Strikit
Procrastinator Extraordinaire
- 1,559
- Posts
- 15
- Years
- Age 32
- Your house
- Seen Aug 5, 2016
This fic will be rated PG-13 for mild language, and mature themes. Among these are homosexuality, suicide, and fatal leukemia. If any of these offend you I suggest that you turn back now.
It will be written in journal format, in case you couldn't tell. I'm trying to keep a casual tone that could be from a sixteen year old boy. PM me with pointers if you think I'm lacking anything. If you would like to beta read for me don't hesitate to tell me.
NOTE: The title is tentative and on the spot, since when it's finished I'll probably have a different title for it.
I should probably introduce myself. My name is Ethan, I'm 17, and I live in a mid-sized town in east Texas. Before everything happened my parents were trying to repair their failed marriage, I had a new car, and I finally had a chance with the girl I was always staring at in chemistry. As far as I was concerned, things couldn't get any better. The problem was, I had no idea just how quickly my world could crumble around me.
September 12, 2005
Home
Our seating arrangement in chemistry changed today. I still can't believe my luck. Not only is my best friend Marty seated to my right, but Lyra is to my left. She wasn't there yet when I got in, so I went to sit next to Marty. He immediately started teasing me and asked if I needed to refresh my makeup. He's never let that incident go. I let Ashley give me eyeliner once, and he takes the opportunity to question my masculinity at every chance. Marty isn't one to talk. He's a big fan of what he calls "guyliner." He insists the circumstances were different, but he really just wants a loophole so he can use it against me.
Anyway, I made Marty promise to keep his mouth shut. I'm pretty sure he will. He's a good guy, and he knows I'd kill him. At least for a few hours. It's hard to stay mad at him.
Lyra got in a few seconds before the bell rang, as usual. We talked about nothing for a minute or two until Marty kicked me under the desk. I looked up and noticed the Dragon watching. We call our Chemistry teacher the Dragon for two reasons. One, if you piss her off once she'll make the rest of your life a living hell. Two, you'd better hope that she never breathes on you. The aroma that follows could make an onion cry. So I guess I understand he was watching my back. What I don't understand is why he seemed angry when Lyra and I started passing notes. He was probably just afraid the Dragon would catch us. We've been close since before Marty's mom left. That makes it… what, nine years? It's hard to know someone for that long and not be pretty much inseparable. So we look out for each other. He keeps me from getting eaten by the Dragon, I give him a place to come to on the weekends to escape the house. So that could only be why he fumed up.
The rest of class was pretty uneventful. But Marty kept acting weird. Almost jealous. Oh well. I'm probably just crazy, making something out of nothing. He has his days and today was one of them. I swear, he has more mood swings than a pregnant woman. So how do we even get along? I really couldn't tell you. We're so different in so many ways. For instance, I've never seen Marty with a girl. He just doesn't date. I've never put much thought into it, but I figure it's probably because of his dad's flavors of the week. They stress him out and kind of make him cynical towards chicks in general. And I guess he's a little flamboyant. He has what I call parrot hair. At least every three months it's a different color. Right now it's scarlet red. Very bright. It's a miracle the school even allows him to keep it. I think they've realized there's really nothing they can do about it; he'll have it if he wants it. And if they make him dye it a normal color, he'll dye it right back the next day. So it's just easier.
The microwave beeped. Gotta go get my dinner.
It will be written in journal format, in case you couldn't tell. I'm trying to keep a casual tone that could be from a sixteen year old boy. PM me with pointers if you think I'm lacking anything. If you would like to beta read for me don't hesitate to tell me.
NOTE: The title is tentative and on the spot, since when it's finished I'll probably have a different title for it.
*****
Life is a beautiful thing. It's sad, how we take it for granted. It's way too fragile to be considered a certainty. This in mind, I have to ask myself what I'm doing to appreciate life to its full potential. Most people my age are under the misconception that there's a barrier. They're wrong. The barrier only stands as high as you let it. Mine used to be pretty high, and I never even realized it. It took a tragedy to create a miracle. Author's Notes
This space will be used for notes, such as when to expect the next chapter, and thanks to people who've helped me.
Special thanks to M.E.B., who's been nothing but supportive. Thank you, sweetheart.
Thanks to M.L.D. for allowing me to use your likeness and inspiration for Marty.
More to come.
Special thanks to M.E.B., who's been nothing but supportive. Thank you, sweetheart.
Thanks to M.L.D. for allowing me to use your likeness and inspiration for Marty.
More to come.
*****
Prologue
Prologue
I should probably introduce myself. My name is Ethan, I'm 17, and I live in a mid-sized town in east Texas. Before everything happened my parents were trying to repair their failed marriage, I had a new car, and I finally had a chance with the girl I was always staring at in chemistry. As far as I was concerned, things couldn't get any better. The problem was, I had no idea just how quickly my world could crumble around me.
September 12, 2005
Home
Our seating arrangement in chemistry changed today. I still can't believe my luck. Not only is my best friend Marty seated to my right, but Lyra is to my left. She wasn't there yet when I got in, so I went to sit next to Marty. He immediately started teasing me and asked if I needed to refresh my makeup. He's never let that incident go. I let Ashley give me eyeliner once, and he takes the opportunity to question my masculinity at every chance. Marty isn't one to talk. He's a big fan of what he calls "guyliner." He insists the circumstances were different, but he really just wants a loophole so he can use it against me.
Anyway, I made Marty promise to keep his mouth shut. I'm pretty sure he will. He's a good guy, and he knows I'd kill him. At least for a few hours. It's hard to stay mad at him.
Lyra got in a few seconds before the bell rang, as usual. We talked about nothing for a minute or two until Marty kicked me under the desk. I looked up and noticed the Dragon watching. We call our Chemistry teacher the Dragon for two reasons. One, if you piss her off once she'll make the rest of your life a living hell. Two, you'd better hope that she never breathes on you. The aroma that follows could make an onion cry. So I guess I understand he was watching my back. What I don't understand is why he seemed angry when Lyra and I started passing notes. He was probably just afraid the Dragon would catch us. We've been close since before Marty's mom left. That makes it… what, nine years? It's hard to know someone for that long and not be pretty much inseparable. So we look out for each other. He keeps me from getting eaten by the Dragon, I give him a place to come to on the weekends to escape the house. So that could only be why he fumed up.
The rest of class was pretty uneventful. But Marty kept acting weird. Almost jealous. Oh well. I'm probably just crazy, making something out of nothing. He has his days and today was one of them. I swear, he has more mood swings than a pregnant woman. So how do we even get along? I really couldn't tell you. We're so different in so many ways. For instance, I've never seen Marty with a girl. He just doesn't date. I've never put much thought into it, but I figure it's probably because of his dad's flavors of the week. They stress him out and kind of make him cynical towards chicks in general. And I guess he's a little flamboyant. He has what I call parrot hair. At least every three months it's a different color. Right now it's scarlet red. Very bright. It's a miracle the school even allows him to keep it. I think they've realized there's really nothing they can do about it; he'll have it if he wants it. And if they make him dye it a normal color, he'll dye it right back the next day. So it's just easier.
The microwave beeped. Gotta go get my dinner.
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