Mark leaned back in his seat, smooched between him mom and Cindy on the sofa. He couldn't even move his arm enough to reach the large bowl of popcorn on the table. It was one more night of his mom forcing him to watch 'old movies'. Like he really had time for that! He had school work, and friends to worry about, well, not that many friends, but a few, and watching four hours worth of crappy T.V. every other night was really hurting him and what small social life he had! Sometimes he could get out of it by saying he had homework, but lately his mom had been making him do it right after school, just to put him through the torture of 'family night'. It just wasn't fair.
He looked to his mom and sister who were crying at some beautiful thing that he failed to see, since the angles were so poorly shot, and the story line was so incredibly made up and un lifelike.
He stood up, pushing his sister a fair way off the couch as he did. "I need to go to the bathroom."
He didn't wait but ran to his room and locked the door behind him, grabbing the phone and flinging himself onto the bed. He dialed the most familiar number and pushed his short blond hair out of his eyes. "Hi, is Roger there?... Thanks Ms. Davis… Hey Rog…"
"Isn't this supposed to be movie time? The time where if I call, I will not be allowed to hang out with you for nearly a month?" His best friend said this all with a very motherly mocking tone.
"I've escaped for the night. I don't know why she keeps putting me through that! Doesn't she see the torture bad film causes me?" He let out an exaggerated sigh and threw his head back onto his pillow.
"Like you could do any better."
"I could. Just pointing the camera in the right direction I'm sure could do wonders, no matter how weak the plot."
"Why does this bug you so much? It's just a movie."
"Because they butcher human emotions in those films, and all people can see are the pretty front boys staring in them."
"Well, if you really think you can do better, I've got a camera you can have."
Mark sat up in bed, his eyes going wide. "Are you serious?"
"Sure."
"Where did you get a camera?"
"My dad was a photographer for some magazine or TV show. When he started cheating on my mom and left us for some twenty year old twig, mom kicked him out so fast, and I guess he was too ashamed to ask for his things back, so mom boxed the cameras up and put them in the attic. I guess she thought they might be worth something some day."
"Would she actually let you give me one?"
"She already tried to give them to me, but I just wasn't interested. And she likes you most of all my friends, so I'm sure it would be okay."
"Ohh my god! Are you serious?"
"If you ask me that one more time, then no." Mark could hear Roger laughing in the back ground.
"Come over after school tomorrow and bring it with you. Thank you so much Roger! You're the best friend ever!"
"Well, you are pretty lucky to have someone like Roger Davis on your side. How would you ever survive without me?" He heard the phone click and hung up his own phone, jumping off the bed and cheering for the fact that soon, his emotionally stunted family would be watching his movies!
VAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAV
Mark was sitting at the front of the school, waiting for Roger. He was already tapping his toes on the concrete in frustration, and school just got out four minutes ago. He jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He must have jumped a foot. "God Roger, you freak. You don't just sneak up on people! You hum or something."
"Ya, I'll remember to hum next time." Roger rolled his eyes and took his hand off of the huge boxes he was rolling. They were about four large boxes piled onto his skateboard. "This is it. All of his cameras and film. Mom called about it, and turns out that it's not valuable unless you're a collector, so she said to get rid of it all. So here is. I'm not sure the film is still good, but you can check."
I must have been silent for a full ten minutes. "Are you sure about this Roger?"
"I told you, ask again, and no." He turned around and began wheeling the boxes away.
Mark yelled after him. "No, I'm Sorry! I take it back!" He turned around and flashed the infamous smile, and at the moment, Mark could have punched him and hugged him at the same time, having no real preference. "You know, you're just downright cruel sometimes."
He turned around, wheeling the boxes back to me. "I know."
"And you're fine with that?"
"Yes, and I know that one day it will cause me to be a bitter and resentful man, cut off from the world, but for now, I will enjoy using it to my advantage."
"Ya, that's great Roger, Now let's get this stuff to my house." Mark rubbed his hands together, fighting off the chill that still hung in the March air.
VAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVA
Mark and Roger had all the cameras set out on Mark's bed, and he was examining them, while Roger stole some of the film and began draping it over everything in Mark's room. "What a fabulous waste of time! And Money, if that film was still good."
Roger smiled again. "Mark, you have a box of film that just might be fine. You'll manage. And it not, I'll buy you more." He went back to draping the film over the windows and doors.
Mark picked up each camera as it were precious. Out of pure choice, nothing at all effecting him, he decided that the black, 16mm camera would be his favorite.
(Do I really need to go into how this would effect his life?)