"Be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."

-William Shakespeare

Thursday, March 11, 2010

kill joy [excerpt:]

excerpt from my book... [:

The Wrong Side of Johnny

We walked down the weakened sidewalk not seeming to go in a pacific direction. The wind blew quietly, softly.
I and Johnny talked, and we talked about everything. But I couldn’t understand it; I couldn’t understand how easy it was to be myself around him. I’m not myself around my closest and dearest friends. He didn’t- he never judged; he laughed, I laughed, and we went on.
And I’m the one who always laughed at the stupid teenage girls in movies who feel head over heels in love with ‘The Bad Boy” and made fun of Kylie for crying. But he’s really not as bad as he thinks he is; he has to big of a sweet side to be.
“I like Camaros, personally,” I continued as we strolled down the street. “I had a Camaro.” “No,” I said in envy. “Yep, first generation, I didn’t drive, I didn’t ride in that car; I flew in that car. I loved that car.” “I can imagine. Have you seen a 2009 Camaro? I think you would like it,” I said nodding, subconsciously imagining me and him flying down a desolate rode in a blue Camaro into the never ending sunset. “I like what ever you like,” he reassured.
The glint of his golden eyes in the mid-day sun made me get lost in the sheer beauty of them. They reminded me of a Werther’s caramel candy on a cold day. I stared into them unwillingly, but yearningly into the infinite warmth of his golden eyes.
As I stared into Johnny’s eyes I unknowingly began to walk right into the middle of the street as a cab hurriedly drove down the street. But Johnny caught my hand before I could kill myself in a sweet daydream. “So I have to hold your hand like you’re an old lady now,” he said smiling before I could give that idiot cab driver a piece of my mind. I just nodded as his warm hands held mine. What am I doing? Holding Johnny’s hand? I don’t like him! I can’t like him! I don’t, I’m sure!
But the warm feeling that was spreading to every corner of my once barren heart didn’t stop.
But what knocked me out of my swirling crush was the scared cautiousness of when people are approaching near me on the street. I heard even, heavy footsteps behind me. And like I always do when someone’s behind I put my head down and kept walking. They gradually started to walk faster. They whispered, they laughed. The more they laughed the more I thought they were following and talking about us.
Johnny looked behind his broad shoulder and his body grew tense and rigid. His jaw was clenching hard as he began to walk faster, pulling me with him. “Hey Street Rat,” one of the boys yelled out to us. The boys behind us gradually grew closer and closer to us. I slowly turned to look behind me and surprisingly found well dressed, mostly red haired/freckled faced boys, mean faced boys walking faster and faster to us.
“Who are they Johnny,” I asked anxious. He said nothing as he clenched and unclenched his jaw, pulling me faster. “Johnny!” “Some of The Saints come to hassle and start trouble. Keep walking and don’t look back,” Johnny said with his hard eyes staring at a pizzeria now in sight. I didn’t like the look that came over him. The joy and bliss that once filled his bright eyes were replaced with hard, resentful, bitter gloominess.
I felt one of them come right up behind me as I and Johnny was practically running. “Hey sweetheart,” he disgustingly whispered in my ear. I clutched at Johnny’s arm, as he squeezed my hand. “What are you doin’ with this good- for- nuttin’ mutt, huh,” he asked arrogantly. “Hey Dolly,” he probed, with continuous laughter in the background. The pizzeria was so close, but just not closes enough. “Hey Dolly, I’m talkin to yah,” he said catching me at the hip and pulling me outta Johnny’s arms. His rough freckled hands held me to him. He was preppy and well-dressed boy with fiery red hair pointing in every which way. I watched as his green eyes trailed up and down my body with a crude grin across his face. “Johnny,” I shrieked panicking.
And with fury boiling and smoldering in his eyes he ripped me away from him, pulled a black pocket knife from his back pocket, wrenched him up by collar, slammed him up against the brick wall putting the blade against his throat. Bold veins popped out of his hands and forearms as he steadily held the blade against his throat as the others unsuccessfully tried to pull Johnny off of him.
“Touch her again,” Johnny said in a shaky voice. “And you’ll sure as hell know what being dead feels like,” he said cold and emotionlessly. “You hear me,” Johnny said slamming him against the wall. But the boy just looked at him smirking malevolently. “You hear me,” he yelled again maliciously. The three other boys pulled and pulled at Johnny but his boulder of a body wouldn’t budge.
I stood a few feet away paralyzed in fear; but I wasn’t sure if it was because the menacing boys or the pure rage coming from Johnny.
“I’ll do more than touch her,” he said balefully. Johnny’s eyes went wide as he began to shack with anger, but before he could slam him against the brick wall again the other guys pulled him off and slammed him down on the concrete sidewalk and began to viciously stomp on him. I anxiously pushed through them to get to Johnny’s side. I angrily punched one orange haired boy in a blue and green letterman’s sweater. He stared at me maliciously but before he could take one step toward me Johnny staggered to his feet and pulled me behind him.
Johnny spit out blood and wiped his bleeding lip. He took a deep breath and said, “You know the rules,” he said bitterly. “No fighting before a rumble.” A tall, and skinny [but built] blond haired boy with ice cold, hard blue eyes stepped to Johnny. He purposely stood inches from his face. Johnny stood still rigid as he clenched his jaw furiously and the skin around his knuckles pulled back in a tight fist; making his knuckles pale white. “See you in a couple days maggot,” he said snobbishly, looking me up and down a bit too curiously and turning to leave. “And you’ll never come back after that,” Johnny said acerbically. “You sure about that,” he said smirking menacingly. “Yes.” “We’ll see,” he mumbled. And they all followed him like they were baby ducks down the sidewalk laughing churlishly.
Soon as they turned the corner Johnny collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. “Johnny,” I said immediately going to his side. “I’m alright, I just got the snot beat out of me that's all,” he said slowly rising to his feet. “Well that’s what you get, putting yourself in danger like that. I would beat you up, but they beat you up more than I ever could,” I said putting his arm around my shoulder and the other hand on his waist. “Which way’s home,” I asked, he pointed to the right and we started our hobble back home.

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