Status: something to help the writer's block
The Irony is That This Cell Phone Has Gone Through Dante's Inferno and Back and Still Looks Better Than You
In Which He Doesn't Know Why It's His Fault
History repeats itself.
This time, it wasn’t a vase. Will didn’t break it; he wasn’t even home. It was a ceramic bowl, filled with fake fruits. He was by himself and his dad was home. He was unemployed now, so he was always home. Life had adjusted to fit around the disruptions.
This was more than a slap. It was a belt, pulled angrily from its loops and wrapped around a hand. Smacking first against the arm, then the shoulder, and the neck.
Not the face, because somewhere in Arthur Whitmore’s brain, he realized he couldn’t leave such a visible mark.
James left the house running, tears streaming down his face and cradling his arm to his chest. It was a splotchy red, a blackish purple was already beginning to bloom beneath his skin.
What he wanted to do was go see his sweetheart, ask for her help, ask why his dad did this to him, what did he do wrong, but he stopped in his tracks halfway across the yard.
Would his dad hurt his sweetheart? Would he hurt Will if James weren’t around? James refused to let anything happen to them.
But what could he possibly do?
This time, it wasn’t a vase. Will didn’t break it; he wasn’t even home. It was a ceramic bowl, filled with fake fruits. He was by himself and his dad was home. He was unemployed now, so he was always home. Life had adjusted to fit around the disruptions.
This was more than a slap. It was a belt, pulled angrily from its loops and wrapped around a hand. Smacking first against the arm, then the shoulder, and the neck.
Not the face, because somewhere in Arthur Whitmore’s brain, he realized he couldn’t leave such a visible mark.
James left the house running, tears streaming down his face and cradling his arm to his chest. It was a splotchy red, a blackish purple was already beginning to bloom beneath his skin.
What he wanted to do was go see his sweetheart, ask for her help, ask why his dad did this to him, what did he do wrong, but he stopped in his tracks halfway across the yard.
Would his dad hurt his sweetheart? Would he hurt Will if James weren’t around? James refused to let anything happen to them.
But what could he possibly do?
♠ ♠ ♠
I spent the past two weeks pouring my heart and soul into an argument for my English class and I totally crushed the valedictorian's spirit I feel victorious