My Power of the Pen Stories

Week Four Story

PROMPT: The apology - Write about one you should've given, but didn't.
TITLE: Too Late
RANK: 1
WEEK: 4
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"Why would you do that?" I cry out, rushing to grasp my water-soaked art project. I feel anger build in my chest as the marker on the white poster begins to drip downwards, ruining every single one of my drawings. I stand abruptly, grabbing onto Jonah Baker's collar. He lets out a small yelp, immediately opening his mouth to defend himself.

"Look, it was a joke, I didn't mean for it to end this way... I didn't know THAT would happen! I swear," he stammers, and I can feel his heart racing in his chest. I clench his shirt tighter. I'm not buying it.

"I worked so hard on this, Jonah Baker. And now it's ruined. All thanks to you and your.. stupid jokes! All you've ever done is play pranks and mess up everything I do! And I'm sick of it!"

I burst. The anger explodes out of me like a human volcano. My free arm lifts up, preparing itself for the future task. My hand clenches, my long, black fingernails digging into the palm of my hand like mini daggers, but I ignore the pain, for my intense anger overwhelms me. And then I swing.

My knuckles hit him square in the face, a million prickles of pain shooting through my fist at once. I release him, and his hand flies up to his nose like they grew wings. He opens his mouth to speak, but I am already gone, leaving my ruined project at his feet.

I grip the door's handle, swinging it open and storming outside where I am greeted by utter silence, except for the pounding of my Converse on the concrete as I speed to a run to escape the middle school that looms behind me.

My breathing quickens, my chest moving in and out to the rhythm of my steps. My bookbag thumping repeatedly on my back as I run, my hair flying behind me, and the wind whistling in my ears all create an orchestra of sounds.

As I keep my steady pace towards my house which rests about five minutes from the school, my mind begins to work again, whirring to life once more. I start to reflect on my actions, which happened not even two minutes ago. An immense pang of guilt weighs me down suddenly, and I slow to a stop, plopping down on the sidewalk.

Maybe spilling a bottle of water on my school project isn't worthy of a punch to the face, I think to myself, chewing on my lip, thoughts swirling in my brain like a tornado.

"Jonah's my friend... I should apologize. I shouldn't have gotten angry over an inanimate object, even if he does stuff like this all the time," I say, not realizing that Jonah is approaching me, his eyes glued to the ground. It isn't until he passes me up that I see him, and I instantly begin to speak.

"Jonah, I-" I start, but am cut off by his expression, unforgiving and cold. I close my mouth and he is gone as quick as he came. As he disappears from sight, I curse myself for not apologizing... And to think I was so close...

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This is one of the ones I have mixed feelings about -- I feel like it's good, but it's missing something and I can't put a finger on it. It's really bugging me, xD. Maybe it just needs some background information, is all. Who knows. If you do, though, please comment. :P The question of the chapter is: Have you ever punched someone? Why?

-Olivia