Sorry it took a little while. I've been busy. But, if all goes well, I
should have three more days off! Hopefully I don't get sick on my
wonderfully lenghty weekend. Eh. I should be able to update again soon, IF
all goes well.
Mandy of Endsville:: Actually, I don't know where I'm going with this story myself. I'm kinda making it up as I go along. =P Glad I was kinda in- character with Mandy. I still don't like how she turned out. But, eh.
crket2:: That's Miss Nice Person to you! Curse my masculine. . .ness. *cough* But, anyways. I'm happy I helped un. . . confuse you. Curses. I'm incohorent again. This chapter's gonna suck.
Bah. I'm tired.
--~~*~~--
Junior glanced around the nurse's office, the almost blindingly bright light stinging his eyes, which were still quite tender from crying.
Many brightly colored posters adorned the walls, each bearing a clever, motivating little catchphrase meant to inspire all that read it to become more positive and school-spirited. He read these with bitterness in his heart, thinking up a dark, cynical response to each one. It was somewhat amusing to his dry humor, as it seemed nothing could convince him to show pride in this hell called education.
Many off-white curtains hung almost artfully from the ceiling, their flowing fabrics brushing against the ground, meant to provide privacy between the sick patients as they rested on the beds. Junior was perched on the very edge of one of the three beds, which were ironically covered in a sheet of butcher paper. Not a very comforting attribute of the room, especially for a sick child, but it did protect the mattress from germs.
The thermometer felt foreign beneath his olive-colored tongue, and it took all his willpower to keep himself from spitting it out. He had no idea how his current body temperature had any relation to why he was crying, but Nurse Primbroke wouldn't stop nagging until he obeyed. She watched him from a nearby chair, eyes filled with concern.
Awkwardly cradling the rest of the machinery in his lap, Junior waited. He could see the numbers slowly rising on the little box. They steadily climbed into the 90s before the cube let out a long beep, indicating it had reached the proper temperature. The large-breasted woman practically leapt from her chair, all but tackling him to read the little screen.
"Thank God," she sighed in a gush of relief, "Normal."
The son of Nergal eagerly spat the disgustingly cold stick from his mouth He regarded it for a moment before setting it aside, glancing up at the heavily-make upped woman.
"I told you I wasn't sick," he said softly as she plucked up the machine, quickly disposing of the little plastic cover used for sterility. She smiled gently at him as she returned the thermometer to its shelf.
"And believe me, I'm very glad to hear that." A look of concern crossed Nurse Primbroke's face, and she carefully seated herself beside him with a crunch of butcher paper. "But tell me, lil' pumpkin," she began, placing a cautious hand on Junior's shoulder, "Why were you crying?"
He sank slightly beneath her touch, recoiling farther over on the bed, "I was sad," he answered curtly, obviously stalling. She didn't miss a beat.
"And why were you said?"
He stared at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap, pressing wrinkles into his uniform. "Because. . ." he drawled slowly, mind racing for a response, other than the truth. "I. . . I fell down the stairs." Nurse Primbroke blinked, a bit taken back. "It hurt." he added, regarding her out of the corner of his eye.
There was a brief lapse of silence, before the large woman responded, "Is that all?" she asked softly.
"Yes," Junior lied. He fidgeted beneath the weight of her comforting arm. "You're hurting my back."
The hand was quickly removed. "Well, if that's all." the nurse rose to her feet with a grunt, "I suppose you can go back to class. It should be just about break time." She shuffled over to the refrigerator, and for a moment Junior thought she was going to forget he was there and start eating. But she went for the freezer, and pulled out a bag of ice. "Here you go, sweetie," she said with a kind, pink-lipped smile. "This should help reduce any swelling or bruises,"
He accepted the bag, putting on what he hoped was a grateful smile. "Thanks." he said quietly, pressing the bag to the back of his head. He hissed slightly from the sudden change of temperature. He never really liked the cold. It was a weakness most likely developed from being raised in the earth's core.
Dropping lightly from the bed, he slipped out the door. Nurse Primbroke sighed, closing the freezer gently. "I hope he's okay," she said to herself.
--~~*~~--
It seemed from the moment Junior's foot hit the cement outside the office, the bell rang. Its shrill scream tore at his ears, which had become accustomed to the quiet of the nurse's room, and he stumbled slightly. Did they really have to make those cursed bells so loud? It was highly unlikely anyone was going to miss hearing them if they were just a little bit quieter.
He turned the corner sullenly, and came face-to-face with a multitude spilling from the classrooms. He stumbled back, startled by the unreasonable amount of kids rushing to the playground area for recess. They swiftly overtook him, and he was forced towards the playground as if pushed by a tidal wave.
