly. Josh quickly surveyed the area looking for a suitable place to sit. The back rows were empty but he felt sitting there would draw too much attention. A quietness fell over the room and it appeared to Josh that the ceremony was about to begin. He quickly took the closest seat to him, landing in the last seat in the front row.

Next to him sat a blond girl just a few years older than him. She was Kyle's sister Catherine, and even at a funeral her body made the dress she was wearing seductive to Josh. It was a deep black and seemed to be left over from some previous event where the amount of skin it showed was acceptable. The neck of the dress dipped perilously close to the crease of her breasts and it's lower portion stopped so just enough thigh was visible to drive Josh crazy. He scrunched himself away from her knowing that if he touched her flesh his mind would drift off and never come back. He held his breath for a moment and than began to focus on a slow rhythm of inhale-exhale. While Josh centered his mind a man stood up at the front of the room and began to speak from behind the podium. The man began a speech about life and death and how all good things must come to pass and Josh averted his eyes. Josh knew that the man (who he assumed from the white collar pressed around his neck was a Priest of some sort) had given the same words of comfort too many times from the stoic look on the Priests face and his numbness in his voice.

Josh refused to listen to him say these things about someone he had never even met and averted his gaze towards the other members of the room. He made sure to avoid the allure of Catherine as he studied those around him. It was quickly apparent that he and Catherine were the only ones in the room under twenty-five. The men in the room were nearly identical, matching suits, clean shave, with dark hair and a large forehead. For a moment Josh entertained the idea that in the past large foreheads may have been used to crack nuts. He shook himself out of his fantasy when he noticed the women in the room. They were sitting with their heads bowed in what would have looked like a silent prayer if not for the handkerchiefs pressed to their faces, their sobs.

With nothing left to look at and the Priest showing no signs of finishing Josh's eyes landed on the coffin he had been avoiding glaring at. On top of it sat a picture of Kyle. A frozen memory of him. A school picture; he wore a polo shirt and smiled in a way that only Josh knew was fake, lips curled slightly upward to show his near perfect teeth. When he really smiled his mouth opened wide and you could see his tongue wiggling. Josh couldn't shake the feeling that this all wasn't happening. That he was having a bad dream, in some sort of strange coma or that he had been the one that had actually died. He imagined that if it wasn't he would have been angry, or crying, or doing anything besides sitting quietly and waiting for a man he didn't know to finish talking.


Josh had met Kyle in the third grade, when they were eight and the world seemed to stretch no further than their small town of Winthrop. It was the year of Josh's first major crush on a girl, the year he farted in the middle of class but no one knew it was him, and the year when his mom first grounded him for swearing. Kyle and he had often reminisced about this time of their lives, about how stupid they had been and how the girls they liked, Katie Adams and Allie McCormick, were now “bitches they hated” (Josh would never admit that he still smiled whenever he passed Katie in the halls.)

They had made other friends but over the years they had all become distant, either because their families had moved away and the oaths to always be friends full flat, they got into some fight that none of the parties involved would ever recall out loud, or they just fell apart. The two of them managed to stick together through it all. They were always on the same sides in fights and were lucky that their parents had steady jobs in downtown Winthrop so they never had to move. They'd gone through the awkward stages of puberty together, each trying to one up each other at everything important. In seventh grade, when Josh heard Kyle had felt up a girl in one of the less used bathrooms during lunch he made it his goal to lose his virginity before Kyle. He failed.

One day Freshman year Josh and Kyle were sitting in Josh's basement, spending their afternoon in front of a T.V. Josh had picked up at a thrift store along with a VCR half-watching comedy movies. The basement was sparsely decorated, the walls were gray concrete and besides the dusty, ancient couch Josh had begged his parents to let him take downstairs the only decoration was a washing machine. Occasionally the T.V. would start to get fuzzy and Josh would get up and give it a smack. “Stupid piece of shit,” Josh said before sitting down on his side of the couch opposite from Kyle.

“Hey man, guess what?” Kyle said.

“What?” said Josh, quietly excited. Kyle rarely took the time to lead in to any of his stories with him unless they were particularly interesting.

“You know me and Danielle, right?” Kyle and Danielle had been dating for three months, and although this meant that Josh had to sit through moments where they were off on their own adventures he didn't mind her company and usually allowed Kyle to bring her along when they did anything together.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well last night her parents weren't home so she invited me over.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah, and well, we did it.” Josh looked over at Kyle and noticed the smug expression on his face.

