Status: Undergoing revisions and character development but is still active. :)
Between 11:00 and 11:05 PM
Charlie
I stretch my arms high above my head, locking my fingers together and take a few steps around in a circle. Then I drop my arms like they’re suddenly lead noodles and squint into the sunny sky.
It’s about noon and I just got done taking my first practice ACT session. It’s been a busy year so far, and it’s not even half over. On top of all this ACT boot camp stuff, I’ve had essays galore for APUSH and AP English Lang, and then there’s Honors Chem and Pre-Calc and it’s all kinda tiring. Colleges expect community service too, so I get to do that every other weekend and then there’s extracurricular activities and NHS and Link… The list goes on and on.
I breathe in real deep and shove my hands into my sweater pockets. Nearing the end of October, my little mountain town is growing chilly, not to mention turning orange and black in anticipation for Halloween. My own household has a few pumpkins sitting out on the front steps waiting to be carved up and some kitchy little scarecrows lean against store-bought bales of hay, their stitched-on smiles wide.
Halloween was always kind of a big deal for me, but with everything going on with school, I don’t even know if I can make it to the door and comment with enough enthusiasm on little kids’ costumes. I’ll probably just end up with a bag of candy corn in front of the TV, writing an essay on The Sound and the Fury while simultaneously watching The House on Haunted Hill. Which, granted, probably isn't the best idea, considering I might accidentally end up meshing the two together and my essay will be about Quentin coming back as a vengeful ghost to haunt the remaining Compsons for their moral misdeeds. And thereafter, I will have to trash the paper and write it all over again. And behold, yet another anecdotal tale for the dinner table on Turkey Day.
The sound of my cell phone playing the intro to Californication breaks me from my reverie. I drop my surprisingly light backpack onto the concrete and kneel, searching through the front pocket for the little piece of crap I’ve had for a few years. I find the light pink brick in a few moments and flip it open. “Yola.” I clamber back to my feet, wiping the dirt off my knees.
I hear some humming and clicking on the other line and I’m pretty sure someone’s talking really fast, but it could be aliens trying to communicate with me too.
“—Come again?”
“Ugh, Charlie. Have you not been listening?”
Yup. Alien.
“Why, hello Kyle. I’m doing just fine, thanks. How are you?”
“Okay, seriously? I’m trying to tell you something and you’re not listening. You’re just being a typical female and—“
“Oh, typical female, you say? Mighty bold, this one.” I smirk and bite the slightly bloody hangnail on my thumb.
“Fine. Hi, Charlie. How are you today?”
“Well, I’m just peachy. And you?”
“Fine. Good. Great. Now can I tell you?”
“Fire away,” I say in a dismissive tone and glance at the street, seeing if my mom’s car was coming towards the school.
“So, I was at the grocery store with my mom and…” He retold the entire evening’s events up to him putting on his pajamas.
“Silverspur?”
“Yeah. Old abandoned hospital. In this town. No one’s allowed to go there and yet in this little tourist pamphlet, it’s there.”
“Well, what’s your point?” I furrow my brow, bracing myself for the answer I know is coming.
“I want to go there.”
Go figure.
“Kyle, do you know how crazy that is?—Not to mention, pointless.”
“Charlie, just hear me out. I just… have this feeling that I’m supposed to go there.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, c’mon. It’ll make life a little more exciting. You can’t honestly tell me you’re not bored of all this.”
“All what, Kyle?”
“School, work, suburbia. It’s so… monotonous. Don’t you just wanna forget about it for a second before we just get caught up? First high school, and then college, then you get a job and a spouse, pop out a few kids and before you know it, you’re hanging yourself from the rafters of the attic in that nice house in that nice neighborhood where ‘cul-de-sac’ is common terminology and reruns of Jay Leno and new carpet make the front page.”
“You’re horrible. That’s not how it works.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, just tell me this: Do you ever get sick of your life?”
“What are you talking about? My life is fine and I like it the way it is. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Liar.
“Okay, Charlie. You go on telling yourself that and you keep dying on the inside. But I’m going. With or without you.”
I attempt to roll my eyes, but can’t seem to. A beige minivan pulls into the parking lot. “I’ve got to go.” I poise my thumb over the ‘end’ button, still holding the phone to my ear.
“But remember, Charlie; the offer’s still open.”
I snap the phone shut and shoulder my backpack, then walk over to meet the car.
Mom gets out of the driver’s seat and smiles in the ‘how was your day’ kind of way and says, “You’re driving.”