He sighed and trudged miserably with the throngs of children, noting bitterly that each one of them seemed to take extra care to crash into him. He finally pushed through the masses of hungry, inconsiderate bodies, lurching awkwardly into an empty corner alongside the lockers. There he huddled, waiting for a break in the crowd, where it wouldn't be so closed, so noisy.
Junior realized with quiet disappointment that, somewhere in that sea of children, he lost his ice pack. It had helped, if only a little, and he appreciated that. The nurse was a kind woman, and he almost regretted lying to her. She'd probably be the most understanding person he knew. His parents wouldn't care. They'd dismiss his problems as a normal development and tell him they would pass.
'Maybe I should go confess to her,' he thought, seeing the rushing river was beginning to sputter out, 'it's not like I have anything else to do.'
He turned back towards Primbroke's office, and was about to return to it when he noticed someone approaching him out of the corner of his eye. It was a boy, clad in all black (despite the strict uniform rule); sunglasses perched arrogantly on the bridge of his long, thin nose. Junior swallowed hard, and began walking, hoping the guy would think he hadn't noticed him.
'Just what I need. A spooky Gothic who thinks I'm a poseur or something,' he thought bitterly, quickening his pace.
"Wait." It was a soft, abrupt command by a voice that didn't match its bearer. There was a certain tone about the squeaky voice that struck a chord with Junior, and he slowed, despite his overall suspicion of the dark child.
Slow, deliberate steps brought the boy up to the son of Nergal, and he soon discovered he had to decelerate even further so the Goth could keep up.
"I saw you this morning," the boy said carefully, seeming to take a moment of consideration between each word. Junior raised an eyebrow. An odd statement. However, he sensed no cruelty or teasing behind the words. Rather, there was almost a hint of sadness, a mixture of pity and . . . something else.
Silence fell over them, and Junior was unsure whether he was supposed to respond or if the boy was merely going over his next choice of words. Just as he was about to crack beneath the uncomfortable thickness of the silence, the boy began again.
"I saw you this morning with Mandy,"
Another long pause followed. By then, they had slowed to a stop near a drinking fountain, and Junior was tempted to consume the disgusting toilet- flavored water, just to have /something/ to fill the sudden hush with. The boy was staring blankly at him from behind the green tinted glasses, and Junior absently noted his eyes were dark and beady, much like Billy's.
Thin lips pursed, and the boy averted those small eyes, choosing to stare at a suddenly intriguing splotch of something on the wall. "I . . . I don't know why she's mad at you," he started softly, each word seemingly yanked painfully from his being. He paused for a moment longer before he continued, "But you're not alone."
Junior cleared his throat, unsure of what this dark boy was getting at. "She does seem to hate. . . everyone," he said carefully, all-too-aware of how stupid he sounded. A soft sigh escaped the boy's lips.
"You don't know the half of it." He said mournfully, carefully-sculpted eyebrows knitting together with sorrow. He looked back at the son of Nergal, his eyes hidden behind a thick shine on his glasses, but most likely filled with hurt. "Piff." he said suddenly, and Junior noticed he was missing some teeth, small stubs of white growing into their place.
"Huh?"
"Billy calls me Piff,"
"I-I'm Junior."
A porcelain-white hand darted out, taking his own into it.
"We need to talk."
--~~*~~--
Bum bum bum. . .
--~~*~~--
. . . that was long and painful. Curse me. Ah, well. I ask for feedback and advise now. Oh-so-desperately-needed advice.
~Holy fork, their school doesn't have stairs. And it's blue, not brick. *whack whack* What school was I thinking of? Am I a dumbass? (I know the answer to this one. . . )
~Is that the nurse's name? Primbroke? Billy says it too fast, and I kept forgetting it.
~Do you think the uniform rule only applies to the first couple weeks/months of school? or maybe they have a casual Friday sorta deal? because in "Educating Grim", they're wearing the blue and white uniforms, but in, "Crushed" (which was supposed to be aired on V. day) they're wearing their regular clothes. Just wondering. It'd be helpful if you'd give your opinion.
~Piff. I need help with Piff. I kinda felt like he'd be a little more comfortable with Junior, since they're both really quiet, but I still think he talked a bit too much. Curse me and my weak grasp of characters.
I think that's it. I gratefully accept any helpful responses. But, if you want to ignore this, and just flatter me with stuff saying how good this is, or just flat out not review, that's fine too. The story kinda sucks. I need to put aside a specific time to write, and STOP GETTING SO DAMN LAZY! It cuts all my chapters short.
