Date: Tue, 24 Dec 2002 17:01:59 +0000 From: Riv Riv Subject: A Snowy Day - Chapter One This is my first story every posted, so if it's not all that good, there you go! I would love to receive feedback, but am also afraid to say that I may not be able to respond to all e-mail, or promptly for that matter. I hope that does not stop anyone from mailing me though! I really would love to hear your reactions. This story is my own creation, so no one can distribute it without my permission. I hope you all enjoy!! Riv A Snowy Day Chapter One The snow was gently falling as I crossed through the park. The bare oak trees were coated in white, as was the ground and the park benches. It was a scene straight out of a picture book - a stark contrast from the dirty highway I had walked along to get here, the passing cars churning the freshly fallen snow into ugly slush. The incessant honking and squealing tires along the slippery pavement had been immediately deadened upon entering the park. The real world was left behind as I was surrounded by a serene beauty. I sighed. My breath came out in a white cloud. My fingers were beginning to get numb. I cursed at my stupidity. Who forgets to wear gloves when it is below freezing and snowing outside? I brought my scarf tighter around my neck with my left hand, then immediately buried it deep in my coat pocket again. My right hand was fighting for space in the other pocket with a single wrapped package. A present. Nothing extravagant, but something, hopefully, that he would like. That is, if he would even let me in his house. What was I doing anyway? It was all so stupid, and for what? If any of my other friends witnessed what I was doing, I was a goner for sure. Rumors spread faster than the flu virus in school. Then why was I doing this? I sighed again. Living more in the suburban outskirts, I had not been to this area of town in a long while. There was no need to. Most of my friends lived in my neighborhood, and those that didn't had a way of showing up in their cars anyway. The new mall was more than enough for us to forget the existence of the old shopping row in the center of town. The ice-cream parlor and single-screen theater, we abandoned it all for the newer, better equivalents, all comfortably located within the same concrete megastructure right at the exit of the Interstate. The center area of town was the past to us, a forbidden place we hardly even discussed anymore. It was therefore almost fitting that he lived here, in this abandoned, forgotten part of town. At one point he had existed alongside us. But we had left him here, in the past. I could see the edge of the park up ahead. The street lamps were lit, though it was only a little past lunch and not very dark outside. I made my way onto the sidewalk and looked up and down the silent street. Row-houses lined the cobblestone street, with snow-covered cars parked in front of about every other house. I paused, finding the house I was looking for a few hundred feet away. Even from where I was I could make out the twinkling Christmas lights in the window. I sighed again. Nothing changes. The snow kept drifting down as I made my way towards the particular row house. My footprints, I noticed, were getting closer and closer together as I neared the house, until finally, a few yards away, I stopped walking completely. It was dead silent on this street, without a soul in sight. I looked at the next row-house with the Christmas lights in the window. I still had time, I could still turn around and no one would know. I shivered. That quickly made up my mind. I laughed at my cowardice, knowing that the fact of a warm fire rather than the conviction for my cause was what was propelling me the last few steps to the house. It was a good half an hour walk back to my house, and I was sure as hell not going to do that without getting some sort of warmth into my body. I cursed my older brother again for taking the car out today, leaving me without a means of transportation. He was back from college for the holidays and saw it as his privilege to take the second car whenever he felt like it. Who goes out when its snowing anyways? Well, a lot of people, if the highway was any indication. Besides, I would have if he hadn't. I realized I had been standing on the front porch for some while. Shaking off my last resisting urge, I brought a trembling finger up to the doorbell and pressed. A heard the echo of the bell from the opposite side of the door. I waited for the pattering of feet, but none came to open the door. I took my hand out of my pocket and pressed the button again, a little harder this time, as if that makes any difference. Yet, another minute passed without an answer. I was beginning to get pissed, and I raised my hand a third time to press the doorbell when the front door creaked open. A set of brown eyes under a mop of shaggy dirty-blonde hair gazed through the crack. The eyes immediately narrowed as they realized who I was. "Can I come in?" I asked, barely above a whisper. "What do you want?" The voice had absolutely no emotion. "It's kind of cold out here, can I please come in?" The door creaked open a bit more and a blast of warm air hit me, but it was soon blocked by a body that did not look like it was intending to move. "What do you want?" The voice was a bit louder, but just as dead. The brown eyes were glaring accusingly at me. I could not meet the gaze and lowered my own to my feet. "I ... I brought you something." I whispered. "Please? May I ... may I come in?" There was a long pause. But I could not lift my eyes to meet those brown ones again. It terrified me to do so. