You Got To Have Guts, To Survive In The Wilderness

[sandtiger]

Okay, something I thought up, like, or don't like? Critique? Good or Bad?

You Got To Have Guts, To Survive In The Wilderness

I had stepped softly between the thick bramble bushes, carefully, and trying my best not to let my muffled cries of pain escape then and there. And I sat down, moving into an Indian style sitting position. (Criss cross apple sauce as they had put it in kindergarten, ah, the memories) I had sat, in that ol’ autumn forest, leaves crunching as I shifted my legs many times to pull those things out. Did it take time? Oh yes, yes it did, many hours in fact, all of that pain, sorrow and tomfoolery, all because of a dare. And that then, wasn’t even the worst of it. I spent a good, full, two to five months in that evil…evil…forest trying to survive, get out and so, so much more. You wish to know what that dare was, and who dared me, me the great Drake Tom Billison? The most popular kid in school at that very time, who was popular with all, the whole Richardson Town High School? Well, I’ll tell you then, but only if you promise, never, ever, to tell them I told you, and if you tell someone else, tell that person to tell them that you never told that person. You ready? I know you’re ready. So stand up, don’t even bother sitting down, because when you hear this you’ll be standing up anyway. Good. Let us begin our tale, here, at my first day at Richardson Town High School.

I was a freshman that year, ninth grade, blah, blah, blah. I got the point, knew I was the squirt and underdog at this supposedly gangster filled school (That is, if you actually read the tabloids), but I still thought I’d win it all that first day, thought I’d was the best. My first day attire was simple, nothing classy, like some idiots thought was ‘appropriate’. I was wearing patched up navy blue jeans I had worn since eighth, no seventh grade. They were a bit small, but my shirt was better fitted, a simple t-shirt that had the Beatles in the front of it. You see, I had liked the Beatles for ages since age six, when I heard there first song in music class. But at ninth grade it seemed a bit, well, stupid. So I ditched that shirt the next day. But anyway I stopped at my new locker, 164. I muttered to myself about who stupid school was and how I should be out doing something more worth my time, but then…

“Hey Drake, my man! What y’ up too?”- An unmistakable male voice ring through the air around me. You know that one kid who always follows you around or others around and like stalks them? And tries to chatter up the most boring stuff in the world, or the most insane stuff in the world? Like an annoying, pesky mosquito on a hot summer day? This is what this guy was, Jerry Valitz. But unfortunately, unlike a mosquito, I couldn’t slap the little booger to leave me alone, doing that would get me suspended a good three days, and as much as a person I already was, my parents would kill me if I got suspended on my first day.
“What Jerry? Can’t you see I’m doing something here?”- I questioned, a bit sarcastically towards Jerry. If there was one person I could not stand, it was him. He didn’t follow the pretty cheerleaders, unlike most other boys in the school, or even back at Middle School. He followed me. And for some ungodly reason, no one knew why. Jerry was a stout, short kid, even in Elementary School, he was among the shortest in his class. He was the shortest boy in his class, three years in a row. The second shortest boy, Gregory, or just Greg, seemed to tower over him at about 3 inches taller than him. But Gregory moved in sixth grade, so that made Jerry look even shorter compared to other supposedly short kids. Besides that, he had big, bug eyed black glasses, dark as night brown eyes, and shaggy, almost untamable dirty blond hair. He was wearing a solid scarlet red t-shirt and gray khakis.

“Oh, come on dude! Can’t we like, hang out sometime, you never except my invitations, you know!” –He prodded, almost in a whiny tone like that of a two year old. Ugh.
“No Jerry, we’ve been over this before, and why do you follow me anyway? Huh? Like a stalker?”
“But come on! Just please, I’ll show you I can be a great guy!”
“I said no Jerry, and that’s the end of it! Now go away!”
“Drake, you know you want too, you’re just being stuck up, trying to get popular like that, doesn’t work like that dude, you know that!”
“What?”

That made me snap, the popular part and being stuck up. I was not stuck up, thank you. I turned to him with a harsh look, my hurt ego hidden behind a facade of coldness to this, this, this loser. What did I just think? Loser? As much as Jerry stalked me, I never called him, no thought of him as a Loser. But still, at the time, my short temper had been broken, my patience tested for far too long, I punched him square in the jaw, a classic uppercut. He fell back, pain searing from his mutilated chin. A split second in my head I never thought I’d been that strong, but then I was snapped out of my reverie by Jerry...

What do you think?

[wolfgirl159357]

FANTASTICAL!!!!!!!!