Round and Round We Go

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Micheal went up on his trailer house, to help and fix his father's antenna in the rain. So the bastard could watch his game without any trouble. Strange he is using duct tape, he knows that doesn't stick well with water, right?

Submitted: November 05, 2016

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Submitted: November 05, 2016



Round and Round’ We Go!

 A trailer was nestled in the center of vast dead grass land. Its coppery tone of rust, the dull gray of metal, mixed in with white chipping off slowly with age.  It made a weird whipping sound against the violent gust of wind and rain from a violent thunder storm passing by.  Suddenly a screen door barely gripping on the hinges flies open by a, large- black-steel –toe- boot.  A lanky teenage boy by the name of Michael came stumbling out in a yellow rain coat.

“Alright, alright!’ The boy hollered, just dodging the empty can of bud light that almost smacked him in the center of his forehead. A gust of wind sent the rain hood off, relieving his pimply face, just-growing in a beard and nappy black hair that due to the rain clung to his head; it was unruly and messy dry.  Now it stayed flat to his forehead and head. Scowling he walked around the trailer to what was called their “backyard” to grab the ladder. He adjusted it against the trailer and violent gust causing the ladder to rattle. He began to climb up it to the top.  A bent antenna beginning to rip from the roof the stem barely there still held together by the duct tape on it earlier.

Reaching out with his pale hands to grab the thing, it was wet and slippery, because of the constant pouring rain.  Rain was flying into his face by the giant wind, practically blinding him as he struggled. If only the bastard would just get cable, it wasn’t that hard to do! He ripped off with long piece of tape with his bare teeth as he struggled to keep the antenna upright and the wrap the tape around perfectly.

The fucking tape wasn’t sticking though like it did earlier. Snarling he tried his best to get the thing to work, but to no aid.

“God fucking dammet, this piece of shit fucker….” He cursed, slamming the roll of tape on the roof, shaking his head, could he do anything right? Just like in school, instead of trying to focus he just went out back with his boy Tommy and smoked a good blaze. Before stumbling back into class, laughing at the way his teacher spoke instead of actually paying attention. Whatever, he was going to drop out anyways once his Dad lets him.

 It wasn’t his fault though. They just never tried with him. People gave up way to easily on him, just like his mom did. Maybe that’s why his father was a drunkard and a bastard. Michael looked up at the gray clouds as streaks of lightening went across the sky. He was getting side tracked. He gripped the antenna again trying to steady it. Maybe he would talk to his girlfriend Mandy tomorrow after class.

Speaking of which… he realized that Mandy was acting weird all day. Pacing and panicking, after telling him they needed to talk while crying holding her stomach gently.  Michael paused, shaking his head side to side.  He would get a whooping if he didn’t fix this stupid thing.

He had a good idea though, a real good idea… He paused realizing that this could be his chance his motivation, maybe he could be the father, his father never was.  Instead of dropping out, he could maybe…

Suddenly he felt a pain so quick and sudden like lightening literally struck him, shooting from his arm into his chest.  The breath knocked out of him, he felt his sky blacken, a violent pop sound coming from his ears, metal taste in the back of his throat. The sound of his back impacting onto the ground, the sound of the lights going out in the trailer, the voices of the football announcer violently cut off.

“What the fuck!” A deep voice screamed in a drunken rage. “Michael when I get my fucking hands on you, you are dead! You fucking hear me!”

Michael didn’t have time to picture the beating he would have, instead his vision faded in and out. As he heard his own heart beat was slowly losing its pace. His breath becoming haggard, and deep, then, then just…black…

But? He didn’t get to do anything prove anything; he couldn’t die not now, not yet.

A light suddenly invaded his eyelids, telling him to open them. So he did, the blinding light swarmed his vision. He groaned shifting a little sitting up. He realized he was covered in chunks of grass and dirt. His clothes and shoes soaked. Looking up with his dark eyes, he saw the blue sky and little clouds passing by. He looked back down and saw the same piece of hunk metal trailer, with his father’s truck gone.

“Fucking Bastard…just let me sleep out in the rain will yah?” Grumbling, he tried to stand up, only to finally after his fifth try. Stepping inside the trailer, to collapse down on the couch, empty beer cans littered everywhere. He tried to wrap it around his head many times, but couldn’t figure it out.

  Was he struck by lightning? How was he alive? Did it actually happen?

The next day he stayed rested against the wall near the bleachers of the outside football field. Tommy was lighting up a blunt, taking a few inhales before passing it to him. A whiff of the smoke hit his nose. Inhaling, leaning back against the wall, blowing some out. He checked the time on his cheap cellular waiting for his father to arrive, to sign the papers.

He just broke up with Mandy, after she decided to tell him about her ‘trip’ to the clinic. Nothing changed it was all the same, a constant circle; like a merry go’ round.

And maybe that’s how he liked it. Even if he almost died, or didn’t he wasn’t sure. He just didn’t fuckin’ care.

Or maybe he did…

“Round and round,” he says out loud, his friend gives him an odd look. Michael stares at the blunt it’s almost at its end just a few hits left. He takes one look at his friend then flicks it away walking off.

“What the fuck man!” Tommy screamed. Scrambling to pick it up, as Michael walked away. “Where are you going?”

“To the principal’s office!” He shouted to him, before turning a corner and disappearing.

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