A life of love and loss

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Hi, here is the start of a story,screen play, not sure what it would be, iv never written anything before just want to see what people would think. be gentle.

Submitted: November 01, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 01, 2015




As he sits at his desk staring out the window with a dull echo of the teachers voice in the background, “earth to Jenkins, are you with us? Pay attention” turns to focus on the board to see the words no teenage really care about ‘career day’ as another grown up tries to say how wonderful their job is another 9-5 desk jokey.

 He starts to fade back into his own head BANG the classroom door slam shut, then the sound or metal scraping along the classroom floor, looks up to see a pair of boots so shiny he can see his reflection in then which leads his eyes a dark tanned oak marching stick adjacent to a chest full of medals “I am sergeant major Campbell royal artillery queens army” finally something that has his attention, such a proud well presented man listing country and country he’s visited “yes this is it get me out this place” the though keeps rolling though head, then a loud ringing “that is lunch” the teacher yells out as the class try to vacate the room as quick as the can.

Walking across the school field watching the shadow of the school fading away in the sun, “I need to leave this place I’m better than this place” muttering to himself, though the park where the older kids sit wasting their life away “I’m better than them” mopping up the stairs as the sound of screaming and arguing starts to get louder and more familiar, he arrives at the front door parents at each other again nothing new nothing has changed!.

“What are you doing home?” dad shouts at him with the smell of last night bottle of whiskey still lingering on his breath, “its lunch time, where mum” as his ear picks up on the sound a someone trying to hide the sound of crying coming from the other room “mum, you ok?” with her head berried in hands trying to fight back the tears of a never ended fight, “Paul promise me, promise me you won’t turn out like him” as the sound of the front door shutting “off to the pub” following the bang.

“go on get yourself back to school, I have to get ready for work iv picked up a extra night shift” dragging his heels as he heads back towards a place where he feels alone and a outsider “your late” gets shouted in his direction, teacher again. Back to sitting inside the same four walls with nothing but his own imagination keeping him entertained, the same image running though his head him stood there in that immaculate uniform proud to be part of something.

“Yes this is it” he shouts out forgetting he’s sat in a room full of classmates as they snigger and giggle at him, as the rest of the day passes clock watching waiting for the end of the day, there it is the final bell home time!.

Stood at the bus stop watching the big kids pick on others and girls screaming and shouting at each other, “where to” the tired bus drivers asks “town please” decision made not going home not yet something he feels he must do. As his stands outside the recruitment office wondering if he should go in or keep going, “can I help you son” it’s him the man from the school strolling towards in “I want to join the army” spouts out his mouth before he managed to engage his brain. “Well you can do it on the pavement, inside lad”.

Sat on the bus returning home Army folder under his arm one signature that all he needs from his parents, running up the block stairs he his stopped dead in his tracks as his auntie Jane stands there with two police officers. “Paul inside it’s your mum, there’s been an accident” she says, as he heart sinks into the pit of his stomach.  Rushes into the kitchen to see his dad slumped over the kitchen table a man of anger and aggression sobbing in pieces, “go and see your dad” whispered in his ear as policeman lightly nudges him toward the table.

A few days pass then surrounded by family and again that felling of being alone in a crowd, a sea of white shirts and black ties filling the flat, slowly emptying he clutches a piece of paper and approaches his farther slouched in his arm chair. “Dad, can you sign this I’m joining the Army” with he’s eye lids getting heaver and that grip around the bottle slowly loosening off, “there now fuck off, you will only fail anyway, you will be back here in no time you’re a nobody” he hears his old man mumble under his alcohol tinted breath.

© Copyright 2018 Richard Graham. All rights reserved.

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