The Fight (My Deathwish)

[Clicks]

Before You Begin: This is a short story, I have no plans for this story to go any longer than 3 posts. It is however designed to entertain, it is written from the mindframe of the average student. I have written it to capture your attention. So read and enjoy. Any comments or critiscm is both welcome and encouraged.
-Clicks
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The Fight (My Deathwish)
"Hey Punk!"
"Punk? Who you callin' punk?"
"The punk behind you, idiot"
"Idiot? Who you callin' idiot?"
"You, you idiot."
"Idiot? Oooh, you think your cool, don't ya?"
"Cooler than you, punk."
"Yeah? Well you know what, I reckon your wrong."
"Wow- you know what I reckon."
"Enlighten me."
"I reckon that your an idiot, punk."
"That's it, lets go."
"Go where?"
"Go to the park. After school. We'll see who's the punk then."
"And if I refuse."
"Then that just proves my point."
"What point?"
"My point, that you're a sissy."
"Fine- i'll see you at the park. Punk."
"I can't wait"

That was it. Those were the words that had sealed the deal. I had challenged the school bully to a fight. What was I thinking? I'm not too sure. Whatever I was thinking, it was a stupid thought. Well, a stupid death wish.

And then, what do you know- it was already recess and half the school was whispering, shooting glances at me from different sides of the cafeteria. Some smiled and wished me good luck, others sat down and gave me tips on how to beat the man-monster, one kid gave me the phone number of the local morgue- I was afraid, to say the least.

So I continued on my day, listened in class, answered questions, wrote my will, just the usual stuff. When the bell ending fourth period rang, it was of no surprise to me that the whole school knew of my impending doom. I sat down at my usual table for lunch, I felt faint. I chanced a glimpse at the beast that would decide my life, surrounded by his usual ogres, he was sitting only three table up. I gulped as loud as a cement mixer, suddenly, my lunch lunch didn't look as enticing.

And then the miracle came into play. Just as I was beginning to perspirate in a fashion that would match the falls of Niagara, Vince Herald sat by me. I checked above me for a beam of light, well, more like a puddle of sweat. I was saved! Okay. I'm gathering that you're not gaining the same waves of relief I was feeling, so I will expand on this. Vince Herald, was, and most likely still is, the world best fighter. Well, maybe not in the world, but in our state, noone could match him. School bullies feared his name, hell- Skeletor probably feared this guy. And he was sitting, BESIDES ME, I gave a loud cough, the bully I had feared less than moments ago glanced across the noisy hall. First at me, then at Vince, then at me, then at Vince, it was all rather humorous from my perspective- like when someone trips over a cordless phone and cracks their head on a helmet, you know- irony.

Well, anyway, Vince was sitting besides me, I turned and looked towards him, his dark hair hung loosely about his fearless grey eyes. I opened my mouth but he interceded (Wow- I used interceded in a sentence, wait 'till i tell mum!)
"Good luck, buddy" He smiled, leaning over to pat me on the back, "Show that oversized ape who's boss". He stood up, gave me a nod and walked off. My heart- which had previously rested up near my nasal passage dropped like an alcoholic politician, settling to rest somewhere between the kneecap and ankle of my left leg. To sum up my thoughts over the next five minutes in three words, I would select: "I am dead". Oh, the optimist that is I.

Well, the rest of school passed in a blur. A blur of farewells and questions about my funeral, things were looking up, in a negative sort of pessimistic way. Well, things could be worse...No, actually, I don't think they could be, not at this point in time anyway.
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-Clicks

[Flak]

Dooooooood, this is one helluva story. Sure, it's short, but it's extremely entertaining, and while there are several errors (no doubt accidental) it's very well written in my opinion. I like your similies and metaphors.


comments or critiscm is both
the world best fighter.
only three table up.

Try and proofread more carefully, that's all.

one kid gave me the phone number of the local morgue
gulped as loud as a cement mixer
dropped like an alcoholic politician

Keep it up! I look forward to the rest of this. I have a question though; is this based off reality?

