Hey, I made a story that's like this back in seventh grade. I'm going to be in tenth grade this year. I'm sixteen years old. I'm working on the same type of story about a depressed teenager just going through life. This one has the main character more angry/negative than depressed, though.
I just wanted to know what some of you guys thought of the first chapter. Please don't just say it sucks! Tell me why it's bad and what I could work on. I want to be a writer some day, and I'm sure that some of the older GameSpot users could help me out with some parts.
Chapter 1 (First post)
Chapter 2 (First post)
Chapter 3 (http://www.gamespot.com/pages/forums/show_msgs.php?topic_id=26522241&msg_id=304215060#304215060)
Chapter 4 (http://www.gamespot.com/pages/forums/show_msgs.php?topic_id=26522241&msg_id=308720153#308720153)
So here it is:
"Everything You Wouldn't Want to Hear"
Chapter 1: Everything That Doesn't Matter
As I sat down in my chair next to my best friend that I wouldn't even consider a "friend" at all by the definition of the word, I began to wonder what my purpose in life was. I hated waking up at six in the morning every single day just so I could get to the end of the day where I don't do something that isn't completely boring as hell. It's not like what I do at home is anything exciting, but at least I get to do nothing and focus on something on nothing. That's probably the best part of my day.
I'm a Freshman in High School right now. I came from a little private school that was a lot better than the place I'm in now. I guess I took the times I had there for granted because I still complained about how much everything sucked in Grade School. I, however, did not think High School could be any worse. I was wrong.
So as I sat down in my chair, I still began to wonder about things. Like why the **** am I sitting in this ****ing chair and eating a **** sandwich when I don't want to? Why in the world am I sitting next to a kid I don't like? And what in God's name is that smell?
I can't really come up with answer for any of these questions, except the latter. See, there are weird people at my school that obviously do not care that they eating **** when they can be eating better food that is not ****.
Anyway, enough about me and my ****ing eating habits. I'll tell you something that should hold some significance, but really isn't because nobody gives a damn about me. My name is Josh. Joshua Zython Zammington if you want the full version. I'm fourteen years old, and I just started High School. As a new kid who didn't know or like anyone before even starting Freshman year, I've sort of just become a nobody... Someone you wouldn't give a damn about, or one of those quiet kids that no one even thinks about. That's who I am.
As you can see, I try not to act like myself in real life because myself sucks. I have to blend in with the rest of the idiots of the world so I can at least be accepted as normal or something stupid like that. I'm not sure why I care. Why it matters to me if I share my real thoughts about everything, but I guess it does.
And I as I sit here, I start to wonder when is everything just going to end? Honestly, there's nothing in the least bit that I'm looking forward to. I'm not pessimistic; I'm just realistic.
Now that I think about it, there is this one thing that's coming up that I should be excited for that everyone else is excited for that I have no interest in whatsoever. It's so stupid and lame that I don't even want to think about it, but I guess I have to tell you this because it might be important or something.
Homecoming. It's where all the jocks and cool kids ask the nasty, attractive girls and where the nobodies ask all the other girls that no one else wanted to go with. You see, I am a nobody, but I'm a different kind of nobody. I'm a smart nobody that can actually admit to myself that I am a nobody, and that no one cares about me. That's what separates me from every other idiotic nobody. They don't realize that themselves sucks and that they would be better off dead. Of course everyone would pretend they'd care if someone committed suicide, but people just play along so they can seem like a good person or something stupid like that.
The thing is that these kids don't realize that they are better off dead because no one has the balls to tell them to ****ing kill themselves now. I should turn to my friend and kill him myself, but I am too tired and lazy to do so right now. Maybe next time.
Anyway, I have no plans on asking an inferior being (female for short) to some Orgy of Love where everybody must foreplay because that apparently doesn't make them a whore. Why not just **** I mean, what's the point of talking to one of these beings if you aren't using them for ****ing purposes? The simple answer is that there is none.
Okay, enough about all the other stuff that doesn't matter. Let's move on to other stuff that also doesn't matter. I don't play sports, and have no interest in playing sports. As much fun as it is to have a coach yelling at me to not have fun and not enjoy myself for three hours every day in the hot, blazing sun, I just couldn't bring myself to play football. I mean, doing a bunch of drills that no one wants to do and getting yelled at for no reason does seem like a lot of fun and all, but there's plenty of better ways to spend my time. For example, doing absolutely nothing. That's one of my favorite things to do.
Oh... man... This sandwich really does taste like **** I put the sandwich on the table and folded my arms. I glanced at my friend who seemed to want to know if he could have my sandwich, but was too ****ing worried or something to ask if he could have it. Since I'm a nice guy and don't like ugly people staring at me (This explains why I never look at myself in the mirror.), I decided to say to him, "Go right the **** ahead."
