I click on the pencil's eraser, sending lead out of the tip. I steal a quick glance at the whiteboard, then sip my water sending cold liquid down my throat and a pleasurable shock through my senses. I have a book in front of me, but I don't care to notice it. I'm more focused on the clock ticking closer and closer to 3:00. I jot down some mundane details about the book I was supposed to read in my notebook given to me. I'm Atticus. normal dude who's super passionate about theatre. I mean, I'm at a theatre school for goodness sake. My parents aren't rich to say the least, so I'm super thankful to be able to go to this school. People think of me as a funny, outgoing and bright person. I don't think of myself too highly, so that's a nice change. Shooting out of my thoughts, the loud bell rang, sending a flock of people out of the classroom.
I now sit at my desk up in my room, taking my ukulele out and strumming a little tune.
"I think that's okay...I'm happy, that's great, I'm feelin' good..urgh.. I'm- ugh.. Songs are hard, really hard."
I had been working on this one tune of mine for around a week now, and I've been stuck on the lyrics for ages. I instead decided to play one of my favourite songs.
"I'm gettin' jiggy with a rifle, I pull the trigger with my eyes closed, hoping to hit you somewhere vital, and when I miss you come and kiss me with a smile."
I felt at peace..for once. I sit on my bed and put my ukulele
I check the time. 9:01.
"Oh, crap.. I gotta sleep.
So I slip out of my shirt and boxers and get in some sweats and a sweater. I snuggle up to my cat, Arlo, and drift sweetly off to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Star Boy
Non-FictionAtticus, a boy who loves theatre and strives to reach for the stars is casted in a show that he loves and he works through the troubles of failed relationships and stress of balancing theatre and other occupations. Who knows what'll happen with his...