“No fucking way?”
“Totally.” Kyle spent the rest of the afternoon describing the details to an eagerly listening Josh. Even as the movie ended and the screen turned fully to static they sat talking on the stained couch. Kyle described how they had been making out on her bed when he began to slide his fingers under her skirt. He had touched her gently and rubbed her small breast through her tank top with his other hand. Despite the fact that she had told him the day before that she wasn't ready for sex yet, she removed her underwear and began pawing at the zipper on Kyle's jeans. He described how it felt as he plunged inside of her again and again until they were both exhausted. While Kyle filled him in on all the pleasures he had discovered he pressured Josh to find a girl of his own.

“It's awesome. You gotta try it.”

“Fuck you, like I haven't been trying.”

Danielle and Kyle broke up two months after that. She began dating Sam, one of their old friends from third grade. There seemed to be no hard feelings at first, things progressed with Josh and Kyle as they always had. After a few weeks however, Kyle seemed to be more depressed than before. Josh tried to set him up with other girls and he was more than happy to try, but he seemed inconsolable. Time seemed to be the thing he needed and Josh tried to give it to him, until one day a few more weeks after. He had been walking down the hallways at school towards English class when he heard some girls giggling. He had always been distracted by that noise and slowed down to get as much as their conversation as he could and he noticed it was Danielle and some of her girl friends. Although they spoke softly and privately he managed to make out the words “Josh” and “has a cock smaller than a hamster” come from the mouth of Danielle.

For the first time Josh knew what rage felt like. He sat in English class and refused to pay attention. Instead he needed some way to avenge his friend without letting Kyle know what they had laughed about. The next day Josh skipped last period and waited behind a near by 7-11 that he knew Sam walked by on his way home. He waited patiently and pressed himself up against the stone wall next to a dumpster, watching other kids walk by. None of them seemed to notice him. As he spotted Sam walking by he quickly darted out. With his headphones on and turned up so loud that Josh could hear them there was no way he could have known he was coming. Josh took the first swing he had ever thrown in his life at the back of Sam's head. Sam fell to the ground fast and with a thud. Adrenalin pumped through Josh as he pulled his leg back and gave him a hard kick to the ribs. A grin appeared over Josh's face and he kicked him once more before bolting from the scene as fast as he could. When he finally made it home he caught his breath and began to process what he had done. He surprised himself at how at peace he was with it. He knew he had hurt Sam, and probably bad, but he felt it was justified in a way he couldn't describe.

Sam didn't come to school the next two days. When he did, he clutched his side every so often. Josh listened to the gossip echoing through the social circles at school and it didn't seem like anyone knew Sam had gotten hurt. Josh reasoned with himself that it would probably hurt Sam's reputation if he went around telling people he had gotten sucker punched outside a convenience store, and felt content that he had gotten away with it. For days he toyed with the idea of telling Kyle what he had done, that he had been avenged, but he could never find a way to say it that wouldn't hurt Kyle in some way. Eventually he dropped this idea and decided it would be his own prideful sin. Josh figured that since Sam had kept it so under wraps that Kyle wouldn't even believe him but every time Kyle called him a pussy Josh brought to mind the image of Sam clutching his side on the ground.

Time passed and without fanfare the end of Josh and Kyle's junior year grew close. Few memories were able to reach deep enough inside of Josh to stay with him the way the day with Sam had. Both Kyle and Josh had obtained a few short term girlfriends and their private explicit conversations had no longer been one sided. They had gotten drunk together for the first time at a party Josh's older brother had thrown. Although they didn't remember much, the puke stain on the couch in the basement served as a constant reminder. Kyle had bought a bong off a senior at the school who was afraid his mom would find it when they went off to college. They spent their days in a smoke filled basement laughing constantly at small jokes that played on the new T.V. and DVD player Josh had managed to collect over the years. They spoke about college and what they would do past that. Josh had no doubt at the time that the two would grow older and their children would one day be friends like they had been.

Josh noticed the priest had finished his speech and snapped his attention towards him. “Now,” the priest began in a low and respectful voice, “if you would like, you may file out and view Kyle” Josh hesitated, waited until everyone else in the row had stood. He wish he could wait until everyone else had gone by, until he could have a moment alone with Kyle, give him the respect he deserved, but instinctively went along with the others sitting in the front with him. He noticed most of the women stopped to stare the body for a moment before bursting into tears again, the only exception being Catherine who took in one glance and walked away without changing the expression on her face. Josh shook away Kyle referring to his sister as “The incredible she-bitch” and took his turn. Looking at Kyle's face flowed back into his head all the times they had spent together. All the times they had shared some event like a birthday or failing the same test and even the times they had spent all weekend doing nothing together and loving it. He wished desperately that he could tell Kyle something that would help everything make sense but no words came to mind. Instead he shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried his way out into the reception area.

