Chapter 2. Bashing Ears.

I awoke the next morning on the couch in my room. It was incredibly sad how I was so tired I couldn’t even reach my bed, or maybe it was the fact that pictures were spread all over it. I had no idea what to do with these memories, many things rushed through my head to solve this dilemma. You know how in movies when people die, how friends burn or bury all memories? Those were the only thing I could think of, but I just couldn’t do that. Why would someone get ride of memories? Memories are one of the best things in the world. When theirs not one bit of happiness in your life, you can always think back to stuff that made you laugh when you didn’t even want to smile. I would never, ever, ever throw away them. Pictures are what keep me going in life. Just getting that perfect sunset going down in the late but early part of a day, was one of the best things in life. I love watching sunsets; it just reminds me that no matter what happens. Life goes on.

My phone rang, it was buried under shovel full’s and shovels full’s of clothes and homework assignments that never got turned in, just left to go over its own thoughts. I pushed stuff away, looking through the couch and finally success. “I was just piling some Z‘s, what do you want?” I spoke into the receiver tiredly. “Well razz my berries, that’s the first time in a week ain’t it?…You’re doing okay kiddo?” I heard Sam asked with sincerity. For a kid just a bit older, he sure treated me like a kid. I sighed, “Yes Sam, I’m fine”. There was a long pause, “You really miss them don’t you…?” his voice cracked a bit; he really had no idea how much. “Yeah, don’t you?” Another long pause, “A whole lot”. I’ve never seen or hear him have any sad emotion what so ever until Nick and Connor died. I never thought I’d live to see the day Sam Carson cried. He wasn’t one of those people who scream or quiver, just had the same stone cold face with tears coming down. I’m sure Connor would have had a playful laugh at that but of course; Nickolas would try and cheer him up.

“You want a bite” he spoke. “Sure…” I replied. “I’ll lay a patch soon then” he finished and hung up. Sam was eighteen and I was fourteen, my parents hated him. Claiming that he was going to try and do me, Sam Carson, even though very demanding and weird, would never even think of doing anything like that. He was that friend that was a big brother, but still a friend at the same time. He’s not aloud over at my house anymore because my moms teachers social at the high school and she sees how he acts with his friends. I just started grade eight at that school, Sam’s in his last year.

I heard honking from outside my window, noticing I was still in my pyjamas. Well I couldn’t care less what people thought of the way I looked. I wasn’t exactly the most girly chick around. I was that girl with the thick rimmed glasses with blonde curly hair that sat alone in all classes. I slipped on some plain sneakers and walked out the door. Their sat Sam in his soaked up band wagon. I guess he didn’t care that it was raining hard because he quickly jumped out of the car and hugged me. I think I meant the world to him; he didn’t care what anybody thought of him being around me. He always made sure I was safe no matter what…just liked Nick and Connor.

“Dibs!” I screamed happily. “Don’t have a cow, there ain’t much compitition for that seat” he chuckled. We quickly rushed to his red pickup truck in the pouring rain. It was beginning to soak me, making me feel like I was in a movie about a flood and I was one of the people that die. Now wouldn’t that be a horrible way to die…drowning…would they fish you out of the sea to give you a proper burial?

The water clouded on the windshield making look as if we actually were in a flood. Sam leaned in close enough to the windshield that if we suddenly had to stop I guarantee he would hit his face pretty hard. I hated but loved rain, it clouds up your head in a way that you just can’t focus on reality which is great because honestly, I hated reality.

In my little made up world things were much better than they are now, they’re no gangs, no labelling people on where they live, and no death. I liked that world it was mad e of sunsets. It was great just to come home from reality and see Nick and Connor in my mind again. Sam was there too, he wasn’t as he actually is. He was funny and loud instead of stone cold like he usually was. In my dream, Nickolas doesn’t write poems just to throw them away like he use to do before I stole them, he would keep them and he would be more outgoing showing his talents everyone knew he had. Connor wouldn’t risk his life for a little fun because in that world, they didn’t die.

We sat down in a corner booth being sure to stay away from everyone because of course; the story was all over the news and in the papers. With pictures of us, we got death stares from everyone now. Sam dug into his burger; he makes me lose my appetite by just watching him slaughter food. “So the police talk to you again?” I droned. He looked up innocently from his food, “All the time, they stop me on the streets when I’m just innocently walking”. They did that to me everyday too, I decided I would boycott all coffee and doughnut places just knowing they were inside just waiting for me.

It went silent as people crowded in for lunch time. Everyone was laughing and enjoy conversations with each other until they saw me and Sam, everyone just stopped and stared. “Is there something on my face?” he questioned feeling everywhere. I just rolled my eyes at his pathetic attempt of a joke. Connor would have sworn some pretty hurtful words at all those people; it always made me uncomfortable when he swore. A couple of girls not much older than me sat intensively close to our table listening in on us. Probably hoping to hear something about Malcolm boys dieing, Oh forget it. I knew that’s what they sat there for. The only other reason would be to stare at Sam but at this moment he wasn’t looking his best. Grimy pants, big bags under his eyes, a raunchy looking shirt and his hair looked as if it hadn’t seen a brush in a week. On usual days Sam looked decent but to other girls they would say statuesque. Apparently, he classified as good looking, I don’t see it.

