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Little Boy
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Jimmy felt his heart beat faster and faster with each approaching footfall- someone was coming, someone was looking for him. He gritted his teeth, trying hard not to shake.

Bring it! Bring it! I won't die like a fucking pacifist, I'll scratch your dick off!

As often as he tried to fool himself now with his probable death approach him, Jimmy's mind was clear. He couldn't lie to himself in the end, no matter how hard he wished. Leila didn't like him. He was a pussy, and he ran away from trouble. He swore too much, hated too much and was weak and cowardly. He was a vulture in this game, growing happier off the suffering of others. Survival of the Fittest had been made for Jimmy Brennan. It had been created for the express purpose of eliminating pussies like Jimmy from the face of the earth. Who would miss him? His parents? His siblings? They wouldn't care. The cameras would make sure of that, they'd make sure to show everything and anything wrong with him, damn him in their eyes. And when Jimmy would eventually succumb to some sucking chest wound, they would turn off the TV and wonder if a memorial service would really be necessary for such a bastard.

It doesn't have to be this way! It doesn't!

Anger burned in his eyes as a figure loomed out of the darkness.

It doesn't matter! I can change! I AM changing! I deserve redemption! I deserve life, not them! I deserve the entire fucking world, because I didn't have it before!

Jimmy moved into a crouching position, pulling his fist back, prepared to strike. Now was the time, now was HIS time. His heart beat faster, he lunged forward.

There was a click.

Jimmy faltered in his step as a light momentarily blinded him. He raised his hands, shielding his aching eyes. His foot throbbed as if to remind Jimmy of his failings. The element of surprise was lost, if he had even had it to begin with. Awkwardly stepping backwards, Jimmy contemplated running. If they had a gun, whoever it was, then his death was mere seconds away. A melee weapon... a few minutes away. Running would do nothing. He could feel a scream of anger building up inside him. This was to be his moment, and it had been taken from him. Jimmy Brennan would die and it would mean nothing to no one. No one would carry scars, signaling he had once existed...

"What? What the fuck!?" He managed to squeak out as his fear began to grip him. Jimmy heard a familiar voice.

A very familiar phrase.


Before Jimmy could react Carly Jean Dooley was once more, for the second time in a few days, rushing towards him. Throwing up his hands in terror, Jimmy flinched back trying to protect his face and his chest. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly where the girl was aiming.

Jimmy didn't really like Carly. He didn't really know Carly either. She had been in the woods on the first day, witness to the first of his many breakdowns. Jimmy would have cared more about the fact he'd cried in front of a girl, but he was positive she would die, and die quickly. His luck it seemed, wasn't really luck. Carly had survived, countless more cowardly students were probably lurking in the jungle, shitting their pants. Jimmy wasn't special.

His sadness was soon eclipsed by pain as a foot slammed into his crotch.

Jimmy let out a strange, OOF noise as he feel back down the small hill he'd been hiding behind. His hands flew down towards his crotch, cupping his nuts. Jimmy struggled to yell, he struggled to breath. He awaited the next blow, sure that Carly meant to finish him off, deliver a most embarrassing end. The blow never came. But the pain did. Tears began to leak out of Jimmy's scrunched up red face. He rolled about on the ground, trying in vain to yell out, to curse Carly's name. The girl was already gone.

Jimmy had been kicked in the balls before. He'd had his bones broken, he'd had his face broken. He'd been yelled at, cursed at. He'd had kids he didn't even know snicker at him in the hallway, flip him off and laugh. He'd once had a girl in his history class rip up a supposed "Love Note" from him, a love note with suspiciously similar hand writing to one, Jacob Charles. He'd once been shoved in a garbage can on the way home from school by some kids in a Mustang. He'd started his fair share of fights. He'd been punched in the face by Phillip Ward. He was on a first name basis with the school nurse, who coincidently, also seemed to loathe him. After so much pain, Jimmy figured he'd had gotten used to it, mastered it. Turned it into some kind of weapon, to be used against his oppressors. Jimmy dreamed of a day when, nose broken, blood streaming down his face he'd walk away from a fight, victorious at last, never to be fucked with again. Jimmy wanted the bruises to remind him of his victories, he wanted his cuts to leak pride not shame. He wanted to take an AK-47 and mow down the entire population of some backwater Vietnam village, and not feel a fucking thing.

Instead, Jimmy Brennan cried like a child who had dropped his ice cream, and begged God to make the pain stop. It didn't work. He rolled around on the ground for the next two or so minutes, blubbering like a baby. Jimmy didn't hear the approaching footsteps until they had stopped a few feet from him.

At first, he was sure it was Carly, returning with a 20 Gauge to blow his stupid fucking brains in. Looking up however, in the darkness Jimmy saw... a boy. Extending his hand. Jimmy was perplexed. And rather angry.

"Hey, man, you alright?"

Groaning and wiping tears from his eyes, Jimmy struggled upwards, his balls still hurting something awful. He gasped as he tried to talk, his face so red it must have looked like someone had taken a cheese grader to it.

"What... what the fuck do you think!?" Jimmy managed to gasp out, as he tried to climb back up the small hill he had fallen down. He ignored the boys' helping hand. Jimmy didn't need sympathy, not like this.

"I just got my nuts punched in by some stupid COCKSUCKING FAGGOT, OF COURSE I DON'T FEEL ALRIGHT. FUCKPASTE." Jimmy shouted, his volume rising with each word. He scanned the immediate area. Carly was gone, as was the figure from before. Jimmy spun around, looking in the gloom. They were gone. Jimmy let out a low growl of anger. Carly had kicked him, kicked him in the nuts and left him to die.

Why?! Why the fuck would she do that?! Did she just want me to suffer? Did she think I wasn't worth a bullet?! I'm worth a bullet! I'm worth all the bullets!

Turning back towards the boy, Jimmy crouched lower, massaging his crotch.

"They left! They fucking left, just like that! What the shit is that?! Motherfucker, that motherfucking fuckhead!! She kicked me and left! I didn't fucking DO ANYTHING!" Sinking to his knees, pain shot through him once more. Jimmy doubled over, gripping his nuts in terror.

"Jesus Christ! She broke my nuts! My balls are leaking! I can feel them! What the FUCK am I supposed to do with that, DUCT TAPE? Cunt! Fucking cunt that's what she is- CUNT, CUNT, CUNT! Shitcunt- motherfuc- ARGHHH! She left! SHE. FUCKING. LEFT. I'm not worth it!? I'M WORTH IT! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU JIMMY- FUCK, FUCK FUCKASSDICKSUCK!"

Jimmy pounded a fist into the ground in rage. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't. A song was screaming in his ear, louder than it had ever been and he couldn't identify it. It was killing him, driving him insane, slowly and methodically. God was trying to kill him and he would succeed. But first, Jimmy Brennan was meant to suffer, swear and cry. And a million cameras would chronicle his suffering, for all of the world to watch, until the heat death of the universe.

Jimmy Brennan; Born to Fail.
Edited by Little Boy, Nov 20 2010, 03:35 PM.
Posted Image Posted Image
Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
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"My dick did the Mexican Hat Dance and I had to suppress the moan that wanted to escape." - Casey

NOTE TO SELF: Burns on the left side. LEFT SIDE.
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Late Dawns and Early Sunsets · The Felled Forest: North