RuneScape Forum Archive | Trey's Short Stories

Croc 2251

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The teenager’s grip loosened, and Josh pulled free. Defeated, the boy handed over his half-full pack of Marlboros. With his now free hand he wiped away the tear stains. He turned, and after a brief look at Bill, he began to walk back the way they’d come. Though Knight was silently relieved that he wouldn’t have to taste a cigarette, he was upset. To see his friend in a beaten, sulking manner was so unusual that it couldn’t help but upset him. But he turned and began to follow in his friend’s footsteps.
Behind him, Johnny was laughing. The girl, presumably his girlfriend, was heading down the hill. She was scolding him. He turned to her and said, “That kid must have a real fa*got father.” It was low but just loud enough for Joshua Landry to hear. Before Bill could raise his head, Josh had turned around completely and was sprinting towards Johnny. Because he’d turned around, only the girl saw what was coming. Before she could call out a warning, Landry had kicked him in the back. The impact drove him to his knees. As he turned his head in protest, a fist collided with his cheekbone. To prevent further contact, the teenager fell flat, covering the back of his head with his arms.
But the onslaught continued, and Joshua was now kneeing his victim in the back, drawing grunts of pain. The girl’s shrill screams filled the air as Josh’s shoe dug into the teenager’s side. Bill was repeating his friend’s name, to no avail. He and the girl were helpless onlookers. Finally, Landry stood up completely, looking pitifully at Johnny. He spat on him.

12-Jul-2011 11:56:24 - Last edited on 12-Jul-2011 11:57:03 by Croc 2251

Croc 2251

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For a moment, Bill and Josh were lost in time. They were both reevaluating the recent events and processing them. Bill Knight was worried that his friend’s temper might one day be unleashed on him or someone close to him. That’ll never happen, he thought, because he’s my friend and friends don’t do things like that. At the same time, Joshua was justifying his side of the dispute. He was only acting in self-defense, right? The kid had picked on him, and he was just returning the favor. What goes around comes around, he thought grimly. But in the back of his mind, he knew he had allowed his temper to attack someone.
“Listen, Josh. We better get going before it gets dark.” Bill cautioned, hoping for a short and sweet response.
“Yeah, you’re right. Hey, and about that…” Landry stared out into space for a moment, and then returned his gaze towards Bill, “I wouldn’t ever do anything like that to you. But some people just ask for it, you know?”
Though the Knight child did*’t actually understand this justification, he nodded and began walking up the hill. Then he thought about what his friend had said and compared it to what he had been thinking only moments ago. Did he read my mind? Bill speculated, staring at his friend for a moment of hysteria and fear. No, no, people can’t read minds. However, despite this denial, the thought lurked in the back of his mind for quite some time after that.
“Hey, man, we’re still friends and all, right? What happened back there…It’s that tiger in me. But even the tigers don’t mess with their buds, now do they? C’mon, lighten up!” Joshua winked at him and jogged on forward. “I’ll race you home!”
And the two boys sprinted homebound.

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12-Jul-2011 11:58:13 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2011 22:21:38 by Croc 2251

Croc 2251

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"THEY'S A BETTER BE POTATS!"
My mother had just called me into the room, a smile upon her face. I rolled my eyes slightly, knowing she were to ask me yet another favor, and knowing that it would happen to involve picking potatoes. Every day I went through this, yet I found it fun and exciting every time. Of course, she simply nodded: our personal gesture for 'Go.'
So I left the room, enlightened by the bright aroma of the day. The grass glistened with morning dew, reflecting the sun's beautiful light. I walked across our backyard area, and grabbed onto the lever that appeared to be pasted on the chalky wooden fence. A chunk of the fence swung open, revealing it to be a gate, once I'd pulled the lever, and I walked on through.
I'd pick potatoes, every morning. Somehow I came up with a new reason for it to be exciting every day; it's a mystery even to me how I could possibly cope with such a chore. Though picking potatoes may seem easy, it is quite the challenging task. A spade is used to dig at the earth and to hack at the roots dangling free from the potato. Once those tasks are finished, the potatoes must be washed and stored in a sack near the right wall of the house.
The happiest moment of this task, though, is my mother's face when I walk in the door with dirty lumps. As I mentioned, they must be washed, and before that's been done, they're quite an ugly sight. However, it is comical how I look when entering that door, and even I can admit it. My mother's cheeks light up every morning, and that makes my day.
And, nearly every morning, she jokes, "They's a better be potats!"
We share no accent, but we do live in South Carolina, where the majority of the population talks as such. Constantly we use the accent for humorous purposes amongst each other. The bond my mother and I share is extremely strong, and I don't see how it could ever be split, by anything.