This note is way too long. Going to attempt to sleep now.
Z?
Mandy of Endsville:: Actually, I don't know where I'm going with this story myself. I'm kinda making it up as I go along. =P Glad I was kinda in- character with Mandy. I still don't like how she turned out. But, eh.
crket2:: That's Miss Nice Person to you! Curse my masculine. . .ness. *cough* But, anyways. I'm happy I helped un. . . confuse you. Curses. I'm incohorent again. This chapter's gonna suck.
Bah. I'm tired.
--~~*~~--
Junior glanced around the nurse's office, the almost blindingly bright light stinging his eyes, which were still quite tender from crying.
Many brightly colored posters adorned the walls, each bearing a clever, motivating little catchphrase meant to inspire all that read it to become more positive and school-spirited. He read these with bitterness in his heart, thinking up a dark, cynical response to each one. It was somewhat amusing to his dry humor, as it seemed nothing could convince him to show pride in this hell called education.
Many off-white curtains hung almost artfully from the ceiling, their flowing fabrics brushing against the ground, meant to provide privacy between the sick patients as they rested on the beds. Junior was perched on the very edge of one of the three beds, which were ironically covered in a sheet of butcher paper. Not a very comforting attribute of the room, especially for a sick child, but it did protect the mattress from germs.
The thermometer felt foreign beneath his olive-colored tongue, and it took all his willpower to keep himself from spitting it out. He had no idea how his current body temperature had any relation to why he was crying, but Nurse Primbroke wouldn't stop nagging until he obeyed. She watched him from a nearby chair, eyes filled with concern.
Awkwardly cradling the rest of the machinery in his lap, Junior waited. He could see the numbers slowly rising on the little box. They steadily climbed into the 90s before the cube let out a long beep, indicating it had reached the proper temperature. The large-breasted woman practically leapt from her chair, all but tackling him to read the little screen.
"Thank God," she sighed in a gush of relief, "Normal."
The son of Nergal eagerly spat the disgustingly cold stick from his mouth He regarded it for a moment before setting it aside, glancing up at the heavily-make upped woman.
"I told you I wasn't sick," he said softly as she plucked up the machine, quickly disposing of the little plastic cover used for sterility. She smiled gently at him as she returned the thermometer to its shelf.
"And believe me, I'm very glad to hear that." A look of concern crossed Nurse Primbroke's face, and she carefully seated herself beside him with a crunch of butcher paper. "But tell me, lil' pumpkin," she began, placing a cautious hand on Junior's shoulder, "Why were you crying?"
He sank slightly beneath her touch, recoiling farther over on the bed, "I was sad," he answered curtly, obviously stalling. She didn't miss a beat.
"And why were you said?"
He stared at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap, pressing wrinkles into his uniform. "Because. . ." he drawled slowly, mind racing for a response, other than the truth. "I. . . I fell down the stairs." Nurse Primbroke blinked, a bit taken back. "It hurt." he added, regarding her out of the corner of his eye.
There was a brief lapse of silence, before the large woman responded, "Is that all?" she asked softly.
"Yes," Junior lied. He fidgeted beneath the weight of her comforting arm. "You're hurting my back."
The hand was quickly removed. "Well, if that's all." the nurse rose to her feet with a grunt, "I suppose you can go back to class. It should be just about break time." She shuffled over to the refrigerator, and for a moment Junior thought she was going to forget he was there and start eating. But she went for the freezer, and pulled out a bag of ice. "Here you go, sweetie," she said with a kind, pink-lipped smile. "This should help reduce any swelling or bruises,"
He accepted the bag, putting on what he hoped was a grateful smile. "Thanks." he said quietly, pressing the bag to the back of his head. He hissed slightly from the sudden change of temperature. He never really liked the cold. It was a weakness most likely developed from being raised in the earth's core.
Dropping lightly from the bed, he slipped out the door. Nurse Primbroke sighed, closing the freezer gently. "I hope he's okay," she said to herself.
--~~*~~--
It seemed from the moment Junior's foot hit the cement outside the office, the bell rang. Its shrill scream tore at his ears, which had become accustomed to the quiet of the nurse's room, and he stumbled slightly. Did they really have to make those cursed bells so loud? It was highly unlikely anyone was going to miss hearing them if they were just a little bit quieter.
He turned the corner sullenly, and came face-to-face with a multitude spilling from the classrooms. He stumbled back, startled by the unreasonable amount of kids rushing to the playground area for recess. They swiftly overtook him, and he was forced towards the playground as if pushed by a tidal wave.