Tables were lined with small snacks, people were making small talk. Josh was unprepared to have to talk with people. He picked Catherine out of the crowd and made sure to avoid her glance as he hurried towards a platter of cheese on toothpicks. He shoved one in his mouth and stared around the room. He didn't recognize most of the people in the room or those shuffling in. Kyle's mother and father were there with Catherine, and Josh assumed that most of the others were close family members too. Josh's mom had mentioned that they were keeping the funeral small and to not invite anyone else from school, even though Josh wasn't sure he could have found anyone to come who wouldn't have just been there out of respect. By the time everyone entered, the room was filled with about thirty people conversing with each other while Josh hung back by the food, stuffing his face so he wouldn't have to talk with anyone who might come up to him. While eying up a plate of miniature sandwiches Josh noticed another picture of Kyle. It was from before he and Josh had met. Kyle was on a swing set smiling, mouth filled with teeth. He looked like he was about to jump off, the excitement was almost overtaking him.


Near the end of their junior year Kyle had dropped a bombshell on him. “Catherine thinks you're cute.” He said in between alternating mouthfuls of chips and smoke.

“Really?” Josh asked, “How do you know?”

“She said so.”

“Wow.” Josh managed to squeak out. Catherine had been his second major crush and he had never let Kyle in on that little secret, figuring it was better left forgotten.

“Don't get any bright ideas you fucker, she's my sister.” Kyle shot Josh the best dirty look he could with his half-glazed over and bloodshot eyes.

Josh had been caught up in his own little fantasy. He imagined Catherine in an outfit of white lingerie, laying on her bed and beckoning him to take her. Upon hearing Kyle call him a fucker he snapped out of his trance. “Maybe I'll be your new brother!” He joked, jabbing Kyle in the ribs slightly.

“I thought you had better taste in women than that.” Despite his teasing language, Josh felt this was a touchy subject for Kyle and let it drop. That night Josh fell asleep to dreams of Catherine.


Three weeks had passed and Josh felt it was time that the joke continue. Although it was a near daily routine Josh still asked Kyle every day if he was going to come over. He made his way to Kyle's locker where he was putting a few last minute things away before the final period of the day.

“So chill after school today?” Josh asked.

“Sure man,” Kyle answered “I could use it today.”

“Maybe we should chill at your house. If your sister is home maybe I can work on making you an uncle.” The widest smile imaginable spread across Josh's face as he contained his laughter.

“Man, fuck you.” Kyle said slamming the door of his locker close.

“Aw man, come on.”

“Fuck off man.”

“Whatever!” Josh had never seen Kyle been so touchy on a subject. Usually he would stay mad about something for a few days and then start taking it as a joke. He figured Kyle would need a few more days and then they could laugh about it. Josh spent the night stuck to his couch alone, and with no one to share his time with, went to bed early.

Josh had gotten about forty five minutes of sleep when his phone began to ring loudly and jerked him awake. He stared at his caller ID for a few moments as his eyes adjusted to the light shining from it. It was Kyle. “What the fuck does he want?” Josh murmured under his breath as he picked up the phone. “Hello?” he offered.

“Hey dude,” answered Kyle, elongating the “e” at the end of “dude”

“What's up? This better be fucking important.”

Kyle gave a hearty laugh. “Nah man, it's not. I just wanted to apologize about acting like a bitch today.” Kyle's voice sounded like it was coming from far away for a reason Josh couldn't put his finger on.

“It's cool.”

“So are we chill?”

“Yeah, we're chill.”

“Cool” The phone drifted off into silence for a few moments.

“Well, I'm going back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“I'll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Kyle's voice hesitated for a few seconds, “I'll see you later.” The next morning Josh's mom had picked him up at school during first period, she managed to hold in her tears until they made it home and she told him the news.

“Kyle took some pills last night” she said, “they didn't make it in time. He,” She choked on her own words. “He passed away.”



Kyle's Mom approached Josh. “I'm so glad you could make, dear.” She gave Josh a hug and pulled his limp body close. Josh felt weird, he didn't deserve that closeness, but he knew he couldn't resist. “I know Kyle would be so happy to have you here.” Her tears dripped onto the back of Josh's jacket.

“I'm glad I could be here,” he offered as she let go and gave him a smile that seemed to stretch muscles in her face that had grown weak from disuse. She turned to walk away and suddenly Josh felt his eyes begin to well up. He dashed outside and sat on the steps that led down from the building to a sidewalk next to a busy street. He tried to focus on cars flying by but couldn't see them well through his tears. He looked up toward the smoky clouds, watched as they drifted across the sky. He thought back to the day when he kicked Sam in the ribs and wondered if Kyle had any idea it had happened. He dried his tears on his sleeve, kicked the step with his heel and headed back inside. He had to decide who he would tell first, Kyle's mother or Catherine.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Ringing

Written as my first actual short story for Intermediate Fiction.


