Warning! Some of the story's content may seem too mature or children. Only readers 13 years and up are suitable to continue.Edit
The following story chronicles the life of a troubled youth living in the Bronx, New York. He lives with his parents and longs to fill that certain void in his life. His parents want to help but he would rather do things on his own. He chooses to live as a secluded teen, trying to stay in the background. The story is fictional, but with realistic concepts.
In the ShadowEdit
Darrell sat on the bench by the basketball court. The cool breeze of the evening air gave him chills. The neighborhood lamps illuminated everything with a dull orange. He shivered and regretted not getting his camo jacket. But he was so anxious that he left the house in a rush. Darrell laid back and watched the sky turn from indigo to black. The stars brightened everyhing and he felt an errie presence and' shot up out of his seat. He thought a hand touched his shoulder. His breathing was awkward and his heart raced. Darrell tried to calm down but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was there. Watching him. He peered over the bench and saw a shadow heading towards him. He fell back and scrambled across the concrete. His back was against the court's fencing and he was panting terribly. The figure had a hand in its trench coat. When it came out, the person's fingers gripped something that glinted with cold metal. Darrell gasped and the 'shadowy person ran up to him. His finger constricted the trigger and slowly pulled back. Darrell stared into the barrel and saw a small tunnel that was about to provoke his death. He closed his eyes and 'heard a bang!
Darrell woke up and heaved air into his lungs. He was in a cold sweat and his pillow was drenched. His alarm clock buzzed and he punched the snooze button. Before he could try to go back to sleep, his mother came in. She held a basket in one hand and picked up clothes with the other. His clothes littered his room and she only gave him a disappointed look. Her hair was clumped in a mess and she had no makeup on. "C'mon boy, you gotta wake up to make it to school." Darrell grunted but she kept pushing him until he gave in. She walked away with the clothes and closed the door with a smile. Darrell shook his head and got dressed. He dreaded school. It was his prison, a place of torment. As he reached the school's campus, he noticed girls pointing and laughing. He sighed and kept walking, but faster. It took all his strength not to look back.
After 4 boring periods of class, Darrell headed to the cafeteria for lunch. On his way through a hall, he noticed a small, slim boy fall down as he shoved the door open. Through it's glass window, Darrell noticed a tall, muscular boy running directly towards him. He charged like a bull, his eyes wild. They small boy on the floor looked terrified, trying to get to his feet. He had brown, sandy hair and pale skin. His eyes were bloodshot and he held twenty dollars in his hand. The large kid bust through the door and his sight targeted the little boy. Darrell blocked his way. He was frightened but would rather not stand and watch. He didn't know what came over him, but it was encouraging. "Out of my way!", the big kid gritted through his teeth. "Francis, please!", the small kid whimpered. Francis grabbed Darrell, lifted him up and tossed him in a locker. He was claustrophobic and trembled in the little space he had. He shrieked and begged for help. Through the locker's tiny opening, he saw Francis dragging the screaming boy away. Darrell was left alone yelping, tears streaming down his face. At one point he felt like a fish out of water. It was like he was drowning. Sweat beaded his forehead and stained his shirt as he thrashed around, waiting for the help that wouldn't come.