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Late Dawns and Early Sunsets; [Late Day 3, OPEN]
Topic Started: Nov 6 2010, 12:05 AM (3,702 Views)
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
[[Jimmy Brennan continues from The Only Way is Up ]]

Jimmy Brennan wanted to kill something.

No, not something.

He wanted to kill everything.

He wanted to kill Danya, for putting him in such a sick, twisted game. He wanted to kill his classmates, for making him afraid, making him Jimmy Brennan "The Pussy". Most of all, he wanted to kill his parents for having the fucking gall to give birth to him in the first place.

Jimmy stumbled through the forest, his feet red and bloody, his socks torn through. Somehow late on the first night, after collapsing from exhaustion, Jimmy had lost his shoes. He had no idea how he had done it, and knowing that he was being watched by cameras 24/7 he hadn't spent too long looking for them. He had no intention of looking like a complete idiot on live TV so he simply left the clearing, hoping anyone watching would simply assume he had meant to leave his shoes behind. Jimmy only truly realized the absolute stupidity of this decision on the next day, when he'd cut his right foot on a sharp branch. Not being well versed in medicine, he'd initially tried to band-aid the cut back together. Failing this, he wrapped a cloth around his foot, which he likewise lost a few hours later.

He had no map. He had no idea where anything was. His weapon was a can of soda. His feet were aching and bleeding, and he was angry and sleep deprived. His pants, which he hadn't bothered to change since the first day, smelt like piss. And somewhere along the way, Jimmy's wall of denial had faltered and he realized that Leila had probably just been fucking with him all along. It didn't stop him from getting a raging boner thinking about her, but it had blown his last ditch effort at self respect out the window. The only upside he could find was that he hadn't encountered anyone since the mountain. With no one encountered, that meant there was no one to kill him. Jimmy reasoned this was a very good thing.

Everyone on the Island hated him, good guy or bad guy it made no difference. He was Jimmy Brennan to them, a coward, a pussy and a liability. He wasn't even worth wasting a bullet on. That's what made him angry the most. He WAS worth it. Sure, he had done some stupid things in his day, but he had changed. He was hardcore, would always BE hardcore. He wasn't a coward, he wouldn't go down without a fight. And he would prove that before he was done, that he vowed. Win or lose, Jimmy Brennan would fight like a dog and earn some respect.

The announcements hadn't exactly been as bad as Jimmy thought they'd be. Having next to no friends, he wasn't moved by any of the deaths. He even found himself smiling in delight at times when a certain student was listed.

Paige Strand, that asshole Jacob's girlfriend, had been shot to death. As far as Jimmy was concerned, it served her right for being such a huge fucking bitch. That disgusting fat-ass Harold had been killed as well, and frankly Jimmy was happy he'd at least lived longer than him. As the names went on and on, Jimmy began to get more excited rather then fearful. How many students had been on the trip? It couldn't be long until there was just a few remaining. Maybe he could make it, maybe he COULD survive.

Survival was something Jimmy thought about often. He'd mostly put himself down as "As good as dead", but regardless he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he got his hands on a gun. He'd definitely fuck some shit up, but could he make it? No one had actually attacked him yet, unbelievable as it was. Waiting for death, expected or otherwise was a shitty strategy he figured. His only objective was survival, and with each name he could feel himself getting closer to his goal.

Trudging through the forest, lost in his thoughts, Jimmy didn't register the lack of trees until he was standing smack dab in the middle of a clearing. He cursed and momentarily sat down on a stump, bringing up his right foot to take a better look at it. For the most part, it looked clean. He supposed that was a good thing. It hurt like a bitch, which he figured was a bad thing. Jimmy opened his bag and began to dig around for a water bottle, or something to clean the wound. Coming up empty handed, he fell back onto the stump, stretching. It felt good to stretch.

Damn, how much longer 'til the next announcement? How many more've been killed? Fucking shit, this is boring, all this waiting. I guess that's a good thing... Don't wanna get used to excitement, not without a fucking weapon...

