Sorry to anyone who got completely confused by 'Chris', it was accidental, I edited it for a friend, and as she has no idea I ever watched Thunderbirds, I changed Virg's name, so when it said 'Chris' it meant Virgil, sorry!!!!
I decided to change it a bit.... but not over the top.
I left the mailbox in, though!
If you've read it before, perhaps you should read it through, to note the changes.
Please r&r!
Phoenix
---x---
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gordon groaned when Scott swung his door open, cringing at the unanticipated light, he'd been awake for the last ten minutes, pondering wether to go back to sleep or to get up.
"You've been asleep for hours!" Scott yelled at him, Gordon flinched, the sound resounded within his head "It's ten o'clock!"
Scott then switched the light on, precipitating further pain, Gordon yanked the covers over his head, detecting footsteps, he sighed, it was the old practice, in a minute.....
Scott tipped the bed up, making Gordon roll out onto the floor, he inescapably climbed wearily to his feet, accepting vanquish, scowling at the grin he was awarded, the grin transformed to a frown in about ten seconds.
"Hey, Gordo, you look like you spent all last night drinking, you've got a hangover."
Discovery of the century. Gordon thought bitterly, he stalked stormily out of the room, pushing past the villainous Scott, who fell back, thoroughly uncaring, Gordon departed for the lounge.
He was resigned to the reality that the lounge would be even brighter than his room, but the conclusion of being able to get a cup of coffee more or less made it worth it.
It was. Incomparably too bright. Gordon stayed at the door, Virgil gave him a glance, head cocked, then shrugged and returned to his own cup.
Giving up with the idea of getting coffee, he turned and plodded, defeated, back to his room, thankfully, Scott had gone.
Gordon closed the door softly then climbed back onto his bed, lifting and unfolding the letter that was beneath his pillow.
He read it, like he had last night, with tears arising to his eyes, still incapable of accepting what had caused him to drink himself almost unconscious the previous night.
He finally folded it again, sighing, he couldn't brood on it, anyway, he had to tell Virgil sooner or later, even though she had been a year younger...
And Gordon had been in the same year.
And now.... he couldn't sustain to think about it.
Oh no, more footsteps, the door opened, again.
This time, he was relieved to see, it was not Scott, but Virgil, the brothers differed, Scott would make you get up, Virgil would just, recommend it, though he was not known for his potential to wake up early himself.
Virgil shut the door.
"Hey, Gordon, are you okay? You seemed a bit, depressed."
I am in a family of masterminds, they can calculate any perplexing or complicated problem so effortlessly. Gordon grinned to himself.
"Ah, you have reached the same astonishing truth as Scott, then, that I'm hung over." He queried, a smile on his face, Virgil looked awkward, and then nodded.
"I guessed so, so, why the sudden hang over?" Virgil inquired, taking up position beside Gordon, who sighed, passing over the letter.
Virgil took in the information on the slight piece of paper, he eventually gazed up at Gordon, tears in his eyes.
"I don't believe it, I don't want to..."
"It's true, I got it last night, it's from her mother, she had always been my pen pal, but now she's..." Gordon lowered his head, gazing sadly at the floor, not capable of vocalizing the last word.
Virgil unexpectedly put his arm around Gordon's shoulders and hugged him, Gordon heard Virgil give a low sigh.
"Read it out loud, once more." Virgil told him warmly, Gordon nodded, and drew the letter before his eyes.
"Dear Gordon, I regret most painfully to tell you that Melissa went missing a few days ago, last night the police found her in a forest, murdered," Gordon paused briefly at this word, adding emphasis, before continuing "she had been stabbed several times with a blunt knife, or that was what the police told me, I was incredibly distraught by this news, and thought that I should tell you, as her friend, the funeral is on Sunday, I would be most obliged if you could come, as my husband died a few years back, please, Gordon." Gordon stopped again, this time to rub his eyes.
"I send my love, Gordon, and hope you will join me on Sunday, thank you, Diane Cox." Gordon folded the letter, and slipped it into a the draw beside his bed.
Virgil shook his head slowly, seemingly unbelieving. "Poor Mel." He then looked up and Gordon "Are you going, then?"
Gordon was standing up, hands shoved in pockets, he nodded slowly, reminding Virgil of when they had been kids, with Gordon scuffing his shoes on the edge of the carpet, hands in pockets, just after he'd kicked a football through a neighbours window.
"If dad let's me." Gordon muttered.
Virgil stood up, heading towards the exit, he turned "I'll ask him, Gordo, see you later, I'll make sure Scott doesn't bother you, probably by chaining him to the wall, but there you go." he grinned and went out, closing the door behind him.
Gordon smiled, before sighing and sitting down at his desk, it was pretty disorganized, with papers covering all available space, in fact, you couldn't see the desk at all.
He managed to unearth a piece of paper and an old ballpoint pen.
'Dear Diane,' He wrote 'I will come over for the funeral, accept my deepest sympathies for Mel's death, see you on Sunday, Gordon Tracy."
It looked satisfactory to him, he put it in an envelope, neatly folding the flap in, he detested licking the things, they'd made planes faster than the speed of sound, but no envelopes with no-lick flaps.
