Choice of Healing

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A way of seeing life when all things seem wrong but there is a brighter future- Archer gives you a glympse into his life and things you can't teel just by looking at him

Submitted: June 12, 2013

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Submitted: June 12, 2013

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As Archer walks down the street towards the bus stop he allows his head to fall forward, his dirty blonde hair falling into his eyes. With his shoulders hunched forward he trudges towards a free seat, putting down his guitar case and sinking down into the seat he places his elbows on his knees and leans forward putting his face in his hands. At that moment his phone rings, gingerly he pulls out his blue out of date flip phone and answers slowly thinking it’s going to be his best mate and fellow band member, Lyndon, calling to yell at him for completely ruining their audition. However when he answers he hears Lyndon’s voice but he’s definitely not mad, instead he’s throwing words at Archer like ‘successful’, ‘callback’ and ‘moronic’. After hearing that he hadn’t ruined the bands chances Archer hangs up and leans back sighing both with relief and exhaustion.

Looking down at himself he takes in his clothing decision for today which consists of a blue and white striped shirt and Black checkered shorts paired with black converses. He had to admit not his best style decision ever but he had been too stressed lately to notice. Working thirty-five hours a week took its toll, especially when mixed with three hours of band practice a day. He runs his left hand through his hair and looks up to see his reflection looking back at him, he lets his gaze fall on his face, his strong facial features even more prominent due to sleepless nights. He looks to his jaw, squared with a rugged five o’clock shadow; his eyes move up his high cheek bones and past his nose with a slight bump in it, evidence of its breakage, and finally he stops at his eyes. Looking into them is like looking into a deep blue abyss, he had always had the most unusual blue eyes, at times they almost looked black; he got his eyes from his father, as with everything else which he was glad about because he didn’t want anything reminding him of his mother.

Archer had always been the kind of person to keep to himself, he liked his own company. Thinking back to his childhood, its evident why, his mother who was always drugged up, bottle of alcohol in hand, would curse at him and tell him to stay away from her. Ever since the death of his younger brother, Cole, his mother had been withdrawn and violent. It hit them all hard but his mother became a ghost of herself and after his parents finally divorced, he could find no one to blame but himself. Was he not worthy of a happy family? Looking back he was always so grateful to his father for getting him out of there, unfortunately not before his mother could leave her mark, a wide gash down the length of his back with one of the shattered bottles she always seemed to be surrounded by.

As the bus arrives, pulling Archer out of his reverie, Archer stood and took in the place he had only recently come to love, his father had moved him here when he was fifteen but he only had true appreciation for it now, seven years on. The hustle and bustle of the people around him always gave him a sense of security in a world where he rarely felt any; he liked blocking out the noise of the world with his iPod but today chooses to just embrace it. Hoping onto the bus he pays the fee and takes a seat towards the back, as the bus moves forward he spots a familiar face in the crowd and gives a smile and wave. People here new he had a past and yet they didn’t mind, didn’t try to find out more, instead they accepted all of him.

Leaning his head against the window he watches as rain begins to fall down outside and tries to imagine himself as someone different but as much as he tries all he can see is his one bedroom apartment with his small kitchen and living area fixed perfectly to fit him and his black Labrador, Tyron, sleeping on the worn out couch as he always does. Although he’d probably never admit it to anyone, Archer loved his life, every struggle made him who he is. As the rain starts to bucket down he pulls out his phone and sends a quick text saying something he’s only ever said one other time, “I love you, Dad”.


© Copyright 2020 Miss B. All rights reserved.

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