Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco
Maybe I Should... But I Won't.
2 reviewsChildhood friends learn that they can't just remain friends anymore. //Rydon//
0Unrated
I was born into a family of poverty, of sorts. I was seven years old and my father decided to take me out to teach me how to fish. He quoted the bible ‘Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.’ I never really fancied fishing. It wasn’t really something that piqued my interest as a kid. But he was my father and he knew the best for me.
Having been seven years old, I figured that the answer to life was within my father. He was wise and he knew everything. There wasn’t anything in the world that he couldn’t answer for me. I was naïve, though, to think that this was truth. I couldn’t actually rely on my father for everything. But I did until the day he died.
We were out fishing as we had done so many times when I was young. I saw a boy across the river. He was waving at us, so I waved back. My father smacked my arm down, telling me not to wave at strangers. The boy could hurt me if I wasn’t safe. But when he saw that my dad was scolding me, he jumped into the river. I jumped up. That couldn’t be good! What if he drowned? I turned to my dad, yelling that we had to help.
Aggravated by my constant begging to save the boy, my father rowed over to where the boy had jumped into the water. He didn’t seem to be able to swim. As my father cursed at me for making him come over there, I jumped in after the boy to help him. I had learned how to swim as a young’un because of my mother. So I would be alright. I knew this. So I grabbed him and pulled him to the shore. He wasn’t breathing. I turned to my father and yelled at him to help, to do anything.
So he came over and felt around his neck and his heart. He looked at me as if there was nothing he could do. But dammit, I’d save this boy. I didn’t know why I wanted to, but I felt a connection to him. If I didn’t save him, it would be my fault that he died. So I started CPR on him. I breathed into his mouth and pumped his lungs until I couldn’t do it anymore. After about half a minute, I had started to cry. I didn’t want him to die.
When I finally gave up, I sat back on my haunches and stared at him. I willed for him to wake up, despite knowing the odds. Just as I turned to my dad, I heard coughing. I turned back to the boy and he had rolled over and was coughing water out of his lungs and onto the ground. I rushed over and rubbed at his back until he wasn’t coughing anymore. When he was done, I laughed and said “You know, you really shouldn’t go into the water if you can’t swim,” and he smiled. That’s how I met Brendon Urie.
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A/N: I wanted to apologize profusely for disappearing. School got me bad. Plus I'm sick right now. But I wrote this on my way to visiting my mom up north last night, so... yeah, here it is. I really just haven't had the motivation to write my other stories. And I've tried. I've even been trying to write Last Resort (which was the most exciting for me) but I can't... do it, I guess. Anyway, I'm so sorry. I'll try harder, I promise. Finals are coming up though. So after that, hopefully, I'll be able to write more. But here's your Thanksgiving gift, I guess. Enjoy? Please rate and review. Don't hate me!
Having been seven years old, I figured that the answer to life was within my father. He was wise and he knew everything. There wasn’t anything in the world that he couldn’t answer for me. I was naïve, though, to think that this was truth. I couldn’t actually rely on my father for everything. But I did until the day he died.
We were out fishing as we had done so many times when I was young. I saw a boy across the river. He was waving at us, so I waved back. My father smacked my arm down, telling me not to wave at strangers. The boy could hurt me if I wasn’t safe. But when he saw that my dad was scolding me, he jumped into the river. I jumped up. That couldn’t be good! What if he drowned? I turned to my dad, yelling that we had to help.
Aggravated by my constant begging to save the boy, my father rowed over to where the boy had jumped into the water. He didn’t seem to be able to swim. As my father cursed at me for making him come over there, I jumped in after the boy to help him. I had learned how to swim as a young’un because of my mother. So I would be alright. I knew this. So I grabbed him and pulled him to the shore. He wasn’t breathing. I turned to my father and yelled at him to help, to do anything.
So he came over and felt around his neck and his heart. He looked at me as if there was nothing he could do. But dammit, I’d save this boy. I didn’t know why I wanted to, but I felt a connection to him. If I didn’t save him, it would be my fault that he died. So I started CPR on him. I breathed into his mouth and pumped his lungs until I couldn’t do it anymore. After about half a minute, I had started to cry. I didn’t want him to die.
When I finally gave up, I sat back on my haunches and stared at him. I willed for him to wake up, despite knowing the odds. Just as I turned to my dad, I heard coughing. I turned back to the boy and he had rolled over and was coughing water out of his lungs and onto the ground. I rushed over and rubbed at his back until he wasn’t coughing anymore. When he was done, I laughed and said “You know, you really shouldn’t go into the water if you can’t swim,” and he smiled. That’s how I met Brendon Urie.
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A/N: I wanted to apologize profusely for disappearing. School got me bad. Plus I'm sick right now. But I wrote this on my way to visiting my mom up north last night, so... yeah, here it is. I really just haven't had the motivation to write my other stories. And I've tried. I've even been trying to write Last Resort (which was the most exciting for me) but I can't... do it, I guess. Anyway, I'm so sorry. I'll try harder, I promise. Finals are coming up though. So after that, hopefully, I'll be able to write more. But here's your Thanksgiving gift, I guess. Enjoy? Please rate and review. Don't hate me!
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