me when my phone didn't charge all night and is at 2% and everybody only has an apple charger that doesn't work with androids teehee

so yeah I'm speedrunning.

Ok anyways no reviews this time, which might have something to do with the website glitching out and not sending an email to the followers! so fun!

this chapter is kind of silly because I actually didn't know what to write wjsbjsbs sorry if it's kind of weird

song is cradles by sub urban! love this one sm even if it is edgy, fits william pretty well lol

anyways enjoy

Chapter 94

Breathe Faster To Waste Oxygen

Mail, mail, mail, mail, mail, mail, mail!

William had been repeating that beloved word so many times in his head that it hardly sounded like a real word anymore. God. Where is that bloody secretary?!

The end of the year had the whole class buzzing with anticipation, so it wasn't like anyone in the class had their minds on mail over ice pops and seventh grade and sleeping past noon. Not that William was excited for next year. The girl two desks over to him, Alyssa, who's father worked on the school board, had leaked the classes for seventh grade. And William had been stuck with the three most annoying people in his class - Darcy, Mia, and Daniel, who now, for some reason, insisted they called him Andy.

Woo-freaking-hoo.

Finally, the secretary burst through the door in a flurry of apologies, passing the sack to Mr Something-Or-Other. Ms Simmons had left early spring on maternity leave, the baby - who was a girl, much to the squealing girls in his class's delight - was due around the cusp of October. Since then, they'd had a slew of substitutes, none who'd stuck around for very long.

His leg bounced eagerly in his seat as Mr Long-Nose-Hair passed the envelopes out to the class, and finally, finally, the letter was placed in William's itching fingertips. He tore it open, drinking in the precious words like an alcoholic. Apparently Henry was going to be moving to the middle school next year and was excited to finally be in a class with his sister.

Well, at least someone was excited. William wanted to be in seventh grade about as much as he wanted his tonsils removed with garden shears.

Which is what he started his letter with, filling in the rest of the space with mundane family business- Alicia's new boyfriend (ugly), Vincent's sudden obsession with Garfield comics (creepy), his father's promotion at the logging company (plentiful). The class wasn't paying the assignment much attention, instead chatting about TV shows and friendship bracelets and who would go on the most exotic vacation that summer (spoiler alert: definitely Darcy, who was being shipped off to New Zealand where her family lived).

William had almost finished when the lunch bell rang, sending a stampede of kids outside in a flurry of papers. He tucked the paper into his bag, careful not to crease, grabbed his orange and headed into the brisk air outside, ready to play a fun game he called Sit Alone In The Corner And Do Nothing.

Digging his thumb into the middle of the orange and carefully unpeeling it, William watched the circle of the most…sociable kids in his grade swap lunches and stories. It wasn't like he particularly liked anyone there, or if he cared about popularity, but he sort of wanted to sit there. He didn't have many friends (more by choice than anything else) and considering how fun it was to have Henry as a friend, maybe it would be fun to have other friends, too.

"Hey," he began after he'd walked across the courtyard to the group. Mia glared at him, but Darcy gave him a little wave. "Can I sit here?"

"Of course!" Darcy chirped, ignoring the elbow from her friend. "We're all swapping lunches right now. Do you want some of my corn pudding?" She stuck out a spoon with a scoop of pale yellow mush on it.

"Er, no thanks. It looks…tasty, though."

"My mum made it. Do you want some of our barbecue pork instead?"

"Uh, sure." He peeled it gingerly off the chopstick it was speared on and chewed it slowly. "Wow, oh my God, that's really good." Sweet and chewy with a hint of smokiness, absolutely delicious.

Her russet cheeks flushed. "Thanks."

"Hey, Will! I'll give you half a biscuit for two orange slices! I need fibre for my muscles." James, who William was pretty sure played nineteen different sports, offered, splitting an oatmeal raisin biscuit in half and holding it out to him. William forked over two slices and took a tentative nibble of the biscuit. Crumbly, just how he liked it. He wasn't really allowed sweets on account of the sugar making him hyper.

"So anyways, did you guys see Molly's skirt?" Mia asked, wanting to move on from the topic of William. The topic moved on from skirts to softball to cereal box prizes, and eventually they were called back into class.

It was nice, he supposed, to have friends. It just wasn't totally how he pictured it.

Dear Henry,

I had an orange today. I know how much you loooove those. Ha-ha-ha.

School's practically over, we only have two days left in class. The way James has been acting though, you'd think school had up and died or something.

