Short stories

Goal!

The death of the kid sent shivers across the student body. A nobody. An outcast. A complete no one struck fear with each heart. The kids who bullied him. The boys who beat him. The girls who complained about him. But one heart stood true. This lonely red organ beat in a sea of dark ones. It only shook when if found out that it's lover is dead.

The teachers pretend to have not seen the signs: cutting class, not getting the usual good grades, consistently listening to music, the voice which was so perfect, mute. These so called helpers go on like nothing is wrong. But everyone is scared. Scared to admit they had killed someone.

The boys were always paranoid. The girls suspicious. The death mask always following them around. It was a Friday when it happened. The last beat of the heart-drum came and the breathe of the seirens lost all hope for these kids. They had met in the stadium, the game long over. They drugged him. They filled him up with pills and alcohol. They, themselves, drunk and high.

The boys tied him up and hung him from the goal. The girls laughed. The beat of a song blasted. They had won the game. Yet, there they stood defeated. Their glazed eyes watched as the kid struggled and choked. Tears falling off his face. Then quiet.

He was called Dead, also known as, Mark Fuller.

Thought of as a gay teenage boy.

Lover was Allen Finisher.