Warning, very long.


Josh focused on controlling his breathing. A trait he had picked up over the years to be able to deal with situations like this. It was difficult to accomplish keeping it steady and soft as the tie around his neck was constricting the already too tight white dress shirt underneath. Sweat dripped down his forehead and landed on his pressed suit, the summer heat with the added warmth of his layers of clothes was almost unbearable. He sat in the front row of the sparsely packed funeral home, so close to the body that he swore that he could smell the chemicals that had been used to preserve it for the ceremony.

Out of place” Josh thought to himself. He didn't belong here. The man who lay in well lined wooden coffin that would be his bed for eternity was not his brother or his son. His mother had remarked before he left that he was much too young to have to attend a funeral. She meant it in a solemn way (she herself had attended her father's burial when she was twelve, more than four years younger than Josh) but he had taken it as a blow to his heart. Instead of feeling grief, anxiety was all that built in him as he drove his aged car. When he arrived he stepped out and took a moment to straighten out his freshly dry cleaned but two year old suit and check his watch. He was five minutes early. Josh didn't know much about funerals and took a moment to decide if he should go in or not. He managed to take a seat just as the ceremony was starting. He was slightly relieved by this because he didn't have to share any possible awkward conversations with the people who had gathered.

Josh finally had gotten his breathing under control and took the moment to glance around the room. There was a man standing at an altar a few feet away from him looking very stoic. He had been instructed in what to say by the family before hand and did not even have to try during his speech to keep the same tone of voice he had used when giving hundreds (“Maybe thousands.” Josh thought) of similar speeches to other grieving friends and families. To his left sat a girl, just a few years older than himself. Her make up, flowing, well kept, blond hair and choice of dress made Josh attracted to her even as she wept. The short skirt she had chosen for the occasion may have been inappropriate by her families standards but no one had scolded her for it and her thoughts were on the other topics. Josh had to make sure her bare thigh didn't brush against his, he knew if it did his teenage mind would drift away to a place it shouldn't be right now. He casually moved himself away from the seductive skin and used it as an opportunity to steal a look behind him.

Despite the many rows that filled the blank canvas of the room to its back only the first three were filled. Josh had considered sitting in one of the empty rows briefly, but didn't want to draw more attention to himself than necessary. Besides the girl sitting next to him he was the only one here under the age of twenty-five and he felt it. The men were nearly identical. Matching suits with clean, shaved faces that all shared the similar characteristics of dark hair and large foreheads. For a moment Josh entertained the idea that in the past large foreheads may have been used to crack open nuts and so forth before realizing that even thinking something like that at this moment was a taboo in itself. The women were equally similar to each other. They sat with their heads bowed in what would have appeared to be a silent prayer if not for the handkerchiefs pressed to their faces and the sobs that emanated from them, providing background to the speech that was still being presented. Without realizing it Josh turned his head to the right and began staring at the window. He had chosen this seat because it was the only one open when he arrived but found it now allowed him a brief moment of escape. He yearned to see what was outside but thick curtains held the light out except for the barest shimmer at its edges. Although he knew that the other people in the room were distracted and even if they did see him glancing away from everyone would take it as a sign of grief, a possible hiding of tears, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow disrespectful.

Finally he turned his head back forward towards the coffin. Sitting on top of it laid a picture of the person inside of it. A frozen memory of him. It was a school picture and he was wearing a polo shirt and smiling in a way that only those close to him knew was fake. His lips were curled slightly upward to show his near perfect teeth, but when he really smiled his mouth opened wide and you could see his tongue wiggling. Josh couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't happening, that it was all just a dream. He imagined that if this was really happening he would be crying and screaming and wanting to hurt someone instead of sitting there quietly waiting for the ceremony to end. He might have not believed it if he hadn't seen the body as he walked to his seat. Kyle laid inside it, perfectly still with closed eyes and the same polo shirt on. Not even a fake smile for the camera broke his face.

Josh had met Kyle in the third grade when they were eight and the world to them seemed like it stretched no further than their home town. Josh remembered the year vividly as the year of his first major crush on a girl, the year he farted in the middle of class loudly but no one knew it was him, and the year where his mom first grounded him. Kyle and him had often reminisced about this time of their lives, about how stupid they had been and how the girls they liked, Katie Adams and Allie McCormick, were now “bitches they hated.” They had made other friends but over the years they had all become distant, either because their families moved away and the oaths to always be friends fell flat, they got into some fight that none of the parties involved could remember, or they just fell apart. The two of them stayed together though.