Pulling himself up he scanned the immediate surroundings, something he figured he should have done in the first place. Jimmy often found himself making such strategic blunders, but it hadn't resulted in anything bad thus far. Squinting in the growing darkness, Jimmy saw nothing at first... and then, just like that, he spotted them. Two very tall trees, moving. Moving? Trees don't move. People then.

"Shit!" he cried out loud, falling off the stump into the dirt. He had no idea if they'd spotted him. He didn't want to check. Twisting around, Jimmy looked frantically about him for a means of escape.

"Shit!"

Why the fuck would I leave the fucking forest!? What the fuck Jimmy! Pull the fuck together!


Risking a glance up, Jimmy saw the two figures hadn't moved. Much more intriguing, he could see another figure slowly approaching them. What was it? An ambush?

Fucking shit, is someone gonna get murdered!?


Jimmy wiggled his way forward through the dirt on his chest, trying to make as little noise as possible. Hauling himself up behind a stump he observed the figures, watching for any sign of violence. He could feel his heart pumping fast, but it wasn't from fear. He grinned to himself as he watched the scene.

Damn, I'm a cold one... I'm like a fucking Vulture, waiting for the leftovers... hehehehhh
V5
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Oswaldo Marx --> "Chicks dig scars? Yeah, I'm calling bullshit." --> Cicada Nights
Mikko "Mike" Korhonen --> "Interesting, very interesting!" --> A Casual Question
V4 / Mini's
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"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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Little Boy
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Shit, shit shit!

Jimmy hit the dirt with a thud and stayed there, trying his best to not make any more noises. A flashlight beam illuminated the ground around him, (And quite possibly himself, although Jimmy wasn't about to look and see) and a somewhat... strange voice announced they'd located Jimmy. He felt himself beginning to sweat. His plans had pretty much been dashed as soon as he'd thought them out.

Well fuck them! I'm not gonna' walk out, act all friendly! Look what happened last time! Fucking Franco, just making fun of me! And Leila! And those boys' all given a fucking handgun- WHAT THE FUCK DANYA. WHY. Why did I get a can of soda? Am I supposed to kill'em with soda!? Fuck them! Fuck you! You probably just want me to play, you want me to fail, you- you- RGGHHHH!

Jimmy pounded his fist into the ground as the flashlight beam finally hovered away. He had no idea if he'd given himself up. He had no idea if the boy (He was very certain it was a boy) was just bluffing. But he WAS certain of what he was going to do. He wasn't going to move, not another inch. Not even if someone was shooting up the place, he'd just lay low, wait until it's all done. He wasn't afraid to die, he wasn't afraid to kill.

I'm not afraid! I'll do it if I have to! I've gotta win this game, I can make it! I can! These assholes, they don't mean shit to me! So why should it matter? I've just been Jimmy Brennan, a fucking annoying little shit to them! Why should I give them any- any sympathy? I'm not gonna! I deserve to live, not them!


On a further inspection, Jimmy realized he was very afraid to die. There was more talking in the clearing. By the sound of things, another person had joined the party. Another boy. Jimmy felt his hands ball into fists. A low growl emanated from his throat.

I probably don't even know him, and he probably fucking hates me. Word of mouth. How's that fair? How is this fair? I haven't done anything wrong. I'm the good guy! They won't believe me! That's just it! It's go time Jimmy, become an animal! No fear, no feeling! Go go go, let the adrenaline and God knows what else take you...


Taking a deep breath, Jimmy peaked his head out to scan the area. He couldn't see much of anything in the dark, and he wasn't even sure if the group was still there or had left. His suspicions were starting to get the better of him. Paranoia soaked into his mind, infecting his thoughts.

Maybe they're looking for me...