He sighed and trudged miserably with the throngs of children, noting bitterly that each one of them seemed to take extra care to crash into him. He finally pushed through the masses of hungry, inconsiderate bodies, lurching awkwardly into an empty corner alongside the lockers. There he huddled, waiting for a break in the crowd, where it wouldn't be so closed, so noisy.
Junior realized with quiet disappointment that, somewhere in that sea of children, he lost his ice pack. It had helped, if only a little, and he appreciated that. The nurse was a kind woman, and he almost regretted lying to her. She'd probably be the most understanding person he knew. His parents wouldn't care. They'd dismiss his problems as a normal development and tell him they would pass.
'Maybe I should go confess to her,' he thought, seeing the rushing river was beginning to sputter out, 'it's not like I have anything else to do.'
He turned back towards Primbroke's office, and was about to return to it when he noticed someone approaching him out of the corner of his eye. It was a boy, clad in all black (despite the strict uniform rule); sunglasses perched arrogantly on the bridge of his long, thin nose. Junior swallowed hard, and began walking, hoping the guy would think he hadn't noticed him.
'Just what I need. A spooky Gothic who thinks I'm a poseur or something,' he thought bitterly, quickening his pace.
"Wait." It was a soft, abrupt command by a voice that didn't match its bearer. There was a certain tone about the squeaky voice that struck a chord with Junior, and he slowed, despite his overall suspicion of the dark child.
Slow, deliberate steps brought the boy up to the son of Nergal, and he soon discovered he had to decelerate even further so the Goth could keep up.
"I saw you this morning," the boy said carefully, seeming to take a moment of consideration between each word. Junior raised an eyebrow. An odd statement. However, he sensed no cruelty or teasing behind the words. Rather, there was almost a hint of sadness, a mixture of pity and . . . something else.
Silence fell over them, and Junior was unsure whether he was supposed to respond or if the boy was merely going over his next choice of words. Just as he was about to crack beneath the uncomfortable thickness of the silence, the boy began again.
"I saw you this morning with Mandy,"
Another long pause followed. By then, they had slowed to a stop near a drinking fountain, and Junior was tempted to consume the disgusting toilet- flavored water, just to have /something/ to fill the sudden hush with. The boy was staring blankly at him from behind the green tinted glasses, and Junior absently noted his eyes were dark and beady, much like Billy's.
Thin lips pursed, and the boy averted those small eyes, choosing to stare at a suddenly intriguing splotch of something on the wall. "I . . . I don't know why she's mad at you," he started softly, each word seemingly yanked painfully from his being. He paused for a moment longer before he continued, "But you're not alone."
Junior cleared his throat, unsure of what this dark boy was getting at. "She does seem to hate. . . everyone," he said carefully, all-too-aware of how stupid he sounded. A soft sigh escaped the boy's lips.
"You don't know the half of it." He said mournfully, carefully-sculpted eyebrows knitting together with sorrow. He looked back at the son of Nergal, his eyes hidden behind a thick shine on his glasses, but most likely filled with hurt. "Piff." he said suddenly, and Junior noticed he was missing some teeth, small stubs of white growing into their place.
"Huh?"
"Billy calls me Piff,"
"I-I'm Junior."
A porcelain-white hand darted out, taking his own into it.
"We need to talk."
--~~*~~--
Bum bum bum. . .
--~~*~~--
. . . that was long and painful. Curse me. Ah, well. I ask for feedback and advise now. Oh-so-desperately-needed advice.
~Holy fork, their school doesn't have stairs. And it's blue, not brick. *whack whack* What school was I thinking of? Am I a dumbass? (I know the answer to this one. . . )
~Is that the nurse's name? Primbroke? Billy says it too fast, and I kept forgetting it.
~Do you think the uniform rule only applies to the first couple weeks/months of school? or maybe they have a casual Friday sorta deal? because in "Educating Grim", they're wearing the blue and white uniforms, but in, "Crushed" (which was supposed to be aired on V. day) they're wearing their regular clothes. Just wondering. It'd be helpful if you'd give your opinion.
~Piff. I need help with Piff. I kinda felt like he'd be a little more comfortable with Junior, since they're both really quiet, but I still think he talked a bit too much. Curse me and my weak grasp of characters.
I think that's it. I gratefully accept any helpful responses. But, if you want to ignore this, and just flatter me with stuff saying how good this is, or just flat out not review, that's fine too. The story kinda sucks. I need to put aside a specific time to write, and STOP GETTING SO DAMN LAZY! It cuts all my chapters short.
This note is way too long. Going to attempt to sleep now.
Z?