Mordecai
destractivegodofdarkness
Registered: Jan 2001
Location: library
Posts: 19562 |
Young Fear
The boy rode his bike around the circle at the end of his street, in his mind, racing a motorcycle across the country side, pedaling harder and faster, his breath becoming ragged. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure waving at him. It was Zack, the older boy from across the street, signalling him to come over. The boy knew his mother didn't like him to play with the older boy and considered him a trouble maker, being 13 to the younger boy's 9. Despite his mothers wishes, the boy idolized Zack, with his long black hair and dark skin. Leaning to the right he pedaled over to the driveway where Zack stood and skidded to a halt next to him.
"Hey."
"C'mere, I have something to show you" Zack gestured towards the open garage door, "Leave your bike here."
Dropping his bike unconcernedly the boy followed him into garage. The floor was stained with oil and dog urine and smelled terribly. Zack reached up and hit the switch for the garage door and it rattled shut, closing with an echoing thud. With the door closed and the summer sun beating down on the door from the outside, the smells seemed to intensify.
Zack walked over to the work bench at the back of the garage and reached inside a battered red plastic tool box and pulled something out, quickly hiding it behind his back and then began walking back towards the smaller boy.
"Whatcha got?" asked the younger boy, trying to lean around to see what was concealed. The older boy just grinned and took several steps closer to the younger boy and grabbed the collar of his shirt. He revealed it to be a pistol in his hand by pressing it against the cheek of the now shocked boy. He felt the rough unfinished drywall against his back and smelled mustard on Zack's breath.
"You ever seen a gun before?" Shaking his head, the boy clamped down on the sphincters in his body that so desperately wanted to loosen, knowing that if he shit himself right then, he would die.
Zack shoved him against the wall, took several steps back and levelled the gun at him, arms straight out like the police in the television shows.
"You know what russian roulette is? That's when I have one bullet in the cylinder, I spin it, and pull the trigger, maybe you die, maybe you don't." As he spoke the words he pointed the gun up, spun the cylinder and levelled it again. He grinned at the boy standing motionless against the wall. The boy looked straight at him and waited for eport of the gun while wishing he has listened to his mother. Fear coursed through his veins in a way he'd never felt before. The hammer fell on an empty chamber with an metallic click. Zack spun the chamber and again, the hammer struck nothing. The cylinder was set to spinning again, and the young boy was sure this time the gun would roar and his life would end, when someone banged on the garage door.
Giving his victim a stern look and gesture, he hit the switch on the door, it raised partway creaking and groaning to reveal Zack's best friend Dave, peeking uder the partially open door
"Dave, get in here!" Zack stopped the door where it was. The taller blonde boy had ducked inside. He pulled the pistol out from his waistband where he'd shoved it when the knock had startled him.
"Whoa, what're you doing with your dad's gun?"
"Playing Russian roulette with the shrimp over there."
"Sweet, let me play!"
Dave spun the cylinder and pointed the revolver at the boy's crotch and laughed, "I'm gonna blow your nuts off!" but once again, the hammer struck only air.
"Let's put three in the gun!" said Zack, pulling a box of rounds from his pocket and spilling some into his hand. Dave grabbed two and jokingly stuffed them in his nostrils and made a funny face. Zack laughed raucously. Niether was paying any attention to boy across the garage.
The boy stood there watching them toy with the ammo and argue over who was going to load it, feeling his fear churning in his gut and slowly changing. Suddenly rage exploded inside in him and he launched himself across the garage, colliding with the older boys. He slapped the ammo box from Zacks hand, kicked Dave in the shin. Two steps and he was at the door, where he dropped, rolled under the door and sprinted to his bicycle. Jumping on, he pedaled furiously for home, the sounds of laughter from the garage following him.
-m
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01-19-2002 02:40 AM