Anyways, the girls in my class were going feral when they found out we got to come up with the name for the baby. I suggested the name Composter, but I don't think Ms Simmons liked that. So then Mia said the name Nevaeh, which is heaven spelt backwards, and Ms Simmons liked it so much that she picked it right away without letting me suggest anything else. Like Meat Grinder.

Then I went home and there was another arrival as I was eating my peanut butter toast, but my mom hurried it out of the room the second it came in, which means it was either a little kid or something really gory. Found out from listening to my parents through the vents that it was a four-year-old who drowned in the bathtub. My siblings and I aren't allowed to help with the ceremony at all, not even decorating. Which is so stupid, how is collecting flowers supposed to be traumatic?

Also, I heard from Alyssa and Molly that Darcy might ask me out. Should I say yes? I don't think I have a crush on her, there's no fireworks or angels or whatever the hell is supposed to happen to me. But some of her friends are cool, and I guess it wouldn't be too hard to pretend I like her. Plus, her mum makes the best pulled pork I've ever tasted in my life. So maybe it wouldn't be all bad.

Also, I don't want to sound obsessive, but I was wondering if you wanted to keep mailing each other over the summer? I've attached my postal code if you'd like. Sorry if that makes me sound like a freak.

-William

Dear William, you silly, silly freak,

Of course I want to talk to you over the summer. I really don't have many people to talk to, you know. Just my family and sometimes Clara, but I'm not sure she particularly likes me. We're also staying in boring Hurricane, but we've got a road trip to Shadow Beach in August that I'm looking forward to!

Um, also, I think my parents have joined a cult? There's a lot of them in Utah actually, these twins in my class are in one where you fast every Monday and can only drink goat's blood and water. My parents' is nicer, though. You don't eat anything containing the flesh of an animal, you wear lots of flowy clothes, you eat violet syrup (better than maple!), and you aren't allowed TV. Luckily, Jen and I don't have to follow that last rule cause it has different rules for kids. Also, we have to meet with the other members on the full moon and bring dried flowers to burn in the woods. Are you in a cult?

As for Darcy, my dad gave me a talk about girls a few days ago. He says that if you don't like a girl, you shouldn't play with their feelings because then you'll both be hurt. My dad's had two wives, so I think you should take his advice. And pulled pork sounds so good. Too bad I'm in a cult.

Also, oranges are disgusting. I don't care if you think that's weird. You have illogical food tastes too. I'm currently eating a pineapple right now, want some?

From Henry:)

(P.S here's my postal code! give me a test write when you can)

Dear Henry,

No.

-William

Dear Tree-Hater,

William, I can't believe you just wasted all that money and paper on that. Do you hate pineapple that much?

Well, our cult had its first and last meeting last night. We met in the middle of the woods and EVERYONE argued over the rules. Our town has a lot of religious people, especially Catholics, who found out where we were and got angry at us, and then two-thirds of the cult left after this random guy offered them a hundred bucks to leave.

So then it was just us, this old couple, and the leader who today got arrested for manslaughter (she ran over her ex-husband with her car and claimed it was an accident. Very persuasive. Probably how she got so many people for the cult). And by then it was midnight and the amount of money the guy was offering had gone up to three hundred, so my parents just took the money and we left the cult. So I'd like that pulled pork recipe now, please.

From a Tree-Lover l:(

Dear Henry,

Trees suck. And you suck. Want to know what doesn't suck? B-B-Q pork, baby!

So, Darcy had an end-of-year barbecue and invited practically the whole grade, and when your only options for the day are going fishing with your racist, sexist grandfather and listening to his racist, sexist preaching and hanging out with a bunch of kids in the a pool and eating delicious food, I think I'd go with the latter.

Alicia drove me there, which was possibly the most terrifying experience I've ever had, and I live in a morgue. She seemed to have an agenda to hit every single manhole and speed bump and pinecone in her way.

When I finally got there, Darcy opened the door, swarmed me and dragged me outside to the pool, where everyone was playing that water volleyball game. It smelled like chlorine and smoke and sunscreen in that backyard, which was a surprisingly pleasant smell considering the components. And I know the whole England stereotype about it being dark and rainy and gloomy all the time, but today it was seriously scorching, like thirty-two degrees (which would sound cold to you Farenheit oddballs). Unfortunately, I wasn't wearing a bathing suit, so I sat by the side and put my feet in the unnaturally turquoise water.

It was nice until Alyssa, Molly, and Mia all decided to have a handstand contest right beside me, and Mia 'accidentally' did a massive belly flop and drenched me head to toe. I was wearing my nice black polo and rolled-up khakis, and the twelve layers of sunscreen my mum made me wear went everywhere.

