Post by professorpineapple on Oct 9, 2010 14:18:49 GMT -5
Was gonna post this in the OneShot Wonders thread, but decided to make it its own little story. Will be posting bits and pieces as I finish them. Critiques would be much appreciated <3
It was a Wednesday, sometime before noon, and all was quiet in the Bullworth Boys' Dorm. The little room at the end of the hall reeked of cough syrup and peaches. At least, Stevie assumed that it did.
From beneath two thick, teal blankets - one his, the other taken from his roommate's bed - he reached out for the can of peaches at his bedside table. Thin, dark fingers grasped the plastic fork sticking out of the opened tin, and he fished around blindly for a little while. The can was empty.
The fourteen-year-old sat up. Wads of used tissue rolled down onto the floor, but the scratchy old blanket stayed draped over his head, like a wedding veil. Under the blanket, Stevie's ever-present beanie was pulled down over his ears. Thick, dark hair stuck to his face in greasy strands, and his eyes were red and didn‘t open all the way. He rubbed his nose on the baggy sleeve of his dark blue hockey jersey. Stevie Stapleton wasn't built for New England winters.
On his nightstand, three empty peach cans gaped at him. There weren‘t any more. A streak of sunlight broke in from between the closed curtains, and the insides of the cans glinted earwax-yellow. With his little plastic fork, Stevie whisked the remaining syrup around inside one of the cans. It was thick and watery at the same time. He pushed the can away.
He didn‘t give any thought to the opened bottle of cough syrup beside his alarm clock. The label boasted a “wild cherry“ flavor, but it tasted more like shampoo and vodka. For some reason, Troy had told him to save some for him. That boy made Stevie worry sometimes.
It was almost lunctime. Stevie didn‘t need medicine or peach goo - he needed food. Holding both blankets tightly around his shoulders, he swung his toe-socked feet onto the floor.
This was the time of year where Edna‘s cooking was most bearable. Sure, it smelled like the dead and took too long to chew, but at least it was warm. And Stevie had long since finished Lance‘s stash of pork rinds and pretzels - much to his roommate‘s dismay - so there was nothing in his room to eat.
His blankets dragged on the hardwood floor behind him, picking up dust and used tissues in his wake. Stevie crossed over to the laundry basket beside the door, where his uniform sat in a heap. Melted snow gave the fabric a musty kind of smell that Stevie could not pick up with his clogged sinuses. But when he reached for it, he noticed it felt a little wet. It was warm, too. Gross.
It occurred to him then that, to get to the cafeteria, not only did he need to change his clothes, but he‘d need to walk his sickly behind through three inches of snow for almost five minutes.
Not worth it.
The small Bully sniffled, and rubbed his nose on his sleeve once more. This was quite the predicament.
Then he remembered Pedro - the boy kept his Halloween candy stashed under his bed. It had been barely a month since Halloween, so there was definitely some left over. If he knew Pedro, he’d make it last ‘til February. The kid was like a squirrel.
His outer blanket got caught in the door hinge as he left the room. Stevie let it fall behind - that was Lance’s blanket, anyway. His own blanket he pulled up over his head, to keep the cold out. The heating system in the Boys’ Dorm was busted, and no one had come around to fix it yet. As he walked, Stevie bundled up to fight the cold, leaving only his eyes uncovered. It made him feel like a ninja, creeping through the shadows. The blanket tripped him up kind of a lot, though.
Strings of colored lights blinked red and green and blue in the empty hallway. They hummed softly in the unnatural silence. Every now and then, Stevie thought he heard a distant squeak, or the scuttle of tiny paws. It didn’t bother him - as far as he was concerned, he already had the plague. But he didn’t like how damned quiet it was. Peace and quiet didn’t suit Bullworth Academy.
Just as he passed the empty common room, there was a rough scraping sound, and a gush of icy wind. Stevie, with his head full of sick, wasn’t startled by the noise. He took two more steps before realizing that something was amiss. The boy turned slowly. The thick blanket and layers of clothing made it kind of hard to move. As he listened to the thump of snow-boots on the common room floor, he hoped he wasn’t going to get beaten up. He had no chance of running away. And something about getting beaten up in striped toe-socks just didn’t seem right. He felt it‘d just be embarrassing for everyone involved.
The window squealed shut, and someone gave a heavy sigh. There was a defeated groan of the common‘s old sofa. A male voice laughed.