Jimmy shook at the idea, trying hard to push back his fear. He couldn't be afraid, or cry, or anything. He'd been mocked by just about everyone, and he was sick of it. He had ALWAYS been sick of it. No one had understood, but he WAS changing. Gradually. He wasn't taking it laying down anymore. The altercation in the forest, the mountain, a week ago Jimmy would never have imagined he could have possibly survived that, survived this far in Survival of the Fittest. Not with Bayview. But lo and behold here he was, still alive, only a cut foot holding him back. Back home, they must have been impressed. And he was determined to keep up the good work. Fear didn't belong with Jimmy Brennan, not anymore.


If they're coming for me, I'm gonna slit their god damn throats. I'll jump up, an' haymaker the first guy. He'll have a knife and I'll grab it, spin and just like- BAM! Straight into the head of the next one. That's what I'll do. They won't expect that. They'll- they won't expect anything from me! And I'll prove them wrong! I'm not a nobody, I'll show Leila! I'm hardcore and when I see those fuckheads at the mountain, shiiiiit they'll see a brand new Jimmy! I got a plan now! I'm not gonna die, I'm not afraid!


In the back of his mind, Jimmy was very, very afraid. But he wasn't going to listen to anything anymore, not even his doubts. They'd never helped before and they wouldn't help now. It was just Jimmy now. Jimmy Brennan, his balls and his fists. And he was going to impress.

Come'on! Come looking for me! I'll show you what I got! I'll fucking kill you all!
Edited by Little Boy, Nov 15 2010, 07:56 PM.
V5
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
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"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.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
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.

"FUCK YOU JIMMY BRENNAN!"

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.
V5
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
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"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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Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Jimmy was panting, straining as he tried to keep his breathing steady. He was failing miserably. His hand was aching, his fingers had long gone numb. His fists seemed a permanent part of him, an extension of his will. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't. He had no idea where the boy had appeared from, or for how long he had been there laughing at him. He could feel his mind bend, and he pushed, willing himself to snap. But it wasn't that easy. The words ripped him apart. He felt weak, he felt like crying. His bottom lip quivered in a deadly mixture of sorrow and rage. Jimmy Brennan could almost feel the cameras all around, focusing in on him. His mind was doing cartwheels, screaming out a song, pushing him ever closer to the breaking point. And it was just what he wanted.

A tiny voice held him back. A tiny shred, a mixture of his fear, his self-loathing. If he failed, what would he be? Just another Youtube clip. Just another hilarious blooper, an ugly death. It wasn't time for action. The voice had always been there, unacknowledged, crammed in the back of his brain. Jimmy couldn't afford to let it out, even let it know it existed. He was undefeated. He had to be unbreakable. And the voice ensured it. The voice told him it was a fluke, a lucky shot. The voice said that it wasn't game day, the voice said it was a practice run. It held him back, and it kept him sane. But he couldn't afford it now. He couldn't afford to wait any longer, he couldn't afford to LIE.

"Shut up." He said, his voice cracking with the last syllables. "Shut up. You don't know anything!"

Through his growing rage, he recognized the figure... Alex White. Just another face in the halls, just another mocking voice. It seemed like the entire student population of Bayview was intent on kicking him while he was down. It didn't matter what he wanted, it didn't matter what he tried. They wouldn't understand. They didn't understand, not one of them. Jimmy was understanding. The gears, the reasoning for Danya's existence... it was all clicking as the self-induced madness began to envelop him.

Not even here, on the Island. They're still THEM. They're still the fucking monsters they always were! That's why it exists! That's why- it's just a display! We're just on display! And they don't understand it's over! They don't understand, and- and they think it's a joke! They think it's funny and its'- how!? How is it funny!? God! How is it funny God?! Am I just a joke to you?! You asshole, you fucking slut! Go die Jesus! Go die Mary and Joseph and all your fucking angels, and especially you God, because you are a fucking prick!

His breathing grew even faster. Jimmy made short quick gasps as if he was desperate for air. His face glowed bright red as he fought back a loosing battle with his tears.

"I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die! Isn't that enough for you!? What the FUCK IS ENOUGH FOR YOU!?" He screamed, stumbling down the hill towards the pair.

