The Scar

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Danny The Comic House
A story about two best friends against each other in a game in tag; who will win?

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The story

Submitted: September 30, 2016

Dylan Gaskins
Fresh Pole
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I remember a time when I was eight years old and a time when I still live in my old beloved house. On this day, my best friend Andrew came over to my house, and the both of us were having fun outside with water guns and the orange leafs on the ground. After a long game with our water guns, we got bored with them. Andrew was right next to me and we were thinking about a game we could play. Before I thought of anything Andrew slap me in the face.

“Your it Dylan!” Andrew said while running away from me. I ran after him; we ran, and ran, and ran, until finally I got him in the corner. I jumped towards him, but he dodged me and ran towards the shed. I jumped up in the air and sprinted towards his direction, but to my surprise I couldn’t see or hear him.

I twisted to my left and to my right, but with no good result. I then saw there were only two places where he could hide; Behind the playhouse, which was on the left side of the shed where I was or next to the fat tree with the big pile of leaves all around. “Where are you Andrew?” I said while slowly walking towards the fat tree. My back was against the fat tree, then I jumped right behind it and BOOM! He wasn’t behind the tree.

Then, I saw Andrew in the playhouse, so I quickly ran in front of the playhouse. “It’s over Andrew,” I said.

“No it’s not Dylan. When I see a chance to get past you I will. I will just jump off if you do come up here,” he said with a big smile. “Your move Dylan.”

I just stood right in front of the playhouse thinking to myself, “How am I going to tag him?” Then I looked at my surroundings; nothing to my left, but sticks and leafs. I also looked to my right and saw the same sticks and leafs, but I saw a large metal pipe with a sharp broken point at the end, which was right in front of the shed.

I turn back to the playhouse and saw Andrew with that dumb smile of his. I walked to the pipe and I was trying to lift it up by the sharpened end and I was aiming the pipe at the playhouse. “You're not going to throw that pipe at me!” Andrew quickly said with fear on his face. The fear slowly went away when he realized I couldn’t lift the pipe up correctly. He had an old ugly smile on his face, because I wouldn’t stop trying to get the pipe. All the anger that was inside of me, wanted to hit him with the pipe. I finally lifted the pipe up and then I saw the fear back into Andrew’s face. I threw the pipe at the playhouse with a scream, but the pipe didn’t hit the playhouse, nor did the pipe hit him. The pipe hit me.

The swing of the sharp broken pipe cut a piece of my right arm skin. I then grabbed my right arm and screamed in pain. I saw Andrew with true fear, because his face was so pale. Andrew then jumped down from the playhouse, ran to me, and he rush me inside to put my arm in the sink with cold water. He ran around the house to get my mom. My mom grabbed the med kit out of the closet and then put medicine on my right arm and wrapped it.

Six weeks later, my arm was as good as new, but I felt really stupid about throwing that pipe at the playhouse. “What if it hit Andrew?” I think to myself. I wasn’t thinking right, because I was blinded by my own anger.

Now remember, think before do you stuff like I did or it might hit you in the face or your arm. It might fight back.
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