𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎: 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜.

27 1 0
                                    

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑠. ||

   "I Ran, I was real upset,  first time in awhile

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

   "I Ran, I was real upset, 
first time in awhile. . ." —He seemed sincere. wholeheartedly. matter of fact.   

    My gut twisted again whilst I eyed my sneakers.  

"Well. I fell off this real steep cliff."     King cracked a dim whoop like he wasn't sure of his words.

    "—Hill. Then I realized, there's a house right there,
and the  guy,  real  big  guy, Country boy. . .
   —man, i just remember he held a shotgun to my head.  His wife called the ambulance. I'm sure I looked like a real hoodlum— trying to sneak in and steal their cattle."
He spoke coolly with the occasional hand fixtures and scoffs.

He spoke coolly, coolly like he wasn't just shot, and like he didn't look like he was about to knock on death's door, he was done for.  
   He looked beat, and at that moment,
I wanted him to meet god.
   Like the first time I did at some dinky summer camp.       They baptised me in the cold springwater.    
It wasn't in Tommy King's best interest.    
—I think we all sulked in his words.    

   The thing that kills me is that he'd just crack up. It was all a joke, and I wanted to yell at that boy. It wasn't a joke, wake up, Tommy wake up!

   "Your gonna be alright, bud."

Johnny nearly comforted, standing next to the expensive looking bed.
He'd whisper the same sentence over and over again, it almost made my eyes split and drain, golly.

   "I know. . ." Tommy looked up to Johnny and grinned, druggedly.

"Yeah, your gonna come home back to washington, hop some bars. . ." Princess swooped, even though we would never barhop.   We were seventeen and under, Princess was full of it.

   "About that. . ." Tommy King grinned once more then it turned somber.  "She said, uh. . . I'm  not  going  home."     His eyes were featured on nothingness, his brown, cold hard eyes— were cracking, even at the fact his own dad didn't come, nor seem to woe.

   At that moment, I truly believed it when people say "People die when they give up, or forgotten." Ma would tell me and Johnny that, and she meant it. Just like pop.

   I stood across from Johnny, King separating us,

"What. . . ? What's going on now?"

Johnny poked his head out of the door frame, fronting a partial desk where an official lady stood.

"What the hell is going on?" He repeated, out of the doorframe now.

   The lady walked into the room past Johnny checking the medical records he had on a flimsy tray next  to  his  bed.

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞Where stories live. Discover now