I nod and go over to the left side to the van, slipping my phone into my pocket.
It’s about noon and I just got done taking my first practice ACT session. It’s been a busy year so far, and it’s not even half over. On top of all this ACT boot camp stuff, I’ve had essays galore for APUSH and AP English Lang, and then there’s Honors Chem and Pre-Calc and it’s all kinda tiring. Colleges expect community service too, so I get to do that every other weekend and then there’s extracurricular activities and NHS and Link… The list goes on and on.
I breathe in real deep and shove my hands into my sweater pockets. Nearing the end of October, my little mountain town is growing chilly, not to mention turning orange and black in anticipation for Halloween. My own household has a few pumpkins sitting out on the front steps waiting to be carved up and some kitchy little scarecrows lean against store-bought bales of hay, their stitched-on smiles wide.
Halloween was always kind of a big deal for me, but with everything going on with school, I don’t even know if I can make it to the door and comment with enough enthusiasm on little kids’ costumes. I’ll probably just end up with a bag of candy corn in front of the TV, writing an essay on The Sound and the Fury while simultaneously watching The House on Haunted Hill. Which, granted, probably isn't the best idea, considering I might accidentally end up meshing the two together and my essay will be about Quentin coming back as a vengeful ghost to haunt the remaining Compsons for their moral misdeeds. And thereafter, I will have to trash the paper and write it all over again. And behold, yet another anecdotal tale for the dinner table on Turkey Day.
The sound of my cell phone playing the intro to Californication breaks me from my reverie. I drop my surprisingly light backpack onto the concrete and kneel, searching through the front pocket for the little piece of crap I’ve had for a few years. I find the light pink brick in a few moments and flip it open. “Yola.” I clamber back to my feet, wiping the dirt off my knees.
I hear some humming and clicking on the other line and I’m pretty sure someone’s talking really fast, but it could be aliens trying to communicate with me too.
“—Come again?”
“Ugh, Charlie. Have you not been listening?”
Yup. Alien.
“Why, hello Kyle. I’m doing just fine, thanks. How are you?”
“Okay, seriously? I’m trying to tell you something and you’re not listening. You’re just being a typical female and—“
“Oh, typical female, you say? Mighty bold, this one.” I smirk and bite the slightly bloody hangnail on my thumb.
“Fine. Hi, Charlie. How are you today?”
“Well, I’m just peachy. And you?”
“Fine. Good. Great. Now can I tell you?”
“Fire away,” I say in a dismissive tone and glance at the street, seeing if my mom’s car was coming towards the school.
“So, I was at the grocery store with my mom and…” He retold the entire evening’s events up to him putting on his pajamas.
“Silverspur?”
“Yeah. Old abandoned hospital. In this town. No one’s allowed to go there and yet in this little tourist pamphlet, it’s there.”
“Well, what’s your point?” I furrow my brow, bracing myself for the answer I know is coming.
“I want to go there.”
Go figure.
“Kyle, do you know how crazy that is?—Not to mention, pointless.”
“Charlie, just hear me out. I just… have this feeling that I’m supposed to go there.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, c’mon. It’ll make life a little more exciting. You can’t honestly tell me you’re not bored of all this.”
“All what, Kyle?”
“School, work, suburbia. It’s so… monotonous. Don’t you just wanna forget about it for a second before we just get caught up? First high school, and then college, then you get a job and a spouse, pop out a few kids and before you know it, you’re hanging yourself from the rafters of the attic in that nice house in that nice neighborhood where ‘cul-de-sac’ is common terminology and reruns of Jay Leno and new carpet make the front page.”
“You’re horrible. That’s not how it works.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, just tell me this: Do you ever get sick of your life?”
“What are you talking about? My life is fine and I like it the way it is. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Liar.
“Okay, Charlie. You go on telling yourself that and you keep dying on the inside. But I’m going. With or without you.”
I attempt to roll my eyes, but can’t seem to. A beige minivan pulls into the parking lot. “I’ve got to go.” I poise my thumb over the ‘end’ button, still holding the phone to my ear.
“But remember, Charlie; the offer’s still open.”
I snap the phone shut and shoulder my backpack, then walk over to meet the car.
Mom gets out of the driver’s seat and smiles in the ‘how was your day’ kind of way and says, “You’re driving.”
I nod and go over to the left side to the van, slipping my phone into my pocket.
♠ ♠ ♠
Finally a second chapter that I like! This story's coming back! Hooray!!!!! :DD