Gordon finally dressed, before departing his room and heading for the lounge, this time, when he invaded, nobody actually noticed, Scott had gone off somewhere, much to his relief, and Virgil was nowhere to be seen.
Alan was immersed in a book, and Tin-Tin was attempting to get his attention, but aborting the mission quickly, she acknowledged that Gordon was in the room with a nod.
Gordon shook his head, grinning, he exited the lounge for the mail box, passing the swimming pool, finally reaching his goal.
He slipped his note inside, only to recall that he hadn't put a stamp on.
"Oh, shit." Gordon muttered as he put his arm in order to reach the note, he only succeeded in getting his hand caught.
He groaned, today was getting better and better, he desperately tried to yank his arm out of the incriminating mailbox which had decided to swallow his hand.
"Get off! You bloody, bloody..." Gordon yelled, only to be cut off by Scott, who was stationed behind him.
"Need any help?" Scott asked in a mock good natured voice.
"Well, you don't say." Gordon informed him sarcastically
"Okay, if you don't need any help..." Scot made as if to depart, Gordon grabbed him by his good arm.
"Get my arm out of this thing." He yelled, Scott shrugged.
"You don't need any help."
"I do, okay?"
"Thank you for apologising, goodbye." Scott walked off, Gordon staring after him, unbelieving, his brother had deserted him, here, stranded on the edge of the runway, held captive by a man-eating mailbox.
Gordon laughed later about the situation, but a that moment, he wanted to behead someone.
"I'll kill him for this." He muttered angrily, twisting his hand round, undertaking the task of freeing himself, the mailbox, however, seemed to be somewhat hungry, and held on.
"Let go will you! You man-eating mailbox! I'll...." Gordon suddenly realised that he was having a discussion with a mailbox.
It was an hour before Virgil detected him, and came over.
"Hi Gordo, having problems?"
I hate being in this family, they'd rather state the complete and utter obvious than actually help one of their own. Gordon thought fiercely.
Virgil, however, managed to detach Gordon's arm from the abomination - the mailbox from hell.
"That mailbox ate me! I hate it, it is evil!" Gordon screamed, before legging it off back to the house, Virgil turned back to the mailbox.
"Don't worry, I still like you, mailbox." For some curious reason, Virgil patted the mailbox comfortingly, before realising what he was doing and withdrawing his hand.
"I think the mailbox is possessed, actually." Virgil muttered, before running after Gordon, the mailbox standing there, you wouldn't have thought it, a mailbox, just sitting innocently, you wouldn't imagine that it was actually the possessed mailbox, the abomination, the corrupted mailbox - from hell.
***********************************************************************************
r&r, it's what keeps me writing.
I decided to change it a bit.... but not over the top.
I left the mailbox in, though!
If you've read it before, perhaps you should read it through, to note the changes.
Please r&r!
Phoenix
---x---
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gordon groaned when Scott swung his door open, cringing at the unanticipated light, he'd been awake for the last ten minutes, pondering wether to go back to sleep or to get up.
"You've been asleep for hours!" Scott yelled at him, Gordon flinched, the sound resounded within his head "It's ten o'clock!"
Scott then switched the light on, precipitating further pain, Gordon yanked the covers over his head, detecting footsteps, he sighed, it was the old practice, in a minute.....
Scott tipped the bed up, making Gordon roll out onto the floor, he inescapably climbed wearily to his feet, accepting vanquish, scowling at the grin he was awarded, the grin transformed to a frown in about ten seconds.
"Hey, Gordo, you look like you spent all last night drinking, you've got a hangover."
Discovery of the century. Gordon thought bitterly, he stalked stormily out of the room, pushing past the villainous Scott, who fell back, thoroughly uncaring, Gordon departed for the lounge.
He was resigned to the reality that the lounge would be even brighter than his room, but the conclusion of being able to get a cup of coffee more or less made it worth it.
It was. Incomparably too bright. Gordon stayed at the door, Virgil gave him a glance, head cocked, then shrugged and returned to his own cup.
Giving up with the idea of getting coffee, he turned and plodded, defeated, back to his room, thankfully, Scott had gone.
Gordon closed the door softly then climbed back onto his bed, lifting and unfolding the letter that was beneath his pillow.
He read it, like he had last night, with tears arising to his eyes, still incapable of accepting what had caused him to drink himself almost unconscious the previous night.
He finally folded it again, sighing, he couldn't brood on it, anyway, he had to tell Virgil sooner or later, even though she had been a year younger...
And Gordon had been in the same year.
And now.... he couldn't sustain to think about it.
Oh no, more footsteps, the door opened, again.
This time, he was relieved to see, it was not Scott, but Virgil, the brothers differed, Scott would make you get up, Virgil would just, recommend it, though he was not known for his potential to wake up early himself.
Virgil shut the door.
"Hey, Gordon, are you okay? You seemed a bit, depressed."
I am in a family of masterminds, they can calculate any perplexing or complicated problem so effortlessly. Gordon grinned to himself.
"Ah, you have reached the same astonishing truth as Scott, then, that I'm hung over." He queried, a smile on his face, Virgil looked awkward, and then nodded.
