Cold, cold and damn cold, this town is just the best. And what is with the name? Berk. Berk. BUUURRRKKK. I'm going to enjoy living here, Hiccup thought to himself as he sat in the living room of his new house, with all the lights switched on. It was nearing the start of the new school semester in January and Hiccup had everything ready, that didn't mean was excited for his first day at school though. He still didn't see the logic in this move. His father and himself had lived a comfortable life in his old town. He had friends and contacts and relatives. Here, in 'BURK', he had no one, no one except his father.
His fingers twitched and flexed involuntarily as he sat on the couch, being as they were, so used to dancing across piano keys. He was in nothing but his boxers and a grubby old t-shirt. He flicked through the channels, finding nothing interesting. As usual, there was nothing to watch except for crappy romantic comedy movies, reality TV shows about models and their melodrama, cartoons that were 10 years too childish for him, more reality TV shows about something or other that absolutely no one cared about. He kept clicking and clicking and clicking, finding nothing he liked until he finally shut off the TV. He rubbed his sore eyes and sat still for a minute. He closed his eyes and tried something his father had recommended to him to help ease his nerves, some meditation. He relaxed and cleared his mind, easing back into the couch. He took deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Then, he felt actually at ease. He felt calm and without worry. He let a small smile appear on his face. For the first minute, Hiccup was at peace, the outside world no longer existing.
In the second minute, he became aware of a certain humming. A quiet, dull hum that barely reached his mind. He paid it no mind. It could just be the refrigerator and it's loud, ever-constant drone. It could be the next-door neighbor cutting his grass with his unreliable, relic of a lawnmower, though why he would cut his grass at this hour was a mystery. It could be his other next-door neighbor's dog having sex with the other dog Hiccup's next-door neighbor had. Like I had said, he paid no mind.
But, after another minute, the small hum had grown louder. It filled his ears with an uncomfortable ringing. He tried to ignore it as a break in focus would result in a break from his new found peace.
In the fourth minute, the hum that had grown was now thunderous and resounding! It drilled its way into Hiccup's mind, destroying his peace and causing him to open his eyes and curse. He screamed in frustration, clenching his fists and slamming his head onto the couch. Then he noticed the thunderous, deafening, ear-splitting noise was gone. It had left him. At once, he knew what that noise was. Well, for god's sake, you must be saying, what was it? Who was the culprit? Who disturbed Hiccup? Hiccup's father has a saying, for when Hiccup would finally stop playing the piano. He would say to Hiccup, "Hiccup, the second you stop playing that piano, silence turns into unbearable noise." Have you guessed who did it? Well, my dear reader, should you lack the mental capabilities of figuring out the major clue that I have left most generously for you, I will help ease your mind. Silence is noise. Noise is silence. Poetry my dear reader, poetry in short glory.
Hiccup ran his fingers through his hair. He then looked at the old grandfather clock his father had managed to buy at a flea market. 5 o'clock. Oh, he still had some time. He looked at his fingers and found them tapping against the arm of the couch. He quickly stopped himself. He heard him stomach rumble and discovered that he hadn't eaten for 8 hours. Perhaps that's why he felt so miserable. He stood up and walked into the kitchen.
The kitchen was a small rectangular room that connected directly into the dining room. The wall that separated the kitchen and dining room had a small wide window frame with a wooden counter. The kitchen also had a window that stretched across the entire wall. That window currently had curtains drawn across it. Hiccup trudged into the dark kitchen, gently scratching his arse. Ahem, sorry, reader, perhaps I should leave details like that out next time. So, returning to the story, Hiccup trudged into the dark kitchen, not gently scratching his arse. Instead he… Was picking his nose. He wiped his finger on his shirt and opened the fridge, the cold blue light smashing into his eyes. He groaned and squinted, partially shielding his eyes with his hand. His eyes finally adjusted to the light.
He parsed the contents of the fridge that he had painstakingly organized by alphabetical order in one of his bouts of sheer boredom. He found a Pepsi can and some leftover pasta. He pulled them out of the fridge and set them onto the rustic granite countertops. He put the pasta into the microwave and started to heat them up. As he waited for the pasta to heat up, he noticed his father had left a steak knife on the counter top. His eyes instantly snapped onto the metal blade. He suddenly felt his fingers twitching and tapping. He took a step forward and gripped the handle of the knife, lifting it off of the counter. He ran his tongue over his teeth, a habit that had an intense hatred of death. A dangerous thought crossed his mind, for the 20th time that year. He sneered and roughly pulled open a drawer, almost throwing the knife into the drawer. He slammed the drawer back. Then the beep of the microwave filled the kitchen. He took the pasta out of the microwave and gently setting it on the counter, not wanting to make a sound. He pulled open a different drawer and pulled out a fork. He picked up the plate of pasta and walked over to the window. He started to eat, chewing slowly. His father's cooking had improved dramatically over the past few years. After 3 bites, he buried the fork in the pasta. He set the plate down for a second to open the curtains. The curtains gently drew open and darkness greeted him. The glow of streetlamps managed to touch Hiccup's eyes through the window. The stars filled the sky and the moon hung low. 5 o'clock. AM. Not PM. He picked up the plate of pasta and continued eating, staring out into the sky. He would need to get into bed soon, just to trick his dad into thinking he had slept. Hiccup opened the Pepsi can and drank heavily from it; enjoy the sweet taste as it ran over his tongue. Oh, that's good.
Author's note: I really got a good response on that first chapter and I'll be continuing this story. Also, if anyone's wondering, Airship is still alive. I never give something up, I just put it down for a minute. Anyways, enjoy!
