There are some things you should know about this; 1: It is a short story. 2: The basic premise behind this story was inspired by *semi* true real life events, mostly the beginning. 3: This idea was brought up to me by Katie, who unfortunately has left me to go to the city, where she feels more at home.
Dust and Echoes *a tribute short story*
Plot by: Katie
Written by: Morgan
Chapter 1:
My first day of Kindergarten, I remember it like it was yesterday. My mother lifted me off the floor, pecked me on the cheeks, and left me in an unknown territory. Unlike the other kids in the many provinces of Harvest, I did not have access to Pre-School, although my two older siblings had before me.
The teacher looked down at me, a friendly, genuine smile on her face. Pointing to the floor in front of her, where all of the other students sat, she beckoned me over to the rest of the group. I obliged, comforted by the lady's sweetness. Taking a seat down beside another kid, I looked around. One boy nodded to me, waving to the best of his abilities not to be noticed. I shyly waved back, as the kid next to me looked over, a smile on her face.
"I'm Angel." She smiled, giggling as I tried to reply.
Something about her long brown hair made me feel comforted around her. I liked being in her company, and even though I had no idea what it meant at the time, I had fallen in love.
"I'm Billy." I smiled back, finally able to get the words to come out.
"Okay class." The teacher replied. "Today's story is; Petey the Pelican Drop-ship."
Petey the Pelican Drop-ship had to be my favorite story, not only because the drawings were always so vivid and colorful, but because my father was a Pilot in the UNSC, and I always imagined him in the book.
Of course, my father was never home. Even on the off-chance that he did come home, he was always so busy, I almost never saw him. Angel turned to me, placing her hand on mine, and smiled.
The boy who waved to me stood up from his seat, plopping down to my right.
"Name's Troy." He nodded.
"Billy." I said, as he clasped me on the back.
"You and me are going to be good friends." He said, nodding to Angel. "You can be too."
I remember for the entirety of that year we never left each other's sides. We were inseparable, but with all good things, they must come to an end. After Kindergarten, Troy was transferred to a whole other school, and the years following it, Angel and I drifted further and further away, until I was certain she had almost completely forgotten about me.
Each year of that span of time, the worse things got for me. My only friend was a fellow by the name of Sean, who for the time, was the only one that would come anywhere close to me. Everyone had some problem with me, in one way or another. I remember one night my Father was actually free, and we had been playing some board game, and the phone rang. He handed it to me, saying it was one of my friends from school.
"I don't like you, no-one likes you." It was Dylan and his best pal Zach, the ones that were the worst of my class.
My father, as paranoid as he became from his out of service job, had left the phone on speaker. Grabbing the phone back from me, he stormed out of the room. I wasn't sure what happened on the other side, until I could hear him yelling. Rarely did he get angry, but when he did, things were said, things he'd never say in a thousand life-times.
Whatever he said got Dylan and Zach off of my case, and it was only three years after that that they got their just deserts. They were caught in the Farmlands, grabbing Medical Marijuana and smoking it. I never saw them again until five years later, in High School.
One of my other bullies, Tyler, had a strange obsession with my Sister, Elena. Everyday he would mention something about doing things to my sister, things that I didn't understand at the time, other than they were a threat. Of course, I knew my sister could fend for herself, being almost six years older than me. But Tyler had gone too far, and I grew tired of his shit.
I remember him falling to the floor, a few broken teeth, some cracked ribs, and his stomach was bruised. I remember the teacher running at me like a angry bull, the wild look in her eye as she tried to pick Tyler off of the floor.
"You're such a loser." Melody, a friend of Angel's, spat at me, as the group walked away from the fight.
At home, it wasn't much different. My brothers were obsessed with the false idea that I liked other men. I respect the gays, but I am not so. It was a daily struggle, and thoughts started popping into my mind, thoughts that no eleven child should ever have thought.
Despite my constant optimism, I knew that I was alone.
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