They went through the awkward stages of puberty together, each trying to one up each other at everything that was deemed important. When Josh heard Kyle had felt up a girl in one of the less used bathrooms during lunch when they were in seventh grade he made it his goal to lose his virginity before Kyle. He failed at this during their freshmen year of high school when one day after school Kyle came over to hang around in his basement. They sat in front of a T.V. that he had picked up at a thrift store along with a VCR half watching comedy movies. Occasionally the T.V. Would start to get fuzzy and Josh would get up and give it a smack. “Stupid piece of shit.” Josh said before sitting down again.

“Hey man, guess what?” Kyle said slightly turning his head towards Josh.

“What?” said Josh, quietly excited. Kyle rarely took the time to lead in to any of his stories with him unless they were particularly interesting.

“You know me and Danielle, right?” Kyle and Danielle had been dating for the past three months, and although this meant that Josh had to sit through moments were they were off in their own separate world he didn't mind her company and usually allowed Kyle to bring her along during their hang out sessions.

“Yeah man, of course.”

“Well last night her parents weren't home so she invited me over.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah, and well, we did it.” Josh looked over at Kyle and noticed the smug expression on his face.

“No fucking way?”

“Totally man.” They spent the rest of the afternoon going into intimate details. Even as the movie ended and the screen turned fully to static they sat talking on the stained couch. Kyle filled him in on everything he could and pressured Josh to find a girl of his own.

“It's awesome man. You gotta try it.”
“Fuck you, like I haven't been trying.”

Danielle and Kyle broke up two months after that. She began dating Jake, one of their old friends from third grade soon after that. There were no hard feelings at first but after awhile Josh could tell Kyle was still down about it after a few weeks. His attempts to find new girls for Kyle to take his mind off it wasn't going so well. He knew he had to do something. One day he skipped his last period and waited behind a near by 7-11 that he knew Jake had to walk by on his way home. If he remembered right Danielle couldn't walk with him because she always had dance practice on Wednesday. Josh waited slowly, watching other kids from his high school walk by. None of them noticed him as he pressed himself against the way. As he spotted Jake walking by he quickly darted out. With his headphones on Jake had no way of hearing him coming. With a quick punch to the back of the head Jake went down, and two strong kicks to the ribs later Josh was running as quickly as he could in the opposite direction.

Jake didn't come to school the next two days, and when he did after that he clutched his side every so often. His injuries were never mentioned in the school and Josh felt satisfied that he had gotten away with it. For days he toyed with the idea of telling Kyle what he had done, that in some small way he had avenged his sadness, but he could never find the right words. Eventually the memory of what he had done began to fade in and out of mind until he no longer felt the urge to tell anyone. Doing something for his best friend was reward enough, he didn't need to know, and besides, as far as he knew Jake hadn't told anyone what had happened, so Kyle wouldn't believe him. Every time Kyle called him a “pussy” however, he brought up the image of Jake clutching his side in class and gave him a wide grin.

The next few years seemed to fly by and before either of them knew it they were near the end of their junior year. Their experiences together had grown. Both of them had obtained a few short term girlfriends and their private explicit conversations had no longer been one sided. They had gotten drunk together for the first time at a party Josh's older brother had thrown. Although they didn't remember much the puke stain on the couch in the basement served as a constant reminder. Kyle had bought a bong off a senior at the school who was afraid his mom would find it when they went off to college. After which they spent their days in a smoke filled basement laughing constantly at small jokes that played on the new T.V. And DVD player Josh had managed to collect over the years.

Josh noticed that the man had finished his speech and snapped his attentiveness towards him. “Now,” The man began in a low and respectful voice “If you would like, you may file out and view Kyle.” Josh hesitated and waited until everyone else in the row had stood up. He wished he could wait until everyone else had gone by but instinctively went along with others sitting in the front with him. He noticed that most of the women stopped to stare at the body for a moment before bursting into tears again, the only exception being Kyle's sister, the beautiful shape that had been sitting next to Josh who took one glance and walked away without changing the expression on her face. Josh shook away in his head the memories of the times Kyle had referred to his sister as “The incredible she-bitch” and took his turn. He wished desperately that Kyle was smiling but knew they couldn't make that happen. Instead he shoved his hands in his pocket and hurried his way out into the reception area.

There were tables lined with small snacks and it appeared that people were making small talk. He was unprepared for this and did a hidden speed walk over some cheese on toothpicks. He shoved one in his mouth and stared around the room. He didn't recognize most of the people in the room or those shuffling in. Kyle's mother, father and sister were there, and he assumed that most of the others were other close family members or friends. By the time everyone had finished entering the room was filled with about thirty people conversing with each other while Josh hung by back by the food, stuffing his face so he wouldn't have to talk with anyone when he saw another picture of Kyle standing next to a plate of miniature sandwiches. In this one he was younger, before Josh met him. He was on a swing set smiling with his mouth filled with teeth. He looked like he was about to jump off and the excitement of it was almost over taking him.