[Clicks]

Before You Begin: Thanks Flak for the reply, it is always nice to have one work appreciated. About your advice onto proofreading, well, i've always found myself to be a poor proofreader, I have a horrible habit of forming the words that aren't there subconciously, so, under those circumstance, I beg your apologies for any minor errors you may encounter. I hope you enjoy the second post of this story (i know it seems a little short but I like it)- it is the windup before the final.
-Clicks
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The Fight (My Deathwish) Post Second

Well, as it turns out, things could be worse. Maybe it was just reality trying to make a liar out of me or maybe I had broken one to many mirrors on the back of one to many black cats, either way, today was not my day.

So, the bell signaling home-time rang and instantly the whole class turns to look at me, similtaniously, (they must've rehearsed this). I look up into each one of their expectant little faces and shrugged. Now, i'm not too sure about anyone else, but putting things into context, that shrug took me a hell of alot of effort, infact, i'm pretty sure that if someone had asked me to do it again, I would've been forced to decline the request. I'm not weak, just scared to death.

And the class files out, some hang back to look at my living body one last time but eventually, I am left alone. What a predicament I am in now, I can either show up and get pounded to a meaty pulp, not unlike the mince stuff you use in party-pies, or I can run away and be labeled a chicken. Either way, people are going to see me as some type of meat-product. Or maybe i'm just hungry. Well, i'd rather be mince-meat than chicken, so I stand up- my legs feel like jelly but I manage to maintain some balance. I bend down and halfheartedly pack my books into my bag, thinking what good my notes will be when i'm a corpse, I shuffle slowly to the door and off to the park.

For those who are into the dramatics, now would be a suitable time to play the funeral march tune, it was half-past three, I was already fifteen minutes late, but it didn't matter to me, I was trying to prolong my life for as much time as I could. I walked slowly down the main pathway, the park was lush and fertile, the spring rains had revitalised the vegetation and the grass was greener than lime cordial.

Ten or so feet from the parks barbecue area was huddled a loose circle, by appearance alone, I could tell they were calling for me- I couldn't hear them of course, my heartbeats thunderous booms had my sense of hearing quite occupied, but the undeniable encouragement of the crowd was unavoidable. They ushered me into the centre of their circle (more like a deformed oval, but what can you do?) and my worst fears were realized.
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-Clicks

[varulf]

I can either show up and get pounded to a meaty pulp, not unlike the mince stuff you use in party-pies, or I can run away and be labeled a chicken. Either way, people are going to see me as some type of meat-product. Or maybe i'm just hungry.

lol

I love short stories. Keep the good work up!

[Inquisistor7]

This story is good, nay it is excellent. The end of each segment leaves me ravenous for more.

[Flak]

It's a pity there will only be one more post. Seriously. Consolidate the first three posts into one big intro chapter, and this would make one kickass story (unless of course the speaker dies).

[Clicks]

Before You Begin: So here is the final post, I hope you enjoy it. First though, i'd like to give a thankyou to all the readers of this short story and especially to those who replied, namely Flak, Inquisistor7 and Varulf. Also, in reply to Flaks remarks, I would like to write a longer story but I know for a fact that I will dig myself into a hole and will leave it unfinished. Also, in reply to your earlier question. No. This story is not based on an actual personal account though I have taken tidbits from different experiences. As usual, any comments are welcome and thanks again for reading
-Clicks
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The Fight (My Deathwish) Post Third
Now, if I was following a script, it is around about now that I would have discovered some astonishing revelation that would allow me to overpower the bully before me, and so win the respect of my class members, and more importantly, the school beauty queen. Hell, I don't care for respect, I would've settled for maintaining my heartbeat. Fat chance.

The school bully gave a mighty roar in his native jock tongue (roar, growl, roar) and dived at me. I could feel the adrenaline rush start pumping. My mind was telling me to run, my heart was telling me to stay, my stomach was telling me to eat. I was confused, to say the least. Of course, I could've followed all three of my vital organs advice and charged at the bully in an attempt to swallow him- but that would have led to my sudden and rather mediocre departure from existence. I held my ground.