"I guessed so, so, why the sudden hang over?" Virgil inquired, taking up position beside Gordon, who sighed, passing over the letter.
Virgil took in the information on the slight piece of paper, he eventually gazed up at Gordon, tears in his eyes.
"I don't believe it, I don't want to..."
"It's true, I got it last night, it's from her mother, she had always been my pen pal, but now she's..." Gordon lowered his head, gazing sadly at the floor, not capable of vocalizing the last word.
Virgil unexpectedly put his arm around Gordon's shoulders and hugged him, Gordon heard Virgil give a low sigh.
"Read it out loud, once more." Virgil told him warmly, Gordon nodded, and drew the letter before his eyes.
"Dear Gordon, I regret most painfully to tell you that Melissa went missing a few days ago, last night the police found her in a forest, murdered," Gordon paused briefly at this word, adding emphasis, before continuing "she had been stabbed several times with a blunt knife, or that was what the police told me, I was incredibly distraught by this news, and thought that I should tell you, as her friend, the funeral is on Sunday, I would be most obliged if you could come, as my husband died a few years back, please, Gordon." Gordon stopped again, this time to rub his eyes.
"I send my love, Gordon, and hope you will join me on Sunday, thank you, Diane Cox." Gordon folded the letter, and slipped it into a the draw beside his bed.
Virgil shook his head slowly, seemingly unbelieving. "Poor Mel." He then looked up and Gordon "Are you going, then?"
Gordon was standing up, hands shoved in pockets, he nodded slowly, reminding Virgil of when they had been kids, with Gordon scuffing his shoes on the edge of the carpet, hands in pockets, just after he'd kicked a football through a neighbours window.
"If dad let's me." Gordon muttered.
Virgil stood up, heading towards the exit, he turned "I'll ask him, Gordo, see you later, I'll make sure Scott doesn't bother you, probably by chaining him to the wall, but there you go." he grinned and went out, closing the door behind him.
Gordon smiled, before sighing and sitting down at his desk, it was pretty disorganized, with papers covering all available space, in fact, you couldn't see the desk at all.
He managed to unearth a piece of paper and an old ballpoint pen.
'Dear Diane,' He wrote 'I will come over for the funeral, accept my deepest sympathies for Mel's death, see you on Sunday, Gordon Tracy."
It looked satisfactory to him, he put it in an envelope, neatly folding the flap in, he detested licking the things, they'd made planes faster than the speed of sound, but no envelopes with no-lick flaps.
Gordon finally dressed, before departing his room and heading for the lounge, this time, when he invaded, nobody actually noticed, Scott had gone off somewhere, much to his relief, and Virgil was nowhere to be seen.
Alan was immersed in a book, and Tin-Tin was attempting to get his attention, but aborting the mission quickly, she acknowledged that Gordon was in the room with a nod.
Gordon shook his head, grinning, he exited the lounge for the mail box, passing the swimming pool, finally reaching his goal.
He slipped his note inside, only to recall that he hadn't put a stamp on.
"Oh, shit." Gordon muttered as he put his arm in order to reach the note, he only succeeded in getting his hand caught.
He groaned, today was getting better and better, he desperately tried to yank his arm out of the incriminating mailbox which had decided to swallow his hand.
"Get off! You bloody, bloody..." Gordon yelled, only to be cut off by Scott, who was stationed behind him.
"Need any help?" Scott asked in a mock good natured voice.
"Well, you don't say." Gordon informed him sarcastically
"Okay, if you don't need any help..." Scot made as if to depart, Gordon grabbed him by his good arm.
"Get my arm out of this thing." He yelled, Scott shrugged.
"You don't need any help."
"I do, okay?"
"Thank you for apologising, goodbye." Scott walked off, Gordon staring after him, unbelieving, his brother had deserted him, here, stranded on the edge of the runway, held captive by a man-eating mailbox.
Gordon laughed later about the situation, but a that moment, he wanted to behead someone.
"I'll kill him for this." He muttered angrily, twisting his hand round, undertaking the task of freeing himself, the mailbox, however, seemed to be somewhat hungry, and held on.
"Let go will you! You man-eating mailbox! I'll...." Gordon suddenly realised that he was having a discussion with a mailbox.
It was an hour before Virgil detected him, and came over.
"Hi Gordo, having problems?"
I hate being in this family, they'd rather state the complete and utter obvious than actually help one of their own. Gordon thought fiercely.
Virgil, however, managed to detach Gordon's arm from the abomination - the mailbox from hell.
"That mailbox ate me! I hate it, it is evil!" Gordon screamed, before legging it off back to the house, Virgil turned back to the mailbox.
"Don't worry, I still like you, mailbox." For some curious reason, Virgil patted the mailbox comfortingly, before realising what he was doing and withdrawing his hand.
"I think the mailbox is possessed, actually." Virgil muttered, before running after Gordon, the mailbox standing there, you wouldn't have thought it, a mailbox, just sitting innocently, you wouldn't imagine that it was actually the possessed mailbox, the abomination, the corrupted mailbox - from hell.
***********************************************************************************
r&r, it's what keeps me writing.