VERNO WAS THE AWKWARDEST OF US ALL. He remained awkward up until we were juniors in highschool. He joined the football team and lost all of his "baby fat" as his mother called it. It was a shock to me that he died first though, I always thought that it would have been Teddy, he was crazy enough.
Vern had turned into an alcoholic after highschool. His mother died tragically and suddenly for some unknown reason. He turned to alcohol at 19 and his alcoholism continued until his death in 1966. I hadn't talked to him since his mother died. His death was, in my opinion, the easiest to deal with. I can't say the same for Teddy though. That was the first time I had actually seen him cry since Milo Pressman, the junk man, had talked so rudely about Teddy's father back in the summer of 1959.
Vern and I had never been all that close, but his death was still hard. I think that it was because he was young and it was so unexpected. Seeing his picture, which was on the cardboard box that held his ashes, looking nothing like the Vern I had known as a child and a teenager. It was hard.
I even remember the last conversation we had. He had come to visit me after his mother died. He was a mess, poor kid.
"How are you doin', Verno?" I had asked.
"I'm better than I've been," He responded.
"Well that's good, If you need anything I'm here."
"Alright. Thanks, Gordo. Keep In touch," He told me as he left. We never did though.
(Third Person Point Of View)
It was night time. Vern was partying with a friend that he had been close with during highschool. There was booze and of course, Vern couldn't help himself.
"Calm down there, Verno," one of his buddies said, putting a hand on his shoulder as he took Vern's beer. It must've been his 12th.
Vern stumbled after his friend, determined to get his beer back. His friend kept walking, Vern kept following.
"Give it back," He slurred as he stumbled around.
"Vern go chill out before you-"
Vern's eyes rolled back in his head as he fell back onto the floor. His friend muttered curses under his breath as he left Vern there and went into the livingroom.
Another friend of Vern's sat back in the recliner smoking a cigarette. A girl, about 20 walked by the friend, a beer in her hand. He jumped up quickly, dropping the cigarette on the chair, and chased after the girl.
The cigarette sat on the chair, smoldering. Slowly, the chair began to smoke. Those idiots were too drunk to notice.
The next thing anyone knew the chair was on fire. Screams and panic erupted from the small house. Everyone ran out. Except Vern. The neighbors called the fire station as the flames moved about the house.
They moved across the carpet and up the wallpaper, Indulging everything in their sight. One of those things was Vern. He was swallowed whole by the flames.
He died a very slow and painful death.