It was near the end of their junior year, the week after prom Josh recalled, when he invited Kyle over after school. Although it was their near daily ritual Josh still asked as his way of finding out if Kyle was actually going to show up or if he would be waiting.

“So chill after school today?” Josh asked.

“I'm not sure I can man.”

“Why not?”

“I just got some stuff to do.”

“Don't bail on me for something lame man.”

“Like I said I just have some stuff to do.”

“Listen, I just got a big bag of some of the best shit I've ever smelled here in my pack. Are you telling me that whatever you have going on is more important that getting baked off our asses tonight?”

“Yeah man, it is, sorry.”

“Whatever man, I'll just have to enjoy this all by myself tonight.” Josh walked away and threw up a backwards peace sign behind his shoulder. A few hours later he was stuck to his couch with stale smoke heavy in the air and his eyes glazed over. He was just deciding if he had the energy to go to the kitchen and if it was worth possibly running into his mom who if she ever noticed the smell emanating from the basement never said anything when his phone began to buzz in his pocket. After struggling to fish it out of his jeans he saw that it was Kyle calling. He quickly flipped it open and held it to his ear. “So you did you finally decide not to be a bitch and come over?”

“Hey man” Kyle's voice was soft and low. Josh thought he sounded like he was high himself.

“What's up?”

“Not much” he drew out the “h” at the end until it was a whisper. “So guess what?”

“What?” Josh pulled some more smoke into his lungs and quickly exhaled.

“I stole a bunch of my dad's viocdine he gets for his back.”

“Shit man! Bring that stuff over and we'll get fucked up.”

“Sorry,” Kyle sounded like he was on the verge of crying. “I took them all.”

“What?” Josh was in a stunned haze of pot and shock. “What happened?”

“I just took them all.”

“How many?”

“I don't know, thirty maybe.”

“What the fuck man?” Josh began to say more but Kyle interrupted before he could get a word out.

“I'm gonna die man.” silence echoed from the phone and seemed to fill the room Josh was in.

“Why?”

“I don't wanna talk about it man, I just called to say goodbye. Don't do anything about it, trust me. I know you're probably blazed right now, so just sit there for a few hours and everything will work out.” Kyle seemed eerily calm and Josh couldn't help but think this was some elaborate prank he was getting subjected to for getting high without him.

“Whatever you say man.”

“Cool. Well,” Kyle paused to take a deep breath, “goodbye.”

“Goodbye man.” Josh hesitated until the line went empty. He put his phone back into his pocket and switched on the T.V. After surfing through a few channels he found an old cartoon him and Kyle used to walk and began to smoke some more.

Kyle's mom walked up to Josh and broke his ability to stay silent. “I'm so glad you could make it dear.” She wrapped her arms around him and pulled his limp body close. Josh felt weird but knew he couldn't resist. “I know Kyle would be so happy to have you hear.” her tears dripped onto the back of Josh's jacket.
“I'm glad I could be here.” he offered as she let go and gave him a smile that seemed to take all her energy to muster. She turned to walk away and suddenly Josh felt his eyes began to swell up. He quickly dashed outside and sat on the steps that lead down from the building to a sidewalk next to a busy street. He tried to focus on cars flying by but couldn't see them well through the water that flowing out his eyes and onto the concrete below him. He turned his head upwards towards the smoky clouds and watched as they drifted across the sky. He thought back to that day when he kicked Jake in the ribs and wondered if Kyle had any idea of what had happened. He dried his tears on his sleeve, kicked the step with the back of his heel and headed back inside.

The Party

Written for Intermediate Fiction Writing

He moved his way along like a slithering snake. The streets were empty and it was too dark to make out their names from afar, though even in the sunlight his blurred vision would have made this task equally impossible. He was drawn in this direction by the sounds and bright lights that seemed to echo down the pavement and into the very essence of his body. He slowly dragged his way to the door. His hand reached for the door knob when he noticed his reflection in the glass window giving him a small glimpse into the arena inside. He took a moment to pat down his hair and move it out of his eyes and made pressed down on his shirt that seemed at one moment too big and the other too small. Noticing a stain on his sleeve he licked his thumb and attempted to rub it out, but the stain was older than the night and resisted this. With a sigh (that was louder than he expected) he gave up and placed his hand on the shining golden globe and twisted it.

