Song of the day: Payphone – Maroon 5 (Check out the video on the side ‘cause it’s not what you think)
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Author’s note: Kind of a filler chapter, don’t hurt me :( Dedicated the above person ^^ (Up there) because she writes an amazing story and you guys should check it out (: it’s called skittles and Science.
I slept for about three hours, an uneasy sleep, where I tossed and turned on the sofa, dreaming of all the things that were going on, dreaming of the music flowing through my veins, and winning the competition. When I woke up, I knew there was no way I was going to get back to sleep, and death was still gone, so I flipped on the T.V.
At first I thought I was still asleep, when I saw his face appear on the screen. Grandpa Eric wasn’t really my grandpa. He was the guy who had pretty much raised me and Elliot, our “Nanny.” We called him grandpa Eric though. He was sitting in the waiting room, next to him was Denni. I didn’t see mom anywhere, but I figured she was there. Denni was crying, and I couldn’t watch it.
I changed the channel.
Jamie. He was sitting in a chair in the corner of a hospital room, hunched over with his head in his hands.
“I’m still here,” I told the T.V. knowing he couldn’t hear me. I finally let the tears roll out of my cheeks, mom was sitting next to me in the bed, my leg was in a cast, and had one of those things to keep it elevated it looked as if it was hanging from the roof, and there was gauze wrapped around my head. What was visible of me didn’t look good.
Mom was crying. The machines attached to my body beeped.
“Don’t cry, “ I shouted at the screen as I wiped my nose on my sleeve, “I’m not going to die,” I said the last part in a small childlike voice.
I went to change the channel again, but something made me stop and stare at the screen, and watch the two people who I needed most at this very moment, crying over me. I’d never seen Jamie cry before, in fact he’d always been happy, to see tears coming out of his eyes, only made me cry more.
“You’re late.” I said, to the long haired boy as he arrived at the table in the library, putting his things down, he sat down across from me.
“I’m a minute late,” he said raising a brow, “relax.”
“Relax?” I said slightly too loud, “you’re late and you’re telling me to relax, Jamie you idiot, I don’t even want to do this stupid project with you because I have much better things I could be doing with my life, and if you’re going to waste my time being late, I might as well do the whole project without you.” I said with a scowl on my face, I pursed my lips looking up at the boy, who had an apologetic look on his face.
“Ok take a chill pill,” He said, “Who died and made you queen anyway? You definitely are pretty enough to be the queen but with that attitude, I don’t think the people would like you much.”
“Do you have any ideas for the story?” I asked in an annoyed tone, blushing from his comment about being pretty enough to be a queen, I tapped the pencil on my notebook.
“I have a few,” He said with a grin, “Ok option number one- the gay shoe-“we’d been assigned to write a children’s book for English class, and I figured it would be easy, I was neither a good writer or an artist, but he was the artist, so all I had to do was form whatever we were talking about into a story and we’d be done. I’d never have to talk to his kid again. I hoped. He was weird.
I didn’t like him. He didn’t take anything seriously. I didn’t think I’d ever get a good response out of him.
“The gay shoe is that appropriate for eight year olds?” I asked, not even bothering to write down his stupid idea.
YOU ARE READING
Beating Death
Teen FictionDeath is perfect. He speaks every language, he can do anything you can do; play an instrument, draw paint, skateboard, write ect. ten times better then you can, and looks like a god in the face of a normal human, and the only way to escape the certa...