Chapter Eight: On the Table
Part: One
[Ringo's POV]
I inspected all the basics to the essentials around the aspect of Hope. Her glowering up at me with her feeble rounded sight. It was time for her, of course the instant to.
I stood in the hallway beside Twan, each of my hands jammed into my pockets at a stage of wonder; my back constrained up against the rigid walls by the room she was settled in.
"Likewise, but I doubt it bein' true." I stated in a muffled protest not in favor of my lips, remaining partway shut afterwards. "She'll make it, she's got the name Hope to count on 'er."
Twanise grunted, running a brush through her frizzy hair with a smirk. We spent all the night in the hospital room with Hope, we haven't had time to brush our teeth and do our hair.
"Naw, man. I ain't gonna think 'bout that shit in her name." Twanise began with that roll of her eyes that irritated me. When she bent down to look upon my frowning, she did it again. "Ritchie, you look fucked the hell up. Wanna go out to eat?"
"Like, on a date?" I quizzed, squishing the brows on my face together like a unibrow.
She snickered to herself, sticking the side of her index finger into her mouth. "Hell naw. Just as a bunch of buds, y'know?"
"Hm, I suppose-." Before I could take what she said into a consideration, she clutched unto my hand and hauled me away to the parking lot. "Oh joy, I'm forced to eat."
She unlocked the car's door with the silver key in her hand, and she motioned for me to get in. "Fuck yeah! Besides, we got shit to talk about."
"Like what?" I asked, observing the grungy little car with by its every corner.
She started the stick shift, giving me a 'You Know' look. It seemed she hesitated for a bit, then she pointed a jagged finger at me with a devious grin.
"I know you like Hope fucking dip-shit."
# # #
Twanise has a cursing problem, don't yeh dare blame me for the language issues, it's just her character of being that bad-ass girl everyone has to know. I'm just sitting here, searching on ways to improve, and all I wanna know is... how? If you see anything out of place, (or wrong), could y'let me know?
*Attempts to moonwalk, but ends up back first into the wall nearby.* I've found a new and trendy, (to the sixties), person to give a fab dedication to! @ladymarma since she was one of the first to read this tale, just a very special thanks!
-Louie Becton | 2013
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Superior
Fanfic(A Beatles Fan-Fiction. . .) Ringo Starr isn't the first to pop up when you say: favorite Beatle, ay'? He's underrated, unlikeable, and forgettable. After one night on his birthday in the city of Harlem, the rest of the fab four decide to give him...
