James Stone

I leaned on the boat's edge. I saw all the kids here. I saw some girls chatting excitedly, and only one other guy. He looked kind of like the guy that wasn't afraid to walk up to some girl that he barely knew and ask her out. High confidence.

My nose wrinkled in distaste. I looked at the clouds looming over the horizon and wondered just how long it would take them to get to us. Because if there was one thing I knew, I was a magnet for disaster.

I winced at the thought, remembering the night that my best friend, Jacob, and my brother, Danny, had died. A shiver ran up my spine. I was the only one that had not lost his life in that crash. The idiot drunk driver that had hit us had died, too, along with a 18 year-old guy that had been walking across the street when the crash had happened.

The thoughts made me so angry I wanted to hit something.

Shaking my head to clear it all, I noticed that the kids were pointing to the storm clouds with great intrest, but the counselor just laughed, as if they wouldn't reach us on this trip.

You're in for a rude awakening, buddy, I thought, When I'm around, trouble strikes.

I looked back at the sea, absent-mindly running my long pale fingers along the edge of the boat. I looked around, trying to find pictures in clouds like I did when I was little. But ever since the crash, my creativity seemed to have gone with Jacob and Danny's lives.

I was looking around at the kids here again. They seemed to be staring at me. Well, at least that's what it felt like. I was used to being alone. I was the kid that never talked unless someone talked to him first. The mysterious kid. The outsider.

But the pain of loss was afresh now. I'd always been okay with being alone, but now it felt uncomfortable. I felt the urge to do something stupid and crazy, but I decided against it.

I looked back at the approaching storm, realizing that I could see a picture in the clouds. A face. My brother's face, smiling at me.

The End

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