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Your Turn
Author:
This Ebony Bird PM
Everybody loves to play games, don't they? The joy, the thrill of bending the rules ever so slightly in your favour, what's not to like? Read, and ask yourself one, innocent question: Want to play?
Rated: Fiction T - English - Crime/Horror - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,544 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 07-17-11 - Published: 07-14-11 - id: 2932851
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

Your Turn

An Original Story by Two Awesome People
However, Only One of Them Has an Account Here.
So... Yeah. Read and Review, S'il Vous Plait.
Any Criticism is Helpful [:

The young boy sat on the cold linoleum floor, his back hunched against the wall. He always spent recess by himself, none of the other kids wanted to play with him. Why should they? He was stupid, he was dirty, he was useless, he was disgusting, he was ugly, he was nothing. He was nothing. Nobody wanted to play with a dumb little nothing boy. Even his own father couldn't stand to look at him. Nobody loved him, no one ever would.

He was nobody, an unloved, and uncared for, nobody.

None of the other kids would ever invite him to play one of their joyous games, never would one of the pretty young girls in his class take his hand and ask him if he wanted to join in on a spirited game of capture the flag.

It was never going to happen, and he had to accept it.

Curious at the shrieking sounds of playful laughter and squeals of the other children, he slowly stood up, his thin, gaunt figure stretching taller than most of the children in his class. His lank brown hair brushed in front of his cold, empty eyes, cutting like ragged dark brown curtains across his pale, angular face. He saw his right hand reach out and touch against the window in front of him, barely aware of making his own movements, as if he was a puppet, guided by a greater being.

He looked into the window, but only the chiseled, hideous features of his face and his deep set hazel eyes glistening with held back tears stared back through the glass. His hand dropped to his side again, the hand print leaving a moistened mark against the foggy glass. He gritted his teeth, not even bothering to try and hide the tears that began to drip down his cheeks, leaving tear stains on his face before falling silently to the floor.

"Hi, I'm Simon." He jumped as a cool, measured voice echoed through the room. He whipped around to see a young boy, with hair that seemed to shine as gold, and eyes of a piercing blue. "Want to play?"

"Sure," the young boy was about to say, as he looked down trying to dry his eyes, embarrassed that he had been caught crying, but when he looked back up the boy was gone, his haunting image still engraved in this boy's mind. Slowly he turned back to the window, confused and disheartened, Simon's question still echoing inside his head.

"Want to play?" It asked over and over again. He shook his head trying to rid himself of the words he had so longed to hear.

"Want to play?" It asked again, the words burrowing into the chasms of his brain.

"Want to play?"

"No!" he screamed back. "You aren't here how can I play with you?"

"I know you want to" the voice answered back. Suddenly Simon appeared in the window, his blue eyes staring into the hazel orbs on the other side of the class, piercing through his skin and learning all of his deepest secrets.

The young boy jumped back, but Simon stayed where he was, unmoving, like a statue. The boy looked around, but saw nobody in the room with him. He slowly turned back to the window. Simon hadn't moved. He tried to run, but his legs wouldn't move. He could only stand and stare.

Finally the terrified boy whispered, "Where are you?" Yet Simon just stared back, blankly. The boy finally found the courage to move, and dashed out the door, ran down the hall, past Mrs. Krinsen's class and out the school doors, slipping down the steps. He tumbled down landing in a heap at the bottom.

There was a moment of silence as all of the children around him stopped what they were doing to stare. Then one little girl began to giggle.

Then another.

A boy began laughing hysterically, falling to the ground tears smearing his face.

Suddenly the whole school yard was laughing at him.

Dumb stupid dirty him.

All of the school was laughing except for one little boy, standing off to the side just watching. Though his face was masked by the crowd around him, his piercing blue eyes were still visible through the crowd of boys. Those unmistakable eyes.

He saw the boy's face and though his lips didn't move, he heard a soft innocent question in his head.

"Want to play?"

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