A day in the life of a teen
Right from the start he knew it was a bad idea. A strange force pulled him toward it. “I must be a pathetic moth, that’s a fire, I’m a moth, I’m gonna singe my wings off and die a toasty death. I know it. Legs I order you to stop. Stupid legs. AH FINE.” He stretched out his hand, closing his eyes and turning his head away. His face tightened as he got closer — “I must hate myself…”
Terry’s fingers tightened around the soft velvet curtains. He gave a swift yank to the side, revealing an auditorium of hyper-active tenth graders, just waiting to destroy what little ego he had left. The lights were strong, the room hot, smelling of popcorn and broken dreams. Yeah broken dreams stink to high heaven. “Welcome to the stage Terry! What will you be performing for us today?!” — Principal Saunders boomed out, with a smile so large it would have put the cheshire cat to shame. It was talent day at school and there were only three reasons to participate.
- You have talent.
- You think you have talent.
- You have a crush you somehow thought this would impress.
“Oh would you look at the time? Things to do, schedule and stuff, homework, very important Mr. Saunders, have to run.” — Terry speedily said. Staring down at his legs, he realised they didn’t follow suit, he was still standing in front of the curtains that had now closed behind him. “Fuuuuuuuuuck you legs!” — he whispered under his breath, so no one could hear. “Oh look we have a funny man! It’s always nice to get the crowd going with a joke! You need a microphone to be heard up here though Terry.” — Saunders chuckled as he spoke, quite the talent if you ask me. “Now, on with the show! Whatever it is.” — Saunders chucked the microphone at Terry as he walked off stage.
He fumbled with the mic for a moment, then managed to grab it. “Testing 1, 2… 1, 2, 3! Ha… hey…” — the auditorium grew silent. “DORK!”. The yell came from the back. Ronson. Barry fucking Ronson. Terry could recognize that voice anywhere. Ronson was the school bully, his freakishly large and flabby body made him intimidating to even the teachers. The auditorium burst out laughing. Terry knew this was the moment that would make or break him. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath of hate from the surrounding air and calmly spoke into the microphone: “Quiet you fat shit”. Everyone gasped at the same time, their heads all turning to the dark corner, awaiting Ronson’s reaction. A large dark figure rose from the shadows, a hood obscuring his features — “The fuck you say to me?!”. Terry gulped. He of course had participated because of reason 3. All eyes on him now, he locked gaze with Mary, sweet beautiful Mary, and a second wind of courage rushed through him. Clearing his throat, he pronounced loud and clear: “I said, quiet. You. Fat. Shit.”. The rustle of clothes was synchronous as all the heads turned back to Ronson. The room remained silent. To Terry’s amazement, Mary hadn’t turned. She kept staring deep into his eyes and he into hers. Concern overflowing her features, he realised she cared. At that moment, he was the king of the world. Ronson walked down the aisle cracking his knuckles with a smile on his lips— “You’re dead, you little fuck.”
Terry came to in the nurse’s office. Gertrude. Appalling name, delightful personality. She was sitting at her desk with her back to him. “Hey look I can see… My head kinda hurts though, how bad did he get me this time Gert?”. She let out shriek and grabbed her chest “Good lord! You scared the bejeezus outta me!”. Taking a moment to recompose herself, she turned to Terry: “He didn’t… long story short, he got on stage, you passed out, hit your head on the piano, he laughed. Principal Saunders, dumb as doorknob, thought you were dead and started doing CPR on you — lord I hope that wasn’t your first kiss — which made Barry go into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He shit his pants Terry! I know I shouldn’t laugh or say shit, but he shit his pants!”. Gertrude could hardly breathe from laughing so hard. Terry’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe it. Not only was he alive after that, but Ronson’s karma had finally caught up with him. A huge grin came to his face: “HE SHIT HIS PANTS! GERT! HE SHIT HIS PANTS!” and they both laughed. A giggle joined in, it came from the chair in the corner.
*To be continued*