It wasn't until later that I realized how ****ing hungry I was. I suppose my mother packed me a sandwich that doesn't taste good for a reason. But like the idiot I am, I decided not to eat it. I know I put myself above people and say I am not an idiot like them I have to admit that that isn't true. See, I'm a different kind of person, and I'm a different kind of idiot. I'm an idiot that occasionally does **** that ends up ****ing me right up the **** just because I don't think everything through properly.
At this point, my **** and teachings must be stopped so I can listen to my teacher yell at me for not paying attention to something I don't care about. "Do you know the answer, Josh?"
Yes, I do know the answer, but I don't care to give it to you. I have absolutely no purpose or intention of giving you this answer, so I won't. "No, I don't."
"You might've known that the answer was The War of 1812 if you were paying attention," my teacher told me.
Yes, like I give a **** if I know the answer or not. I knew the answer, but I didn't want to tell you. Why would I? There's no reason to it. If I gave you the answer, then what? Would you clap for joy that I know something useless in life that probably won't help me in any way, shape, or form? Listen, I know you're sad and miserable because the only fun you have in life is torturing us kids with your boring teachings, but please don't take it out on me when you can take it out on the idiot next to me.
On the plus side of things, it's Friday. I get to go home and do nothing again. Yippie! Thank God I'm not going to some boring football game that everyone else is going to. It's one of the biggest games this year because it's against our rival or something, and everybody has to go because it's so ****ing important. Thanks, but no thanks.
The bell rang and school ended. I set out to go home until some inferior being (female) approached me. She was in my way. I could easily turn to the right, or left if I was feeling dangerous, but instead jus stood there and said, "Can you please find a better place to stand? You're blocking the current area in which I plan to stand in next."
She exploded with laugher, so much so that I just felt awkward. I wasn't sure how to react to this. I guess she found my idiocy funny or something. I almost smiled, but then didn't when I realized there was no purpose in doing so.
When she finally was done laughing, she finally said to me, "You coming to the game now?"
"No, I would, but it sounds boring as hell and something I would rather not do," I replied.
"Oh, well, you should come. It's about to begin and everybody's going. Surely you can't be doing something that exciting when everyone else is here. You should come. It will be fun," she lied to me.
"I'll go next time, but I really can't today. I forgot to feed my cat," I told her. My nonexistent cat usually gets quite mad when I forget to feed him.
"Oh..." she started to say. She glared into my eyes for a second and then said, "Well, have fun."
I took it she didn't buy what I said, but I didn't care. Neither of us said bye. I just sort of walked on after that. Her name was Jane. Jane Dalk. She was in a few of my cl@sses, but she never really tried to talk to me until now. I have no idea why she would bother talking to someone as uninteresting and as ugly as me, but she did.
To be honest, I'm not one hundred percent sure I was glad I said no. Sure, the game doesn't interest in the least bit, but it could be something to do. I mean, I don't really have anything better to do, so I could... talk to her while I was there or something. It might not be completely boring.
Whatever. All I have now is a day full of nothing.
Chapter 2: Everything You'll Ever Need to Know About Nothing
My parents won't give me a ride home because they hate me and force me to walk thirty minutes all the way home. I live relatively close to the school if I drive there, but since I was walking on home on this crappy Friday, it would be away before I actually got home. Yes, I could ride my bike to school and back, I know, but my bike was stolen the first week of school because someone that obviously has no decency somehow managed to find out my combination to the bike-lock and then take away the bike without a care in the world.
I never told my parents about what happened, but I always assumed they figured it out when the realized it took me forever to get home and that I came home without a bike. They were always home, too. The just didn't feel like driving for five minutes to get to the school, and then five minutes back. The only possible reason I can think of why they would make me walk all the way home is that they probably don't give a **** about me. That's the conclusion I've come to believe, at least.
I was getting really tired of walking home all the time. This would be the tenth time doing so. I decided to take out my cellular phone and call my mother. I went through my four contacts (Home, Dad, Mom, and my best friend that isn't my friend that doesn't deserve to be called anything.) and clicked on my mom. The phone began to ring and after two rings, she picked up.
Before she could even talk I immediately jumped on her and said, "I'm sick of walking home all the time! Pick me up!"
"Sorry, dear. I'm having lunch with Mrs. Knelts right now. You'll have to wait an hour or so if you want me to pick you up. Your father is working late tonight," my mother informed me.
I hung up the phone. I could stay around at the football game and possibly talk to this Jane Dalk, or I could **** about walking home while I walked home. Both sounded like horrible ideas, but the latter actually sounded like a reasonable thing to do, so I went with that plan.
"Hey, can I borrow your phone?" asked some kid that I would never lend my phone to.
"No, I'm leaving right now, and I don't understand why I would wait around wasting time when I could be one more minute closer to my home if I don't give you my phone," I replied.
The kid stared at me for a second. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He then turned around, ignoring me and turned his attention to his friend to talk about something that is stupid and uninteresting.
I began my long journey home. Halfway through it, I got a phone call from that one kid that I hate but still call a friend. I wasn't sure if I should waste my time picking up the phone, but I was bored, so I did. "What do you want?" I demanded.
"Hey, Josh, man. What's up?" he asked me.
