Tuesday 29 October 2013

Lunch Break - Writer's Plot Challenge.

Lunch Break
The classroom smelt like sweat, summer and angst, Alex leaned against the sill of the only open window. The half closed venetians light cast shadows over the desks. He looked down at Frankie, slumped against his legs. He stroked Frankie’s head gently as the sounds of the schoolyard echoed around them.

Frankie leaned into his hand, almost catlike, and whispered “Wanna know how I got the scars?” his voice deeper through the tears. Alex gritted his teeth, biting back the tears, and said “Yes, tell me…”

Frankie sighed as he traced the scars with his right forefinger. Head down he spoke softly, “This one was when Jared told me I was a fag and should die. This one was when Marcus pulled my pants down in the packed locker room and told me no-one would want to fuck me with a dick like mine. That it was for the best that I was a fag ‘cos no chick would ever want it in them. That I’d be the bitch and never get to use mine. It hurt when I used the knife but not as much as knowing he was right.” His words tumbled over each other until he was silent again, looking up at Alex, his eyes hollow and sad.

Alex stepped to the left and sank down next to Frankie. Backs to the wall, they leaned against each other as Alex traced his own path up the scars on Frankie’s left arm. His fingers reached the white rolled up cuff of his sleeve and rolled it down, covering the memories that hurt and held Frankie’s hand tightly.

Frankie continued “Dylan, Lucy, Marie, Andrew, David, Mum, Dad… Each scar is a person, a line drawn that I cannot erase. A reminder to not give in…” he stopped talking as Alex pulled him closer into a hug. They held each other close. Alex’s hand stroked Frankie’s back as he tried to force the words out of his mouth. Words that would help. That would let Frankie know that he was loved.

“I’ve watched you become braver than me when you walked out of the locker room head up high. I watched you wear your sleeves rolled down in the hottest of weather. I watched you, wishing I was as brave as you.”

Frankie wiped his eyes on Alex’s shoulder

“I guess it all came down to one choice, really. Either get busy living or get busy dying.” Frankie whispered.
Alex nodded, “Get busy living your life, despite what people think you should be doing.”
He stroked Frankie’s cheek, stubble rough under his finger tips and gently kissed him.
“I love you, Frankie.”

Frankie nodded and pulled back, wiping his eyes, smiling. He rolled his sleeves up and settled next to Alex again. Holding hands, side by side, they sat… each wondering what would happen when they walked out of the classroom, holding hands; heads held high.

The End.


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