Wednesday, 7 November 2012

Fictional Story with true undertone

One day there was a boy. He could not sit still for the life of him. When he did sit still when forced to do so in school or in church, his bum got really really sore! All he could ever think about was playing outside. Everyday he would come home from school and throw his clothes on the floor, put on some old shit and go play outside. If you looked for him you could probably find him in the trees or in the bush. When he got a bicycle he took it to the next level and disappeared for hours on end exploring what was left of the wild suburbian landscape where he was trapped, feeling free for just that time. Until the sun would set and he would be forced to return home for supper greeted with a “WHERE WERE YOU!? I’VE BEEN WORRYING MY GUTS OUT! DON’T EVER DISSAPPEAR LIKE THAT!”  OK mumsy, yor don’t skel so! Just to do the very same thing the next day until they finally gave up. Most times he would be joined by his trusty sidekick brother who instigated random acts of vandalism and danger, an element that was mostly enjoyable. These would include riding their bikes down treacherous obstacles or subway crossings or setting an innocent neighbours uncut dried out grass on fire. All the while unbeknown to them, instinctively developing  keen skill and agility that saw them walk away from accidents that left friends with broken teeth and stitches. The suburb was their oyster and for the longest few years they were unstoppable except for the punctures and rain that would keep them indoors. Growing up was a bitch and puberty was a bigger bitch. The opposite sex that was never a concern to the two was the only thing that now occupied their hormone infested thoughts. The pseudo reality of the world dawned and priorities were forcefully shifted. Their misadventures were turned into afternoons of detentions to coerce their conformity. Girls made them stupid and forget what was important. All they could think about were tits and ass. School sucked. The boy soon rediscovered an outlet for his restlessness in sporting activities that expended his frustration for a short while. Sitting still was still a problem. Athletics, tennis, cricket and finally soccer introduced to him by a neighbourhood friend, the suckiness of life for a horny pubescent was a distant thought that fell to the ground along with the sweat of weekly practices along with team mates who’s lives were just as, sometimes  more, troubled than his own.

To be continued…

By S.W.