Blackbird // Mclennon

Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)

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      " And when I awoke,
I was alone.
This bird has flown.
So,
I lit a fire,
isn't it good?
Norwegian wood. "

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   "So, ye fancy me?" John stuttered. "How—"

    "I think I do, John, and... a lot more than I should..." I tried to explain myself quietly so that no one else would hear. "I had this dream, ye know, and it really-"

    "Ye bastard..." John glared down at me, laughing to himself afterwards. He was clearly uncomfortable, it was very obvious.

     "...What?" I asked.

     "Why do ye like me?! Do I look queer to ye?! Is it written across my bleedin' forehead?!" John began yelling loudly and getting into my face.

     I pushed my hair back, "No! ...Ye jus flirted wi' me so much, and I guess I might've... gotten the most stupid idea that maybe-"

     "Flirted? When?!" John asked. "When did I flirt wi' ye?!"

"...Are ye serious?"

John didn't reply to my sarcastic remark. He only gave me a stern look.

     I sighed, "Alright. First of all, ye call me 'Macca'. Second, ye told me that I've got jus the most gorgeous doe eyes. Then, ye let me spend the night at yer house when ye found me in the middle of a bloody meadow! And today in class... Hell, ye even asked me if I had a girlfriend!" I went on and on.

     "...It's called being a decent person, I actually care abou' me mates! I really wanted to get to know who ye were, Paul. That comment in class today was jus a little gag I made up. All I wanted to do was pull yer leg a bit, catch ye off-guard. And by the way, jus because I'm friendly to ye, doesn't mean I'm tryin' to shag ye!"

"Who the fuck jokes abou' things like that?!" I asked in a shrill tone. "What else was I supposed to think?"

John shook his head, completely dumbfounded. "...Christ, ye are a poof. Jus like Stu said!"

     "I still don't know what that means."

     "Yer a fag, Paul! That clear enough for ye?" John shouted. "And to think... I was gonna let ye join me band! What a joke." John stormed off towards his house.

     He made no sense, how could he be so charming and sweet to me one minute, and then so bitter and cold the next? It's not like I can change this! I can't change how I feel. That's the truth, and it's becoming so abundantly clear to me, now.

     Because even after he yelled at me so cruelly, I still... feel this way.

I mean, is it really so strange?

     God, what is wrong with me?

     I figured we weren't going to be hanging out today. I, instead, walked home with slight tears streaming down my reddened cheeks. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets as I stared down at the cracked sidewalk. John only glared at me until I was completely out of sight. I got home and locked myself away in my room with no plans on leaving. I prayed my wretched Father wouldn't burst in here just to make things that much worse.

     I woke up covered in sweat the next morning, but atleast on time for school. It was Friday, thankfully. I only had to survive one more day with those two clowns breathing down my neck.

      "Can ye believe I made two of my closest friends hate me in the same week? Must be a talent!" I whispered to myself as I got ready.

     I grabbed my rucksack, slung it over my shoulder, and headed out the door to begin my walk towards the school. Again, neither George nor John were by my side. Guilt was looming over me all day and I just wanted to make things better again. Between all of my friends.