Ok Guys! This one is for school! No cursing or anything like that! I had to rewrite an event from the story and add in a new character. My character is named Scribbles! This is a Tall Tale. She had to have superpowers…. What a lovely project, right? So in a way, only this one part. Please review! So, yeah, um, this is pretty nice….. OK! I'm starting now!
A Fight with the Beast
When Cathy and I entered the gym, we saw Mark. He was with Curtis Ponyboy and Scribble. Now let me tell you a little about Scribble. For one thing, her name ain't Scribble. Her actual name is Heather McGinley, but she's always drawing. Even right now! She has a sketch pad with her! I don't understand how someone could be drawn into something like that for fun. Second, she's a tall chick. About 5'6" I'd say. She's also a Brit! Sometimes you can't understand a freakin' word she's saying!
She has several piercings, probably about four earrings on each ear and one on her eyebrow. You may catch a glimpse at the one on her tongue if you get her real ticked off. Besides that, she's very kind-hearted and sweet. Unless you cross her. Tried that once, got three stitches on the lip, a black eye, and probably a broken rib, but then again, I tried to kiss her while I was drunk. Decided she ain't worth it. She doesn't even smoke, drink, nothing! Also, she wears gloves all the time, no matter what season it is, she's always wearing those things! Creepy…..
The only thing that really scares me about her, she carries around a switchblade. An expensive one too. She may be one of those chicks who want to get into college, but she will threaten people with that knife.
Mark walked over with Scribble and Ponyboy at each side.
"Hey there, Scrib," she wasn't very gregarious so she gave a nod in reply, "Terry here?"
"Yeah, he knocked himself out with too much booze!" Mark sounded excited. He usually loved it when Terry passed out cold. He would be able to mess with him while he slept. Ponyboy and Scribble just gave blank expressions. They didn't care whether or not Mark killed him in his sleep or not. Scribble and Ponyboy may do similar things as Mark and I, but sometimes I question why they hang out with him.
"We probably should go, Terry's gonna flip out if we aren't there when he wakes up and finds beer spilled all over him," Mark gave a wave good-bye and, again, Scribble just nodded while Ponyboy gave a small grin. They headed out the back doors of the old gym.
I gave a grin to Cathy and she returned with a smile. I asked her to dance and she replied yes. It would've been a lovely night, until the ostentatious Angela came up to me and talked to me a few times. Every time Cathy and I tried to go somewhere, she'd show up traverse the area we were at. Her visage showed pure hatred towards Cathy, as though she had stolen something precious from her. But then again, I did go out with her for a while.
Occasionally, I would see Scribble in the corner, drawing of course; probably she had gotten tired of Mark and his gang breathing the smell of alcohol on her. She was pretty indolent over there. She even took out a book a few times after she had drawn a sketch or two. Never took her for a bibliophile. I couldn't imagine turning pages in a book while wearing such gaudy gloves. I always did wonder why she wore them. A fashion statement? She's never really been into fashion. She's always wearing a black tank and camouflage pants with combat boots. Real bold.
Cathy wasn't at all bothered at the fact I kept looking over at Heather. She knew that she was probably very lonely over in the little interstice, and thought it was best to check on her every so often. I had the feeling that she had reminded her of M&M.
At about 9:30, Scribble got up and went back outside. She probably wanted to check on the guys to see if she was going to have to drive them home or not. I quit worrying and began to dance along with Cathy once again. The dance wasn't going to end till about midnight, or so we thought.
In the parking lot
Mark was sitting in the back seat of Terry's car with Scribble, while Ponyboy was in the front with the out cold Terry. Mark continued to drink while Scribble drew him. Scribble liked drawing people, and at that, Mark. She had had a crush on Mark for a while now, but didn't want to get involved with him, considering he's always drinking and smoking.
The energy outside was so sanguine until a random person arrived.
"Which one of you is Curtis Ponyboy?" Mark and Ponyboy exchanged looks and Scribble glanced up from her sketch book. The man before them was quite shady and he seemed to be asking for trouble. When no one answered, he noticed Ponyboy looked the most nervous.
"I reckon you're Ponyboy, right?" the man grabbed the front of Ponyboy's shirt and gave a small, twisted grin, "They didn't tell me it was going to be so easy," before they knew it, Ponyboy had been flung out of the car, on to the concrete. Mark's first instinct was to jump out of the back of the car and fight the man back. While Mark and the man quarreled, Scribble brought out her switchblade. She jumped out and checked if Ponyboy was O.K. He sat up and gave a little smile and she gave one back. She patted him on the back and joined the fight.
Mark backed away as Scribble fought the man. Within seconds, the man had about five cuts on his arm and a long, bleeding scratch across his face. He snarled at Scribble, which only made her grin grow bigger. She placed the blade into her pocket and started to do hand-to-hand combat. She gained three punches in the face and a couple kicks to the stomach. She moved like lightning as she tripped the man and pushed him to the ground with amazing strength. They battled a bit for dominance, but she won in the end. She removed one of the gloves she had been wearing. When Mark was helping Ponyboy recover, she placed it on his face. It burned like acid. The reason why she always wore gloves was because, for some strange reason, when she touched any other skin besides hers with her bare hands, she would end of burning them like acid. The man was now screeching in torture. She soon let go of him when she saw Ponyboy and Mark were headed towards them. She stood up and put the glove back on her dangerous hands.
Ponyboy pushed her back so that he could gain a turn. He didn't get as many direct hits as Scribble did, but then again, no one did, but he did get several.
In return, the man hit Ponyboy a few times an ended up hitting him in the stomach, making him drop to the ground. The man picked up a broken bottle. Mark saw what was about to happened a decided what any déclassé person would've done for a fellow ally. He stepped in front of Ponyboy.
Back inside the gym
Cathy and I were having a heck of a time. It was the most fun I had in ages. Well, that is if you don't include smoking and drinking. I was having so much fun, till I heard screams come from the parking lot.
"Hey everyone! I think Mark's hurt!" I went cold. Mark was hurt.
Cathy and I ran outside to see what had happened. I saw Mark lying on the ground with a pale Heather leaned down beside down. I ran over to the other side of him. He had blood spilling out of his head. It was hard to serene when something like this had happened.
"What happened?" Scribble looked up with a few tears in her eyes.
"H-h-he blocked a bottle from hitting P-ponyboy," it was already hard enough to understand her with her accent, but everyone just stared at her like she was talking gibberish. For some reason, I understood her.
I saw a man being pushing into a cop car, with Angela talking to him. She must've hired a man to go after Ponyboy after he "rejected" her.
When the ambulance arrived, I told Heather she should go home. She was resistant at first, but she eventually decided to leave when she found out Mark would probably be very tired and in a lot of pain. They pushed Mark inside the vehicle while Cathy, Ponyboy, and I stepped in behind and sat on the small bench beside him. Terry was still in the front seat of the car, and probably will wake in the morning, wondering what had happened, seeing how there was blood spread across the concrete. Mark had opened up his eyes a bit and stared directly at me.
"Am I dead?" Mark laughed a bit.
"No you're not, idiot," I gave sigh of relief when he heard the sound of Mark's weak voice. Mark just continued to stare into space.
The last thing I saw before the doors of the ambulance closed, was Scribble praying.
Like it? Review! Again, sorry if it isn't my best work. I normally write yaoi stories and I don't really rewrite a part of anything! I like coming up with my own topics! Please, enjoy my other work as well! Thanks!