“Hey cheer up Belle” Sam’s spoke zealously. “How can I cheer up when Nick and Connor are died?” I raged. Sam closed his eyes for a second and sighed. For once, Sam Carson didn’t have anything to say. The girls leaned in closer to our table. I could hear them whispering ear to ear through long, flowing blonde hair, “That’s the girl I was telling you about Liz, she was dating both them Malcolm twins” a tall one whispered to a girl that looked like she had a truck spill make-up all over her face. “What trash” another one that had features of a gremlin muttered. “Why is she hanging around with that dreamy Sam?” another one said quit loudly that Sam looked over as they whispered his name. “Maybe she likes older boys now…” one laughed. I could tell he could hear everything they were saying too, he didn’t look happy at all. In fact, he looked like a ripe tomato from anger. “That Connor kid was always annoying anyways…he thought he was so cool” the gremlin girl started and leaned in closer to her friends, “As for Nick, that kid just freaked me out”.

“Are you aware that we can hear you bashing ears?” Sam smiled innocently. The girls shifted around uncomfortable, “Um…what?” the girl named Liz raised an eyebrow. “Look, why don‘t you put an egg in your shoe and beat it?”. Both tables went so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “How did Nick and Connor die?” Liz asked. I tried to go over the details of that night in my head but I just couldn’t do it. “If I told you, you’d probably wet in your fishnet” he rolled his eyes at them. They were real trashy looking, real Greaser Girls. They all were, in fact wearing fishnet and their hair was done with lots of hairspray and the make-up looked as if there was so much it would all just slid down like pouring mud into a cup.

By then, all the trashy ladies chairs were moved closer. “Please tell us?” she pleaded. Sam grabbed my hand, it was warm like a nice summer breeze after a long cold winter, “Come on Bella, lets leave these greaser girls to their gossip” he pulled me roughly towards the door. I never thought Sam could ever hurt me like he did when he was pulling me out that door; he tugged on my arm hard; almost pulling it out of its socket. I swear I could feel my bones grinding together as he yanked me into the car. “Sam, your hurting me!” I screamed at him. The next thing he did was the last thing in the world I would have expected him to do.

Sam Carson, eighteen years old, strong, popular, caring, face like stone and all around great person. Sat there and just cried. This time it wasn’t just simple tears, he laid his head buried in is arms on the steering wheel, whimpering. Tears poured out of his eyes like a waterfall. I began to run my fingers gently through his hair trying to calm him. We sat there for a good twenty minutes before he calmed down.

It reminded me of the one time I saw Connor cry, sure I saw Nickolas cry lots because he just wasn’t use to how tough things were, but Connor was different. He realized the world wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows then just one day he cried.

　

　

 

It was a cold winter day, the snow was falling down, gently making everyone’s hair slimy from the over use of product mixed with water. Everyone in our group had that one thing they were known for. Connor was the leader, Nickolas was the kid that looked like he’d been kicked to the curb too many times, I was the childish quiet one, Sam was just the big brother, Katie was the annoyance, Delilah was sensible, and Marilyn was the wise cracker. Connor was leading us somewhere so he could smoke a cancer stick and we were just tagging along.

 Connor was just about to light his cigarette up when he saw something on the road. Being the kid he was, he thought it was maybe something gross like a dead animal. That’s exactly what it was. There lying in the middle of the road was a dead German Sheppard. It looked disgusting, and the smell of wet garbage on a summer day buried into my nose making it unbearable as I gagged loudly in the background as Connor studied the dog. He always loved animals, especial dogs. That boy didn’t show much sympathy for anything other than animals. I watched as a tear rolled perfectly down Connors cheek. He lost the taste for cigarettes after that day.

　

 

“Do you think about them often Adorabella?” Sam had stopped crying and faced me. I paused for a moment or two and thought about that, “Sam, there hasn’t been one day since September 13th that I haven’t thought about Nickolas and Connor Malcolm”. “Where do you think those boys are right now?” he asked me. “Nick and Connor or those boys that…killed them?” I whispered when I said killed. “Both” he answered. I thought for a long time about that, “The Malcolm twins, I know are up in heaven right now. Missing us as much as we miss them” I paused and thought once again, “Wherever those killers are, they’re going to pay for what they did. I swear on Nickolas and Connor’s grave”.

Author's Note

This chapter has a bit of slang from the 50's so...I suggest you might want to look up what they mean such as: "Razz My Berries".

Reviews

[Dittobug]

I really like your book so far... it's realistic and and sad... I like things like that. I like the 50s setting. Pretty cool.

"It reminded me of the one time I saw Connor cry, sure I saw Nickolas cry lots because he just wasn't use to how tough things were, but Connor was different. He realized the world wasn't all sunshine and rainbows then just one day he cried."

That part of the book made me think about myself... anyway... Keep up the god work. :]