Jimmy's brain began to race faster and faster, spinning around in a confusing jumble that even he couldn't make sense of. He didn't know what Alex was saying, he didn't even know if they had finished talking. The words were flowing out of his mouth, and he knew he had past the point of no return.

"I get here! I get to this place, and it's supposed to be HELL! It's supposed to be fucking apocalypse, we're supposed to be massacring each other, raping and shooting and outright fucking murder and and- being adults! That's what it's all about! They want us to grow the fuck up, get our dicks wet, fucking KILL bitches, be ANIMALS, BE HARDCORE. And- and that's all it's about! It's a club, it's a fucking country club for all the cunts and the fuckers who think they're tough shit, think they fucking know what it's all about! Because they're MATURE, they UNDERSTAND! NO! THEY DON'T. THEY DON'T GET ME. I DON'T GET IN. I'm not GOOD enough for this, you fucking cunts!? I'm not BAD enough for you? I'm not worth it? You don't think I'm worth a bullet!? I'm worth all the bullets! I'm worth a fucking ATOM BOMB. I CAN BE WHATEVER I WANT, BECAUSE I'M NOT A FUCKING COWARD. I DON'T DESERVE THIS. I DON'T DESERVE TO DIE. YOU DO. YOU DESERVE TO DIE. ALL OF YOU MOTHERFUCKERS, I'M BETTER THAN YOU! AND THIS IS JUST IT. WE GET HERE, AND IT'S THE SAME. THIS IS BAYVIEW AS IT'S REALLY BEEN. THIS IS FUCKING AMERICA!"

He was crying again, he had sworn he would never again, but it mattered little now. He felt empty inside, and it was beginning to feel comforting. It reminded him of home, it reminded him of nights alone, dreaming of his victory. The victory the voice had assured would one day come, if he would just wait, just hold on and not change a thing...

Jimmy paused, his entire body visibly shaking. He hurt all over. He had begun spilling his guts for all that was worth. He wobbled back, unsteady on his feet. Jimmy Brennan felt a sickening sensation building up inside him, from his guts, up into his chest. He felt loose, elastic-like.

"I DESERVE to win! I suffered, I bled, I did all that shit long before this fucking island made it the style! And now, now that we get here- you all think I'm not worth the trouble? You think I'm not a threat, that I'm a fucking joke!? You think I'm going to sit down, and- and cry like a fucking coward!? You fucking CUNT. You fucking BASTARD. I am going to die! But I swear to that dick-sucking motherfucker up there in heaven, I will die breaking your fucking COCK. I WILL RIP YOUR THROAT OUT, AND STUFF IT IN YOUR ASS. I. HATE. YOU!"

A single thought rang out through his mind.

Jimmy screamed, anger and bloodlust shooting up through his veins and into his lungs. Winding his fist back, Jimmy sailed forward aiming a punch directly towards Alex's face.
V5
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
Spoiler: click to toggle

Quote:
 
"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.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Little Boy
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STICK IT IN ZEE BOOOOOOOT~~~~
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Jimmy Brennan walked down the hall of Bayview Secondary, his head low to the ground. The bandage on his nose obscured most of his vision; the right side of his face was a swollen purple mess. Jimmy always assumed bruises would be some sort of a trophy, battle scars. These were anything but. His face and his nose were a painful throbbing reminder of his failure. The fight had occurred only a day ago, but the news had spread fast. By noon, not a single kid at Bayview would be in the dark. Jimmy Brennan was the laughing stock of the school and even now he could picture kids clustered at lunch tables, talking about how Phillip Ward made him his little bitch.

I wasn’t. That wasn’t how it happened. It was a lucky shot!

His anger was tight, a pain in his gut he couldn’t remove. It was tearing a hole through him, and every lingering gaze only increased it. Ward had been pissed to say the least, after his ban from the team. Hockey was one of the only things he seemed to like, and Jimmy had momentarily taken it away from him.

At least I did that. At least I made him squirm, that crazy fuck…

Ward was still pissed and Jimmy would have been a fool to not suspect an eventual retaliation. He wasn’t a fool. Phillip may have won the fight, but he wasn’t done yet.

