Obituaries, And Every Teenagers Hell

 

It was Lucas's job to go out and get the newspaper off of the front porch in the mornings. I wasn't going to let down his parents, since they were supposed to be mine now. Although I refused to think of them as so. I quickly put on a pair of jean and ruffled his wet hair and walked outside. 

I picked it up and placed it under my arm without looking at it any further. I plopped it down on the coffee table and went back to his tidy room to search for a shirt. I guess he wasn't that bad of a dresser, he had a few cool shirts. I found on that had a few stripes and had 'yeah, I'm straight' printed on the front. I found a nice gray jacket to go over it, and zipped it  up halfway. After eating some raison bran-which was all they had- I still had plenty of time. They didn't have cable so nothing was on the television. 

I looked down at the newspaper and decided I might as well pick it up. I missed Aaliya desperately so I figured I should hold the tradition of reading the obituaries. 

I looked through it quickly since I didn't really have much interest in even more people I didn't know. 

I stopped, at one name.

One name that was all too familiar. 

One name that proved that I wasn't dreaming. Even though it was the one thing I needed. 

Ian Oliver Soul, 1992-2009

Died outside the Jones's Shoe Shop. Killed by two armed men who robbed the Jones's store shortly after, with a pair of shoes in hand. Was taking the alley way to El Restaurant on December 17th with one female counterpart. This female was identified as Aaliya Joy, who was his date. Police report that they had stopped at Jones's to pick up a new pair of shoes after Aaliya's were drenched with water. The two men were attempting to steal the shoes after seeing the couple walk out of the store. Aaliya stopped by to inform us that she refused to give up her shoes, which was what caused the men to shoot. She tells us that the bullet was originally aimed towards her but Ian dove in front of her taking a hit to the chest. Funeral service is open to the public and will be held at Yoke's Funeral Home on December 26th. It will be an open casket ceremony, held from 3-5:30 with drinks and a meal. 

 

The last thing I expected was to see my own name in an obituary. I wondered if Aaliya has seen this yet. She probably felt so guilty. I felt my eyes water up, and I hid my face in my hands. I heard footsteps creep up next to me. A hand rested on my shoulder. I  lifted my head and looked over to see Juliet sitting next to me, a sorrowful and sympathetic look to her. 

"What's the matter brother?" She asked sweetly. She looked over my shoulder. "Who's Ian?" 

"Just someone I once knew," I explained through a lie. 

"Oh Lucas I'm so sorry," Juliet cried to me. She read it even more. "He died the night before you woke up." She looked up at me and I swallowed hard. "Are you going to the service?"

"Yeah," I chocked. "When I do, don't tell mom and dad."

"Why?"

"I don't want them to worry about me is all," I explained to her. I gave her a hug. She hugged me back gently. 

His high school was probably the most organized and civilized place ever to be set on this planet. Not like Ian, Ian was a rebel, a heartbreaker, a bone breaker. He was broken all to easily. My old hometown was either do or die. I didn't do too well, obviously. My school: tough, strong guys covered each end of the hallway; smaller, weaker, clumsier, completely lost kids came to school every day with a sorrowful soul and a few bruises; then the quiet, face in the shadows kids were ignored. I was one of them. I never hurt, I never thought of hurting, but I was sometimes mistaken for one. I only broke bones when they were aching to be broken. Never for my own good, but for someone else. 

The hallways were cleanly swept, the lockers polished, drinking fountains sparkled, smiles on everyones faces: besides poor old Lucas. 

"It's Lucas!" A few girls squealed. I was lost, dumbfound. 

Whispers fluttered around me as the girls closed me in as they circled around me. I looked around, both scared and kind of excited. There were like what? Twenty girls around me? What lost guy wouldn't be happy about that?

"He's back," They all cooed. 

They continued talking:

"Are you feeling better."

"We all missed you."

"Do you need me to carry your books for you?"

"Can you sit by me at lunch?"

Lucas, Lucas, Lucas. What a smooth cultured ladies man he was. "Shh, Shh, ladies settle," I spoke, in the smoothest voice I could pull off. "There's enough of Luke to go around."

They all giggled. I smiled weakly and one of the girls: Soft flowing blond hair, heart-shaped face, crisp blue eyes, gorgeous smile, and slim hour-glass figure, grabbed my arm.

"Well what's your name?" I asked her. 

She giggled, "Rachel." I smiled at her, and she smiled back. She was pushed aside by the other girls. She was soon lost in the crowd, and I was abandoned. 

"HEY!" A fat pot-bellied teacher bellowed out. "All of you get to class  before i write you all up."

Crap. Classes. I didn't even know what my classes were. All the girls muttered goodbye, and i was left in the hallway without any sense of direction.  

"Today after school," The teacher grumbled. 

 

The End

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