"I'm walking home. Quit the formal crap and just ask me the damn question they you want to ask me," I told him.
"Oh, well... I was just wondering if you wanted to go down to the theater to see a movie," he responded.
"No, I don't want to waste my valuable money that I don't spend on anything to see some stupid movie that will suck and not be funny. Explain to me why the hell I would want to do that," I said.
"I heard it's a pretty good movie, though. It's supposed to be really funny. I haven't seen a good flick in awhile, and this really caught my interest," he informed me.
"If you are talking about Step Brothers, then forget about it. I have no interest in seeing that garbage and I planned on doing something that isn't quite as boring as hell as that movie that doesn't involve you. Sorry," I said.
He hung up the phone without another word. I realize I'm mean to him, but that's only because he's so goddamn annoying. The only reason he calls me is because I'm his only friend that isn't really his friend, anyway. He's just trying to lead what people would refer to as a "normal" life, like all the other losers I know. The truth is that he is an idiot. He's an idiot because he doesn't realize that no one cares about him, and that he takes abuse from people that hate him just so he can at least feel better about himself when he tells himself every day that "he has friends." Except I'm not really his friend by the definition of the word, but still hang out with him when I feel like being an **** to someone that will take it. Isn't life so sad when you know people like that exist?
I took out my cellular phone again and deleted him from my contacts. I realized that I would never want to call him, anyway, so I just removed him permanently. I guess it's time to put a name to this idiot. His name is Danny, but I usually replace his name with an insult whenever I refer to him. He's just another person that tries to fit in, but fails epically at it. He plays football, and he's absolutely terrible about it. He's really tall, really ugly, and really slow. He isn't really fat, but you can tell he's out of shape just by looking at him. I wish the coach would just kick him off the team so he can feel bad about himself and realize that he does suck at life.
The coach of the football team asked me to join the team. Believe it or not, I'm extremely fast. I'm probably faster than everyone on the team, and I have a great build. I'm not the strongest, but I sure as hell can kick the living crap out of most kids on the team. I don't know how. The only time I ever work out is when the football team is in the weight room. I like to do this only to show the coach what he's missing. It humors me that he still comes up to me and asks me if I would like to play. I always tell him that I might play next here, but I'm just **** with him. I'd never play that stupid game, especially when our team is so terrible. I admit that the coach is a nice guy, but I still don't like him.
I continued walking home when I saw some kids from my Grade School playing catch with the football. I tried to walk past them, but they spotted me. There were four of them. It looked extremely boring. They were just throwing some ball in the air back and forth to each other, and making fun of each when they dropped the ball.
"Hey, hey! Josh, man!" called out Ricky. He tossed the football really hard, right at my chest. I caught the ball and then threw it back to Ricky. I continued to walk when he called out to him again. "Josh, I haven't seen you in forever! Let's play a game. Two on two. I'll be all time QB."
"No, I have to study for this big test coming up. Thanks, though. Maybe some other time," I replied. I tried to be nice to him, and didn't want to appear sarcastic, because I actually did like Ricky back in the day. He was good natured and all the girls loved him. He was sort of an **** back in the younger grades, but he became more mature once seventh grade came around. He always tried to include me in things, but I never really wanted to do anything with any of my ****ates. He goes to a different High School now, along with a bunch of other people that went to my Grade School. I think it's called Jefferson High School, or something like that. I attend Hathing High School. I don't know why it's called what it is, but I don't really care, either.
"Alright, man. Maybe next time." Ricky nodded and then threw the football to one of his buddies. I knew Ricky didn't buy what I said since it was Friday and all, and the fact that I never really showed I cared about my grades, ever, either.
After finally reaching my house, I thought about going back to play with them. I wasn't doing anything, so I could at least do something that isn't nothing for once. I thought about it, but then decided against it. I suddenly felt tired and wanted to go to sleep.
I walked up the steps and then tried to open the door. I shouted profanity when I realized it was locked and that my parents weren't home to open the door. I'd have to wait another half hour before I went inside.
I lied down on the porch and closed my eyes. I was trying to fall asleep, but I didn't. I looked at the sky and saw it was cloudy. It started to drizzle. Then it rained harder and harder. I didn't move. I just lied where I was and closed my eyes again.
After ten minutes or so, I saw Ricky and his buddies walk past my house. Ricky shouted out to me, "You a little wet?" When I didn't answer, he went on. "Josh, come over to my house. We're going to play some Wii and invite some Jefferson girls over." Ricky never referred to the inferior beings as anything other than "girls" or "ladies" when he was kidding around. He never talked about any of them in a derogatory manner and showed a lot of respect for them. He never talked about "getting **** or "banging some chicks." He never even talked about girls' appearances, even when they were around. He was a good looking guy himself, but he never looked for anything other than a nice girl. Looks didn't matter to him at all.
"Yeah, I guess I'll come," I said. My parents wouldn't be home for another twenty minutes, and I suddenly felt the urge to do something that isn't nothing for once.
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