CREATURES OF THE PAST

Friends forever

Damian finished his breakfast in silence and, afterwards, placed everything in order: the bowl and a spoon go to dishwashing machine and the coaster goes to the kitchen counter. He knows his mother likes when he cleans up after himself, and he wanted to make her feel better because she was pretty upset when she left. He decided that he would stop trying to talk with her about the things he sees because she's just not ready for it. Maybe she will never be.

Its Sunday, his favorite day of the week and he decided to spend it as he always does: with his best friend Owen. Owen lived two houses away and was always at home. He was a fat kid everyone jerked around, so he was leaving the house only in case of an emergency; like some family thing or an earthquake that luckily still didn't occur. And for school. Because of the fact he was closed indoors most of the time, he always had the coolest gadgets and he read a lot. He was not so intelligent, but he was smart all right.

All of this qualities were highly appreciated by Damian, a third child who was not taken serious in his own house, who was always treated like a child although he isn't one anymore and who couldn't afford himself all the cool books and gadgets. Maybe the first motives for this relationship were wrong from Damian's side, but now it's not about things and access to something that he doesn't have at home, now it's a true friendship between two ten year old boys.

Outside, it was a warm and sunny spring day, one of the first after winter and people will sure know to appreciate it, because the memory of a winter cold was still close to them. Like many others that day, Damian also stepped on the sideway and smiled. It's Sunday, it's sunny and he has the whole day to do whatever he wants. What else could he wish for? He sat on his bike and rode himself two houses down the street. Of course, he could have walked this distance, but what if later on he decides to go somewhere further? Then he would have to return to the house to get the bike and then sure someone would ask him where he is going and why. To avoid all the fuss, he took the bike just in case he needs it and carefully leaned it on Owens garage.

- "Owen! Damian is here!", Owens mother shouted up the stairs when she let him in and lost her way somewhere in the kitchen.

Damian was already at the top of the stairs when Owen appeared at the doorway.

- "You're late", he concluded and let him in his room.

- "I missed it?", Damian asked disappointed and rushed to the window hoping he'll be able to see something.

- "They just left a minute ago", Owen said and sat down in front of computer.

- "Shit!", Damian said and throw himself on the bed.

- "What was she wearing?"

- "She had a red skirt and a blue sweater", Owen answered proudly because he remembered. He knew Damian would ask that, so he paid attention to her clothes. She is Sheila, goes to the same school as they are, and Damian has a crush for her ever since last Christmas party, when their first and, for now, last conversation took place. Every Sunday, she goes to church with her mother and she passes by Owens house from where Damian usually looks at her. If he is not late like today.

- "Maybe it would be easier if you would speak to her", Owen suggested.

Damian was biting his lower lip.

- "I know. I will."

- "When? You're waiting for this year's Xmas party?"

Damian lifted a pillow as a warning sign that he will throw it on him if he doesn't shut up.

- "Ok, ok, I'm just saying..."

- "With how many girls did you talk?", Damian asked.

- "I'm not talking with them, you know that", he said. – "I'm afraid of them."

- "You're stupid", Damian smiled.

- "Oh, if you are so smart, then go and talk to Sheila instead of spying on her for four months now", Owen mocked.

- "I didn't say I'm smart, I just said you're stupid", Damian said and Owen approached him holding another pillow.

- "Boys!", Owens father interrupted them.

- "Hi, Mr. K.", Damian said happy to avoid Owens kick.

- "Do you want anything?", he asked polite. – "Juice, milk?"

They said they were fine and a burly body of Mr. K. waddled down the stairs looking for Mrs. K.