13-Jul-2011 22:19:47 - Last edited on 13-Jul-2011 22:22:01 by Croc 2251

Croc 2251

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My mother gave birth to me when she was 16, and I am now that age. Her boyfriend abandoned her before I was born, but she decided to raise me alone. Her parents both passed away before I was old enough to understand death, so I wasn't too strongly effected by it. I understand now, and still do grieve over the grandparents I once knew. What I find interesting is that I've got another pair of grandparents out there, but because their son was too damn cowardly to stick with my mom, they're never going to have the privelege of knowing me.
And as I walked in that door in that morning, I felt the same flush of happiness rush over me as my mom's face lit up, and she said, "They's a better be potats!" Some people think jokes get old - I think they last forever, and that they should be cherished forever. Jokes are priceless. And I don't mean those good-for-nothing dirty jokes, or those stereotyped jokes. I mean the quality jokes that people laugh at without wondering how you could be so ********* for saying it. Those are the kind of jokes I like.
And my daily schedule ran as it would that day - I went to school, came home, did that wretched homework, watched a bit of news on our 6-channel television, and then dozed off to sleep on the couch. Though I wasn't awake, I knew my mom had come in, pushed my hair back, and kissed my forehead: she did it every night. I felt special. No, I felt glad, glad that I had a mom that cared so much.
I woke up the next morning, and, once seeing my mom asleep in our reading chair, decided to head out to the potato field, to catch up on things early. I walked out, but for some reason, the world was not as cheery. The birds did not sing as happily as they had. The dew no longer glistened. Wondering why, I continued on, across the yard.

13-Jul-2011 22:20:09

Croc 2251

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Obviously, they were nearby. It was now that I was alert, because my neighborhood had never been one in which crimes were committed or murders occurred. Only one other cause of death came to mind: heart attack. My mother had had a bad heart for a long time. It was a cardiovascular disease our doctor could not specify, but he knew it would probably increase the risk of a heart attack.
Once being told this, my mother and I ran around frantically searching what we could and getting information. She was put on a special diet, and all seemed well. But there is no way that she had a heart attack now, right? It just couldn't happened. No longer would I wait, though.
I hopped up from the dirt I was crouched upon and swung open the gate. Sprinting across the field, I nearly smashed into the sliding glass pane entrance leading to the back way through the house. Once managing it open, I saw paramedics in the house, and dizziness overwhelmed me. I didn't know anything for sure yet, though, so I steadied myself and looked to where I'd found my mom sleeping that morning. Or had she been sleeping at all? Had she been dead?
She was no longer there, but on the floor, two paramedics on either side of her. They raised their hand to her neck, checking for a pulse, but, by simply looking at her stomach, I realized she wasn't breathing. I dropped to my knees, feeling the impact of death upon me. My mother...my mother meant everything to me! How could she leave right now?

13-Jul-2011 22:20:36

Croc 2251

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One of the paramedics put his arm around me, as if trying to comfort me. Personally, I felt completely numb, and if it hadn't been for my eyesight I wouldn't have known he was even near me. Tears began to stream down my face as realization dawned on me. My mom was gone forever...She was snatched up by death itself.
I'd spent 16 years of my life living alone with this one woman. She'd taught me everything. And now she was gone. 'I don't see how our unbreakable bond can hold through this one, Mom,' I thought to myself, wondering if I was thinking to myself and only myself.
'How can I live without you, Mom? I...No, I can't. I can't live without you. I won't. I'll find a way to change it. I'll find a way...' I realized that I was getting nowhere, though, with my rambling thoughts, and that the paramedic was pulling me upward. He spun me around, forcing me to face him, and looked into my eyes. He looked compassionate, but I cared nothing, for he had no idea what I was feeling.
"Kid, I'm sorry. Losing a family member close to you can be difficult." As if I didn't already know that...
"She was my mom."
"That's even worse! But you have to remember that she wouldn't want you moping. Can you think of anything she'd rather you be doing? Something that made her happy, and made you happy because it made her happy? Because if you can, then you'd better go do it."
And I remembered the potato field. With an image of my mom smiling after seeing me enter with lumps of dirty potatoes in my head, I turned around, with my spade still in hand, and walked out to the field. And, for some reason, the grass was glistening a bit more than it had been.

13-Jul-2011 22:21:00