Living For The Fog

Keep On Running, Casey.

Run, run, run. That was all I could think as the wind blew through the grass and the whistle blew, signalling that I had to go faster. Faster than this? I don't think they understand how much work this is, standing there blowing their whistles watching us work our behinds off. Just keep running Casey, just a little further and you're done.

Of course I can already see the others at the finish, watching me failing to reach my goal. I can't keep running. Oh no, I'm going dizzy. Mayday! Mayday! Prepare for crash landing! Man down. Goodness this is hard work. That's strange, all I can see is blue... where did the green grass go? Oh I see, I'm lying on my back. That's the sky. Stay calm, don't hyperventilate this time. Here comes the PE teacher and the rest of the class to look down at me. It's the second time this year I've collapsed in the cross country races. Father will not be pleased with me.

"Casey, can you hear me?" Says Mr Whitall, the PE teacher.

"Yes," I gasp, I'm not sure if my lungs can withstand breathing this fast for much longer. "Yes I can hear you sir. I'm fine."

"Up you get Casey. Sam, take him to the nurse." Mr Whitall pauses to look around at the rest of the class. "And you lot, a lap around the track for good measure. Off you go." he orders, setting off groans and sighs of annoyance from my classmates. Sam Gardener helped me to my feet and together we walked slowly and steadily back over from the sports field, across the road and into the school. He's a nice guy, Sam. It's a shame he doesn't bother talking to me. We could probably be quite good friends. I wonder if he shares my interest in collecting old Pokemon cards, I have a whole book of them. Of course collecting game cards isn't my father's idea of a good way to occupy my time. All he ever seems to say to me is "You're wasting your time with those, boy. Why don't you go and play rugby with the other boys your age?".

The problem is, I'm not much like the other boys my age. I'm 15 and one half and one of the only boys who hasn't had their growth spurt in my year yet. I don't have any interest in girls and I don't like rugby. Most especially of all, I do not like running.

We've reached the school now. I feel strange walking with Sam, he's taller than me and quite muscular as oppose to chubby. One of the main focuses of schools in the past month has been to fitten us up, almost as if they're preparing us for something. What that may be, however, is beyond me and I don't see why I should bother myself thinking about it, so I don't. I'll never be fit anyway, I know that for a fact. Even when I try to be healthy something goes wrong so there's no point in trying. But back to Sam. He's quite good looking too, not just muscular. He has nice curly black hair and big brown eyes, all of the girls fancy him at some point. I wonder what it would be like to date a guy. Not that I'm interested in him, I'm just wondering. Almost all of the books I read have a main character with a boyfriend or girlfriend in them. They talk about how they feel so safe with each other, how much they love them and that they would do anything for them. I don't know about doing anything for someone but feeling safe sounds quite good. The streets are dangerous between school and where I live and it's quite scary on your own in the dark, especially in the winter when it's cold and icy.

Here we are, the nurse's room. Sam knocks on the door and walks off, leaving me stood alone outside the door waiting to be called in. I watch him walk off, noting the slight swagger in his step. Okay, maybe I am a little bit interested in him. But just a little.