The door flew open with ease and he tripped over the slightly raised landing as he worked his way inside. The music seemed to be in a far off room as only the thumping of the base echoed through his body like a bad headache. Closing the door behind him with a slam he worked his way through the mazes of rooms to find one occupied. When he found one it was perfect, a gray carpet that seemed almost stain proof, tipped over ruby cups with dark liquid still pooled at the lower bottom, people in various states of consciousness draped over the furniture, and bottles, with more than enough fluid left in them to satisfy, lined up along a table.

He put on his best imitation of a straight face and walked towards the wall of bottles. Picking up a cup from the floor he filled it up a quarter full with the first clear liquid he could could find. He opened his throat and poured it down, the numbness of the night concealing any burn. Setting his cup down he steadied himself on the edge of the table, trying his best to look like he belonged among the others. A girl approached him, her hair and clothes mangled like she had forgotten whether she was dressing or undressing. “Hey, I haven't seen you before.” To him, her words dripped with innuendo that she didn't intend. He froze in his response, his mouth open as if trying desperately to save him when his mind couldn't. “Who do you know here?” she asked. A light “mmm” sound was all he could make out. “Maddie?” She offered.

“Yep! Maddie!” he replied.

“Oh great! That's cool.” she took a sip out of her own cup and stared at him. His thoughts were running wild but any attempts to verbalize them failed immediately. Seeing that he wasn't going to offer any more entertainment she turned to leave, “Well, see you around.” She walked back towards the group she had been apart of earlier, they extended their circle to let her rejoin quickly and quietly as if she had never left.

A sound of rushing water came from a door across the room and a well built man stepped out of it with the confidence of someone who had nothing left to lose. A menacing grin was the only feature of his face that was worth noting to the boy propping himself up on the other side of the party. The man strolled over and threw his arms around his shoulder. “How's it going buddy?”

“Pretty good.” The boy managed to slur out.

“Hey, who do you know here?”

“Maddie!” he said, a bit too excited he had remembered.

“Who?”

“Maddie.”

“That's funny, because I'm Matty and I don't know who you are.” All color drained from the face of the boy. He knew what would happen next. Matty stood back and seemed to puff himself up like a threatened cat. “Get the fuck out of here.” He said with the voice of a god. If the boy could have ran he would have, but the only thing his body could do shake. A single thought brought him peace. In the morning his only memory of this would be the bruises.

Falling

Written for Intermediate fiction writing

The rain had started falling. It was light. Just enough to chill your core. He walked down the street slightly slower than his normal pace. The streaming water marked his clothes with their impacts. Although the wet feeling itself didn't bother him the cold beckoned him into the coffee shop he was passing. He had no where to be after all. He was in the dead zone between class and his promises to see a friend and the warm coffee would do him some good in making it through the rest of the day.

He began to heat up as he studied the menu under the lazy eyes of the cashier, inclined to stand behind the register even while he was obviously not ready to order. After a few moments of consideration, mostly to let himself become accustomed to the strong aroma of the shop, he ordered a drink involving white chocolate. Always white chocolate.

He moved himself off to the side next to a table. Placing his hand on the back of a chair he appeared like he was going to sit down, yet he preferred to stand. His head turned its way around as he glanced across the seating area. Not much was going on this evening. There was the usual crowd of people on their computers typing away along with the couples who had come there for a moment of cliché silence.

As his head was taking another glide around the room he noticed him walking in the door. Tall. Dark. Handsome. The three words on the tip of his tongue which he knew he had to hold back. The sight of him stirred primal urges deep inside of his body. He knew he had to approach this stranger.

He was lost in thought while considering how to best due this when his drink was ready. Distracted he missed the first two calls of his order, obviously directed at him. When reality sunk back his cheeks turned a slight shade of red as he grabbed his drink and sat down to slowly tilt it back and let the warm, almost burning, fluid race down his throat. The man he had his eye on began staring back at him, a slight smile on his face. After paying for his drink, the green bills held softly in his strong hands was noticed, he walked over to the table and extended his hand.

“Hi, I'm Eric.” He offered to the wet boy sitting at the table.

“Nick.” He extended his own hand, warm from the drink, to shake the other.

“Couldn't help but notice you staring.” and he continued to stare and see more of what he liked than he had at first glance. The way his black, almost stringy hair was tossed off to one side. The tone of his skin which gave just a slight hint of exoticness in his mostly pale city. The way his fingers curled around his hand gave the appearance of some hidden strength.

The boys phone rang as he gazed into the eyes of the man. They locked looks as the ringing continued. He reached deep into his pocket and pulled out the small singing machine. He looked at the time and name on it. It was the friend he was supposed to meet. He was late now, coffee taking longer than he expected. With a quick thought he put the phone back into his pocket.

“Nothing important.” he boy offered.