I got a little bit more, but this seemed like a good place to leave off for now. If anything, I hope it was coherent @_@
Guess I'll stuff my crapdoodles in this thread, too, so I don't stink up the rest of the board. Don't have any crapdoodles right now, though.
It was a Wednesday, sometime before noon, and all was quiet in the Bullworth Boys' Dorm. The little room at the end of the hall reeked of cough syrup and peaches. At least, Stevie assumed that it did.
From beneath two thick, teal blankets - one his, the other taken from his roommate's bed - he reached out for the can of peaches at his bedside table. Thin, dark fingers grasped the plastic fork sticking out of the opened tin, and he fished around blindly for a little while. The can was empty.
The fourteen-year-old sat up. Wads of used tissue rolled down onto the floor, but the scratchy old blanket stayed draped over his head, like a wedding veil. Under the blanket, Stevie's ever-present beanie was pulled down over his ears. Thick, dark hair stuck to his face in greasy strands, and his eyes were red and didn‘t open all the way. He rubbed his nose on the baggy sleeve of his dark blue hockey jersey. Stevie Stapleton wasn't built for New England winters.
On his nightstand, three empty peach cans gaped at him. There weren‘t any more. A streak of sunlight broke in from between the closed curtains, and the insides of the cans glinted earwax-yellow. With his little plastic fork, Stevie whisked the remaining syrup around inside one of the cans. It was thick and watery at the same time. He pushed the can away.
He didn‘t give any thought to the opened bottle of cough syrup beside his alarm clock. The label boasted a “wild cherry“ flavor, but it tasted more like shampoo and vodka. For some reason, Troy had told him to save some for him. That boy made Stevie worry sometimes.
It was almost lunctime. Stevie didn‘t need medicine or peach goo - he needed food. Holding both blankets tightly around his shoulders, he swung his toe-socked feet onto the floor.
This was the time of year where Edna‘s cooking was most bearable. Sure, it smelled like the dead and took too long to chew, but at least it was warm. And Stevie had long since finished Lance‘s stash of pork rinds and pretzels - much to his roommate‘s dismay - so there was nothing in his room to eat.
His blankets dragged on the hardwood floor behind him, picking up dust and used tissues in his wake. Stevie crossed over to the laundry basket beside the door, where his uniform sat in a heap. Melted snow gave the fabric a musty kind of smell that Stevie could not pick up with his clogged sinuses. But when he reached for it, he noticed it felt a little wet. It was warm, too. Gross.
It occurred to him then that, to get to the cafeteria, not only did he need to change his clothes, but he‘d need to walk his sickly behind through three inches of snow for almost five minutes.
Not worth it.
The small Bully sniffled, and rubbed his nose on his sleeve once more. This was quite the predicament.
Then he remembered Pedro - the boy kept his Halloween candy stashed under his bed. It had been barely a month since Halloween, so there was definitely some left over. If he knew Pedro, he’d make it last ‘til February. The kid was like a squirrel.
His outer blanket got caught in the door hinge as he left the room. Stevie let it fall behind - that was Lance’s blanket, anyway. His own blanket he pulled up over his head, to keep the cold out. The heating system in the Boys’ Dorm was busted, and no one had come around to fix it yet. As he walked, Stevie bundled up to fight the cold, leaving only his eyes uncovered. It made him feel like a ninja, creeping through the shadows. The blanket tripped him up kind of a lot, though.
Strings of colored lights blinked red and green and blue in the empty hallway. They hummed softly in the unnatural silence. Every now and then, Stevie thought he heard a distant squeak, or the scuttle of tiny paws. It didn’t bother him - as far as he was concerned, he already had the plague. But he didn’t like how damned quiet it was. Peace and quiet didn’t suit Bullworth Academy.
Just as he passed the empty common room, there was a rough scraping sound, and a gush of icy wind. Stevie, with his head full of sick, wasn’t startled by the noise. He took two more steps before realizing that something was amiss. The boy turned slowly. The thick blanket and layers of clothing made it kind of hard to move. As he listened to the thump of snow-boots on the common room floor, he hoped he wasn’t going to get beaten up. He had no chance of running away. And something about getting beaten up in striped toe-socks just didn’t seem right. He felt it‘d just be embarrassing for everyone involved.
The window squealed shut, and someone gave a heavy sigh. There was a defeated groan of the common‘s old sofa. A male voice laughed.
I got a little bit more, but this seemed like a good place to leave off for now. If anything, I hope it was coherent @_@
Guess I'll stuff my crapdoodles in this thread, too, so I don't stink up the rest of the board. Don't have any crapdoodles right now, though.