Purgatory of a Fireman
Disclaimer for ENTIRE STORY: I do not own Naruto or the characters.
This is a small slice of life story, mostly of which I was just messing around with my style. There are 7 chapters, about 7k words.
And okay, so, honestly, this was a complete trial run for me.
I don't usually write drama and romance so freely, so, neh. D:
First time for everything.
And I know I messed up dreadfully on the tenses, switching from past to present in a flicker. Sorry about that. It makes sense in a twisted sort of a way.
But any suggestions, much appreciated.
Thanks.
Purgatory of a Fireman
Madoneko (formerly Corruption inc.), July 2008
Dedicated to Amanda
Because romance is a fleeting, inescapable drama, that makes your life so much like a soap opera, you're singing in the shower.
And because boys are trouble you don't want to live without, and your stories about them are timeless.
And because, dude, I'm your best friend.
Just remember to keep your head high, your dreams close, the drama of life at an arms length, and the boys unapproved by me,
Miles away.
Purgatory of a Fireman – Entry 1
Hello, my name is Sakura, but you can call me Saku. It's much easier to say, and it's a simple way to reduce a three syllable name to a two syllable name. To start this off, I'm not a writer. I'm not a speaker (trust me. This one time, I had to give an English presentation, and I fainted. No exaggerations here) either. I can't call myself a skater, or an artist, or a dancer, or a poet, or a sister, or even just a great kisser. My label goes as far from just 'shy and smart' as a dog from its kennel. And picture the dog as being hot glued to the kennel. Or just picture snoopy. I imagine you get the point.
(Which, right now is actually 3 – negative 2. Not kidding. Math is the only class I completely dominate in.)
But without further a due, I present the protagonist of my story, me. Me; being; the girl who sits in the left hand corner to the right of Mr. Hatake's fourth period Advanced Calculus class. Which I am acing with a no-sweat piece of cake level of work, because, yes ladies and gentlemen; I'm just that damn good at math.
My father, actually, when I was little, was so proud of me, he started trying to teach me geometry. Square is 4 x 4, he would say, and I would fling my mashed potatoes at him. Oh yes, I had my mad mathematician skills even as a one and a half year old, I swear. And actually, while I find this to be a completely useless quality, my best friend Tenten always reaffirms that she'd trade me her 'useless' (absolutely gorgeous-voiced) singing skill for mine with math, because she's sick of being stuck retaking Algebra II. Which I'd be fine with doing, if I had the method.
(Oh ho ho ho, and believe me, one day I will. I will use my mad math skills to develop a machine to trade skills, and then we will do business.)
I mean, when I'm completely modest about Tenten's singing skills, I'm about saying she'd make Simon Cowell have a heart attack from the beauty of her voice. No joke. I've almost considered not going to karaoke night with her anymore, she puts me to so much shame. But she's a great friend. In her own crazy, "Sakura we have dye to all my blue sweaters green!" kind of a way. But I love that about her.
And just as I finish my final thoughts about her and her crazy urges to color things unnaturally, the bell rings, and I'm set free, like an eagle onto the wind. And through a door, and down a ramp, and onto an asphalt littered with gum. And Tenten, coming out of her ever so conveniently close class to mine, spots me and runs over. Avoiding every piece of gum she can, of course, because she has an issue with walking normally.
"Hey Sakura, you're so fine!" Is her greeting to me as she almost bumps into me, presenting me with her traditional thumbs-up as she struggles to balance over a stray piece of gum she almost stepped on.
"Can't say the same, got your watch on?" Is my established answer back that flows out absentmindedly.
"No! The time is not…ten ten, yet!" Is her attempted comeback for today.
(I have been saying this to her since we met in elementary school. She still hasn't come up with a praise-worthy enough retort for me to cease my teasing.)
I chuckle once and begin to walk off to where we eat lunch, Tenten close in step, hovering over the gum, behind me.
This is how I'll start my story, with my friend and me heading off to eat lunch. I'm Sakura; and I suppose you could call me a speaker, just because I've managed to write an entire page about how I'm not.