I was fantasizing about what her neck would look like without a big yammering head on top of it when Darcy's dad called us for hot dogs. He kind of scares me a little. He's two metres and ten centimetres tall with an angry face and arms thicker than my waist, covered in tattoos. The tattoos are kind of cool, though. I'd get one if I could find someone who'd do it on a twelve-year-old.

The hot dogs were sort of burnt, but I think they taste better that way. Andy had brought this huge thing of hot sauce, but guarded it like a mother bear to her cubs. I took it anyway by throwing his cap in the pool and pouring the sauce on my hot dog while he wasn't looking. The spice definitely added to it.

So then I figured that if my outfit was already wrecked, that I could just swim. So I went in, and the guys followed me, and then we started playing Truth or Dare. It was fine at first. James dared me to climb up the stack of chairs and jump into the pool off the roof, which I did and only bruised a third of my left leg. But then Darcy asked me who my crush was, and I was full of palatable hot dog and I was comfortable in the warm water and Darcy looked pretty in her sapphire ruffle bikini, so I just said I liked her. It wasn't worth the drama, I thought.

Well, I thought wrong. Because her Hestaphus-built dad overheard me and I literally thought steam was going to come out of his ears. He roared a bunch of words I'm not supposed to say and then chased me out of the pool with a pair of tongs while all the other kids screamed and made a fuss. I wasn't really scared, just amused. Like, imagine this gigantic Minotaur of a man chasing this skinny pale kid with a pair of barbecue tongs. Funny stuff.

So I ended up walking home. No big deal, right? Except it's an eight-kilometre walk uphill cliffside in the scorching sun in clothes that are starting to turn itchy with chemical cleaner. I was contemplating throwing myself off the rather scenic cliff when some old guy in a shiny red truck slowed down next to me and offered me a ride. He stank of beer and sweat, and when he leered his disgusting leer I could see his missing front teeth, but I figured it couldn't get much worse than what had already happened, so I just got in and gave him an address.

We made small talk, and when I say we I mean him and when I say small talk I mean that I think he was trying to kidnap and sell me, but then I put on my innocent little-kid face and talked about how my army-vet Daddy was just getting back from a hunting lesson with my five big brothers and how Mummy had a collection of human skulls (I mean, that one isn't totally a lie if you squint) and how I knew twelve different ways to kill grown men with my bare hands and sometimes a strip of dental floss and that seemed to shut him up quick. Creepy bloody freak. Kind of wanted to test out one of those twelve ways, but I don't totally know how to dispose of the body and my DNA is all over the place. Still, I made sure to scrape off some paint on the side of his pretty truck and let the air out of one of his tires. I'm sure he'll have a big tantrum about it when he gets home.

Also, I know what you're thinking, and no, I said my name was Bradley and I didn't give him my real address. He dropped me off at my grandfather's house, so maybe they can bond over making children miserable.

When I got home, my mum screamed at me for thirty minutes straight when I told her what I'd done. I got really mad at her, after all I hardly did anything. And that guy deserved to have his tires and paint wrecked, come on. He was a child predator, for God's sake!

So I went up to her room, took all of the newspaper articles she cut out of obituaries she thought were creative (it's goddamn freaky is what it is) and I set them on fire in the drained bathtub. I was having a great time, actually. The flames warmed me up and dried my clothes, and I ate a bottle of toothpaste. It was like my own private camp, you know? And then, of course, my female dog of a sister had to come in and start whining about all the smoke to my mum, and then my mum starts whining about how the bathtub is ruined, and it'll be oh so very expensive, blah blah blah. I just faked up some tears by staring hard into a bright light and cried about how she never pays any attention to me and I basically acted like a spoiled brat.

Whatever, at least I'm not in trouble. Though I heard her talking to my dad about how she thinks I'm L-O-O-N-Y. Maybe next time I write to you, I'll be in the psych ward. That'd be kind of funny, right?

There you go. I have a girlfriend now, who's dad hates my guts. How's your day been?

-William

Dear William,

Should've listened to my dad's advice.

From Henry

(P.S Here's a drawing I made so that this paper doesn't go to waste!)

Scrawled on the bottom was a cartoony redraw of their school pictures side-by-side, that William cut out from the letter and carefully tacked to his bulletin board.

A/N

Currently speedrunning this chapter, because I need to get at least three more out this month. L-O-L.

Question/Challenge: what's something you hope will happen one day? I hope I become a successful author sjdbsjsn

Have an amazing day/night1!1!1!

~ghosty