Categories > Original > Romance > LoveShine
The day continued on for Brandon. Through almost every class he was pulled out just as he got to have free-time.
“Principal Kris sent me for a… Brandon Mitchell??” Ocean would say as she looked at her books (as if there really even was a paper she was reading from). By about fifth period he’d gotten the directions to The Sanctuary down pat. However, he still didn’t even know where the Principal’s office was!
So here he was, a slender young man trudging up Dead-Man’s Ridge. Solitude, sometimes it could be a beautiful thing. But not for the imaginative mind of this particular boy. No, he imagined a teenage boy, his friends all taunting him. “Go on!” “I’ll race ya!” after the countdown the boy speeding down the gravel alone, a fishtail, tire skids, the breaks have been cut, a simple prank gone all wrong… death.
Quickly he snapped back into reality as he approached the large house his dad and step-mom bought. Hopefully the Big-Bad-Wolf wouldn’t try to blow their house down, for it would surely fall.
He entered the door to see a fully furnished living room, quite big but nothing fancy, and everything had been put into place. ‘Looks like Kelly’s been busy…’ He thought.
Escalating the stairs was terribly horrible on his already throbbing legs. He assumed that his room was unpacked as well, however the only thing that was unpacked was the bed he’d unpacked the night before.
“Oh, hunny! I didn’t unpack your things! I hope you don’t mind! I didn’t know where you wanted to put it all!” Screamed the voice of a woman around twenty-three years in age. Form the sound of it, it seemed like she had just come up from the basement.
“Okay…Thanks Kelly!” He replied, a hint of sarcasm on his face. He went to work.
A bed in one corner, closet in other, a TV. With a playstation2, DVD player and two blue bean-bag chairs were set up around the room. On the wall was a shelf with books filling it to capacity and a picture of a female around twenty-nine. She had hazel eyes and long chocolate-brown hair.
By now it was dinner time and Kelly stood at the bottom of the stairs in faded blue jeans, a pink t-shirt and a white apron, yelling for him to come down.
He sat at the table next to his dad and looked her up and down as she shuffled around the kitchen. She had long blond hair and green eyes with a wide smile and perfect teeth. Why would she go for a guy like his dad? A balding man in his late thirties with a salt and pepper mustache and a beer belly?
Well, then again, back when they married she was eighteen and he was a successful business owner with a full head of this black hair. It’s been five years and she still sticks around. That’s an accomplishment!
They ate most of their dinner in silence. However, good ol’ Kelly had to break it with the All-American question.
“How was your first day at school?” She asked happily.
How should he respond? Boring? We didn’t really do anything? I was kidnapped about six times today? I’m slowly being dragged into a life of crime?
“Fine.” He replied, taking a drink of his green tea.
“Well, that’s good. Did you make any friends?” She inquired.
He felt like saying: “Yes! Yes I did! Against my will I’ve suddenly been added to a group of insane control-freak women and cross-dressers!”
But what he really said was: “Sort of. Kind of soon to tell, don’t ya think?”
“Very true.” His father butt in.
“Well, I’m going to go upstairs. Call me if you need me.” Brandon added as he took his drink and went up the stairs.
Flopping on to his bed he stared out his skylight for about twenty minutes. Finally he decided to take out his metallic green laptop.
Myspace, the “must have” of the internet. Most people have somewhere around ten friends at least. Brandon had a grand total of five: Kelly, A teacher from his old school, Tom (no, he didn’t delete Tom), His Grandpa who lived in Florida, and Leeah, his girlfriend from back home. And she was online.
He attempted to send her a message but before he even got the chance a little box came up in the corner of the screen. “New Mail Message.” He smiled in excitement. Someone who actually knows and loves him.
He opened the e-mail.
“Principal Kris sent me for a… Brandon Mitchell??” Ocean would say as she looked at her books (as if there really even was a paper she was reading from). By about fifth period he’d gotten the directions to The Sanctuary down pat. However, he still didn’t even know where the Principal’s office was!
So here he was, a slender young man trudging up Dead-Man’s Ridge. Solitude, sometimes it could be a beautiful thing. But not for the imaginative mind of this particular boy. No, he imagined a teenage boy, his friends all taunting him. “Go on!” “I’ll race ya!” after the countdown the boy speeding down the gravel alone, a fishtail, tire skids, the breaks have been cut, a simple prank gone all wrong… death.
Quickly he snapped back into reality as he approached the large house his dad and step-mom bought. Hopefully the Big-Bad-Wolf wouldn’t try to blow their house down, for it would surely fall.
He entered the door to see a fully furnished living room, quite big but nothing fancy, and everything had been put into place. ‘Looks like Kelly’s been busy…’ He thought.
Escalating the stairs was terribly horrible on his already throbbing legs. He assumed that his room was unpacked as well, however the only thing that was unpacked was the bed he’d unpacked the night before.
“Oh, hunny! I didn’t unpack your things! I hope you don’t mind! I didn’t know where you wanted to put it all!” Screamed the voice of a woman around twenty-three years in age. Form the sound of it, it seemed like she had just come up from the basement.
“Okay…Thanks Kelly!” He replied, a hint of sarcasm on his face. He went to work.
A bed in one corner, closet in other, a TV. With a playstation2, DVD player and two blue bean-bag chairs were set up around the room. On the wall was a shelf with books filling it to capacity and a picture of a female around twenty-nine. She had hazel eyes and long chocolate-brown hair.
By now it was dinner time and Kelly stood at the bottom of the stairs in faded blue jeans, a pink t-shirt and a white apron, yelling for him to come down.
He sat at the table next to his dad and looked her up and down as she shuffled around the kitchen. She had long blond hair and green eyes with a wide smile and perfect teeth. Why would she go for a guy like his dad? A balding man in his late thirties with a salt and pepper mustache and a beer belly?
Well, then again, back when they married she was eighteen and he was a successful business owner with a full head of this black hair. It’s been five years and she still sticks around. That’s an accomplishment!
They ate most of their dinner in silence. However, good ol’ Kelly had to break it with the All-American question.
“How was your first day at school?” She asked happily.
How should he respond? Boring? We didn’t really do anything? I was kidnapped about six times today? I’m slowly being dragged into a life of crime?
“Fine.” He replied, taking a drink of his green tea.
“Well, that’s good. Did you make any friends?” She inquired.
He felt like saying: “Yes! Yes I did! Against my will I’ve suddenly been added to a group of insane control-freak women and cross-dressers!”
But what he really said was: “Sort of. Kind of soon to tell, don’t ya think?”
“Very true.” His father butt in.
“Well, I’m going to go upstairs. Call me if you need me.” Brandon added as he took his drink and went up the stairs.
Flopping on to his bed he stared out his skylight for about twenty minutes. Finally he decided to take out his metallic green laptop.
Myspace, the “must have” of the internet. Most people have somewhere around ten friends at least. Brandon had a grand total of five: Kelly, A teacher from his old school, Tom (no, he didn’t delete Tom), His Grandpa who lived in Florida, and Leeah, his girlfriend from back home. And she was online.
He attempted to send her a message but before he even got the chance a little box came up in the corner of the screen. “New Mail Message.” He smiled in excitement. Someone who actually knows and loves him.
He opened the e-mail.
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