Holding my ground, however, turned out to be another mistake. The gargantuan fist of the man-monster loomed close as he knocked me flat with a thundering left swing. I hit the ground with a dull thud. He bent down over me and grinned. Ugh. Now, i've seen some ugly mugs in my short life, but this guy is nothing short of an eyesore. He puts the 'bull' in 'bully', literally. So, he's giving me something that he must've thought was a winning grin (looked more like a melted wax mask) and a thought popped into my dazing mind. "Hit him", it said. I considered the thought for a moment. His guard was down, I was in perfect position to bop him one in that fat face of his. It was perfect. So what did I do? I raised a fist and with all the strength I could muster, and threw it in his direction.

I was close to setting the record for 'most stupid mistakes made in one day'. It turned out that his 'winning grin' was actually supposed to be an intimidating glare. I didn't know, when your as ugly as that kid, every face looks the same. So I swing a mighty fist at him and he grabs me, somewhere between my wrist and my elbow, and does some complicated jiggling movement. Next thing I know, i'm flat on my back. Winded. "Hit him!" Says that same stupid voice who had spoken to me earlier. Pffft. Fat chance. I shut that reckless section of my brain off and set to work in forming a plan based on every karate movie I had ever seen.

The bully turned around and took a step towards me. He mumbled something in jock-ish (roughly translated I think he was saying 'had enough?') and arranged his face in some type of deformed smile. Showtime. I slid on the ground and kicked my legs out, my well-worn boots made solid contact with the beasts shins. He was swept off his feet- not in a 'lovey-dovey' fashion, but in a 'face plant' sort of way. The earth shook as he collided with the soft park soil. We were both on the ground, but I was a step ahead. I jumped to my feet and gave him a quick boot to the back. He roared some kind of muffled curse and I heeded the brilliant advice of my brain, heart and stomach. Run!

I burst out through the circle of onlookers. They called me back in snide tones. No thanks- I choose life. I continued running. I didn't care for their jeers and boos (which followed me out of the park)- I was running to live.

And what a sprint it turned out to be. Over three city blocks at full pace, I could've made the Olympics. No doubt that tomorrow would surely be the end of me, but honestly, I was just glad to be breathing. I opened the door and stepped into the familiar hallway of my house.

"Welcome home, honey" Mum called from the kitchen.

"Hi Mum." I called back.

She walked down the hall from the back of the house and helped me take off my coat.

"Have a nice day?" She asked from the cupboard as she set to the task of hanging my jacket on the rack.

"Yeah, I suppose I did. Better than yesterday, anyway".

"Well that's good" She smiled.

"Yeah, anyway Mum, i'm going to go and have a lie down, i'm pretty tired."

"Okay darling", she said, nodding, "I'll call you when dinner's ready."

"Okay, thanks Mum." I called, from the stairs. She gave me a fleeting smile and returned to the kitchen. I walked up to my room and shut the door. Making sure I was alone, I removed my diary from the upper shelf of my cupboard and sat it down at my study-table. Opening the leather bound book to its next free page I began to write:

Hey Punk!"
"Punk? Who you callin' punk?"
"The punk behind you, idiot"
"Idiot? Who you callin' idiot?"
"You, you idiot."
"Idiot? Oooh, you think your cool, don't ya?"
"Cooler than you, punk."
"Yeah? Well you know what, I reckon your wrong."
"Wow- you know what I reckon."
"Enlighten me."
"I reckon that your an idiot, punk."
"That's it, lets go."
"Go where?"
"Go to the park. After school. We'll see who's the punk then."
"And if I refuse."
"Then that just proves my point."
"What point?"
"My point, that you're a sissy."
"Fine- i'll see you at the park. Punk."
"I can't wait"

That was it. Those were the words that had sealed the deal. I had challenged the school bully to a fight. What was I thinking? I'm not too sure. Whatever I was thinking, it was a stupid thought. Well, a stupid death wish.
The End
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-Clicks

[Flak]

The writing style is still good, but there were noticeably more mistakes this time, and I personally don't like how it ended.

Well, it was a good story. Thanks for sharing.