They never are. They can’t just leave me alone! I left him smarting though. That’s something. I did something. Get it Jimmy? You HURT him. It wasn’t a total loss. It was a warm up.

That was just a warm up Jimmy. Wait ‘till the day it’s for real. Then you’ll show’em. You’ll show’em all what Jimmy fucking Brennan can do!



Jimmy Brennan opened his eyes and let out a sob. His nose felt shattered, his muscles ached. He was vaguely away he was bleeding, from where he did not know. Gingerly he raised one of his gloved hands up to his face, giving a cry as pain laced its way up his arm. Laying on his back, Jimmy gently prodded his face trying to locate the source of the blood. It didn’t do much good. It seemed like there was blood everywhere, pain everywhere. Alex White had done what every kid at Bayview dreamed of, beating the living shit out of Jimmy Brennan.

Fucker left enough of me for others though... Motherfucker… My face…

Jimmy realized he was crying, but nothing short of the wrath of God could make him stop. He’d been lying to himself, holding a curtain up to his life, obscuring the bad, embellishing the… non-existent. Sadness flowed through him along with another wracking sob. He had nothing. To these people, even in the end times, he was nothing.

It hurts. Oh god, my face, my fucking ARM, it hurts…

He had awoken a few minutes after Alex had departed, and had lain still for far longer. The idea of Alex coming back to finish the job, to snap his cowardly neck was terrifying and the fear had kept him awake long after his adrenaline had quit. If Jimmy was going to die, he was going to die with dignity.

Doesn’t change the fact I don’t want to fucking DIE though, does it?

His luck had been incredible. To blunder about in the woods with zero sense of direction and training and not run into some sociopath with a gun and some spare time on his hands, it had to be luck. Because the only other option was skill, and as Jimmy was becoming acutely aware, he had no skill.

Jimmy finally succeeded in sitting up. With a final pathetic sniffle, Jimmy began his next painful task, standing again. His legs were numb and he felt dizzy, not to mention his balls continued to ache at the mere thought of Carly Jean. He briefly wondered how many hits the video had accumulated on Youtube. Laying next to him on the ground was a strange sight. His can of Moxie sat next to a half empty water bottle, absolutely pristine. Mocking him. He scowled and snatched it up, throwing it in his bag along with the water bottle. Thoughts of Carly Jean filled his mind and his scowl intensified.

What a fucking bitch. The next time I see her, the next time…

Jimmy’s thoughts trailed off. He couldn’t complete the sentence. For all the hate he had, he didn’t have enough. And it was killing him. Kicking the dirt, Jimmy staggered momentarily. Everything he had, he had tried to give everything he had in that one moment, that one punch. What had happened?

Shit all. I punched him, it did shit all. He had me down, he knocked me out. I can cuss all I want, I can try all I want, but I can’t. My luck is going to run out. I’m going to die here, and no one will care.

It was infuriating. It was terrifying. Jimmy had been punched, he had been abused, but he had never come close to the brink, close to deaths door. He’d thought he was a goner in the woods, on the mountain, but that was nothing in comparison to those tense hours, laying alone and praying Alex had left. Jimmy didn’t know if it was normal to feel shame, but he did. He felt shame, but moreover he felt weak. His legs felt like sticks. He wobbled and this time fell, clutching his gut.

This was it! That was the big time! This is when it counts and what did I do? What have I always done? Nothing! I fucked it up! I fucked it up, and it’s all fucked and I got nothing! I got NOTHING! I’M GOING TO DIE!

“I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

Jimmy screamed. Jimmy cried. Jimmy wailed and shouted until his throat was raw. God didn’t answer. Jimmy Brennan was alone. Jimmy Brennan was weak, and Jimmy Brennan was scared. And there was nothing he could do.

A half hour later, Jimmy picked up his bag and began to walk.


[[Jimmy Brennan continues in Final Third Foul ]]
Edited by Little Boy, Dec 1 2010, 09:06 PM.
V5
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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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