“Can I sit down?” The man said with a smile. The boy offered him a seat.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Not exactly an update, but all my scene assignments are being polished today. I'm not putting them here because this is for my unfinished or revised work, but I figured it'd be nice to have some sort of record that I am improving on unfinished pieces.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Scene 4

My latest scene assignment. Haven't been writing much for fun lately. So busy. Here was the prompt:

Write about a person who was in a plane crash exactly one year ago.
There are only a few survivors, and he/she is one of them. Explain what
this person does, thinks, and says on the one year anniversary of the
crash. Include some dialogue, but no more than five lines.


August. The Twenty second. Two-thousand and eight. I wake up, roll over and glance at the alarm clock. It started ringing right on time. Like usual. Pull back the sheets. Stand up. Glance behind me. My wife is still sleeping soundly, she learned more than awhile ago to sleep through the sound of my alarm. I walk to the closet. Blue shirt, socks, shoes, and black pants. Put them on one leg at a time like every morning. Adjust my tie. I run my hand over my face. Should shave today. Not going to. I brush my teeth twice instead, watching my mix of water, saliva and colored fluoride circle the drain and disappear. Wallet, cellphone, and keys are all in my pocket. I'm ready. One step at a time.

I open the door and lock it behind me. No time for breakfast. Never any time for breakfast. I let the car idle for a few moments. I reach for the air conditioner. The earlier you turn it on the better it runs. At least I always felt so. I look out the window towards the sky. Mistake. Hundreds of miles above, a life time away, I can see a plane flying by. I try not to let the memories in, but they flood me. My hand starts to shake intensely and the heat is accidentally flipped on. Fire. Blood. Screams. I close my eyes and press my hands against my ears. In a brief second everything comes back.

My head hurt so bad. My ears were ringing. The ground below me felt stiffer than I had ever imagined. I couldn't seem to move except for my left arm. I moved it to feel my head and felt blood. The last thing I remembered was a fasten seatbelt sign lighting up in the cabin. Screams. I could remember them too. Or maybe they were happening then. People wanted help, people were dying. Then everything went black.

Then came the people who wanted to know. I was interviewed. Questioned. Put on TV. But I had nothing to say. Therapy, pills, people who wanted to help, all of them came to me. Eventually, long after the dust had settled, people began to forget and I felt I could too. As people stopped coming to talk to me, I finally was alone.

The heat is starting to get to me. My eyes flash towards the clock. “Shit. Late.” I turn the air to full blast and switch the car into reverse. As I get near the highway it looks like there's a traffic jam. I turn on the radio and a song from when I was a teenager pops on. I bob my head slowly along with the chorus and wait for the traffic to let up.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Scene 3

I very, very quickly gave up Nanowrimo, so here is my third scene assignment for writing class. The prompt was write about a guy trying to convince a girl to have sex with him.

His hands lurched across her face. The attempt at giving her a gentle stroke across the cheek was thwarted by the alcohol pumping through his system. Leaning closer towards her ear was difficult but he managed to do so only slightly bumping into her. “Wanna go back to my place?” he whispered. The loud music and voices in the room made it difficult for her to hear him.

“Why?” she asked and then giggled.

“You know why.” He said giving her the closest imitation of a coy look he could manage. She let out a small hum and leaned in towards him. They resumed kissing with the kind of abandon you only have when you're young and intoxicated. Her eyes were tightly shut as their lips fumbled against the others. If anyone was watching closely they would have noticed his eyes flicker open and then shut again in a prolonged blinks. No one did of course, they were all entwined in their own parodies of a romantic encounter. His hands pulled her closer lustfully, the stirrings of ethanol had awoken primal urges that threatened to overtake him. After a few moments of careless thought he broke the touching lips and returned to her side. “Comon” he urged.

Her response was another giggle and more kissing. He was torn. He knew what he desired, both his mind and body knew it, but he lacked the inspiration to make it a reality. Within his haze he decided the only way to discover the path to his dreams was to take a blind first step. Slowly his hand crept up her exposed leg and under her skirt she had worn for the occasion. He grasped at forbidden flesh. She pressed against him harder in response. His head went wild with possibilities.

He would take her by the hand and stand up with her. The talking around them would stop and people would watch as he slowly lead her out the door. Their hands would not leave each others bodies for the rest of the night. The rest of the night would be a blur of passion and romance and entangled bodies. His body relished the thought. This plans were about to become action when they were interrupted.

“Hey! We're leaving!” Said the girls friend slapping her slightly on the stomach.

“Okay” she replied and stood up without him. Her friends exited the room and she stumbled after them. When she was in the door frame she turned around and gave him one last look of passion and spoke. “What's your name?”