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard the door moving again, and the waft of warm air told me that it had been opened all the way. I gratefully entered the warm house, out of the snow, and felt the door close behind me. "What do you want, Thomas?" I heard as soon as the door was closed. Obviously I was not welcome beyond the foyer. "Billy, please, I wanted to talk to you." I felt myself stammer. There was no response. I glanced upward and found those brown eyes still glaring, still accusing, and just as narrow. I averted the gaze again and took in the other features of the long lost boy I had shared my youth with. His silky blonde hair had turned into a rough golden-brown, all ruffled and messed up like he had just gotten out of bed. His arms were long and lanky, slightly out of proportion from the rest of his body which still carried the presence of his younger years. He was still shorter than me, but not by much, and his face had elongated slightly. He was caught in between childhood and adolescence, and the beauty of it was startling. I shook my head, focusing myself back to reality. "I said, Thomas, what do you want?" This time there was anger in the words. I felt Billy inch a step closer to me, and I involuntarily stepped back towards the closed door. I finally found my voice, and brought out what I had been hiding in my right pocket. "I brought you a birthday present." I said weakly. "You know, sixteen. It's an important one." I blushed slightly at how stupid I sounded as I brought out the wrapped package. However, Billy didn't reach for it himself. My right arm was left suspended in midair, with the present in my hand. "Why?" The anger was gone, but those narrow eyes were still accusing. I gulped. For an instant I remembered Billy from elementary, as we played tag with everyone else out in the park on a summer's day. I remembered Billy laughing, those brown eyes sparkling with joy. When had been the last time I had seen him like that? Sometime in middle school, when everything had changed. About the time everybody started talking about him, and avoiding him, and everybody including myself had shunned Billy out. He had changed quite a lot since then. Grew into a total stranger, hardly resembling that cheerful youth full of smiles and crazy ideas the rest of us would eagerly perform. He had changed so much. "Why?" The question was repeated. "I wanted to ... " I trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say. My arm was getting tired, and Billy must have sensed this. For the first time his eyes averted mine, and he looked at the wrapped gift. Then he slowly reached out for it and took it in his own hands. We stood there like that for a few minutes, me staring at him now, while he stared at his present. "Um... can I ... may I, you know, sit down?" I tentatively asked. Initially the foyer had felt warm, but my body had gotten used to the temperature change, and it was beginning to crave for more. "Huh?" Billy looked up at me again. "You know, sit down, in like a chair in the living room?" I smiled a little, but that was quickly erased again by his narrow eyes. "Sorry." I mumbled under my breath, looking down again. "Come." Was all he said, and I followed him obediently into the living room. It was exactly how I remembered it, from whenever I had stepped into it last. It must have been four Christmas's ago, or sometime around there, the winter of Seventh grade. The same Christmas decorations were up, the same glowing, plastic Santa in the corner. The stockings lined the fireplace, all hanging at the same angle. "Mom is out with Sarah buying stuff for dinner." I heard Billy say as I stopped by the mantelpiece where numerous family photos were lined up. Only here did I find Billy smiling. And yet, even here, the smiles seemed more and more strained as the photographs progressed through the years. I looked up and saw that Billy was gone, my present for him under the Christmas tree by the fireplace. I looked at the pile of presents, remembering the old days again when I had tried helping him figure out what each box contained. Books and clothes were about all we ever got right. Billy came back from the kitchen and sat down in one of the sofas. I walked over and sat across from him. There was silence again, neither of us knowing what to say, and neither of us brave enough to be the first to talk. Finally, I pointed at my present, not saying anything, just pointing, trying to get Billy to say something in response. "Yes?" At least it was a response. "The present, it's for your birthday." I said. "Not for Christmas. You know, that's still two days away." "I always open Christmas gifts and birthday gifts together." Billy replied simply. "Or don't you remember?" "Oh..." I remembered. I had just hoped he would open it, while I was here. At least then we could talk about that, rather than focus on the other more unpleasant thoughts that were surely going through both of our heads. I wanted to break this initial tension before we got into that. I knew I was incapable of talking about our problems right now, with those eyes glaring at me. I had to get some sort of sign that the Billy of old was still somewhere within this boy sitting in front of me. "Why, do you want me to open it now?" Billy asked. "No, that's all right." I don't even know if I said that outloud. "Why Thomas?" Billy asked again. "It's your birthday." That was lame. I hadn't given him anything his past three birthdays. "No, not that." Billy dismissed the pile of presents under the tree with a wave of his hand. "Why did you tell the others?" I gulped, not knowing how to respond. "Why did you leave me? Why did you ... why did you stop being my friend?" The pain was evident just in his voice, I could hardly bare to look up at him, but when I did, I found that he had turned to look at the wall. His eyes were misty and his lip was quivering. "I can't believe I'm still crying about it." He said in a hoarse voice, more to himself than to me. "I can't believe I let you do this to me." Billy then turned back at me, and for an instant, I caught the pain in his eyes full force. They were pleading, begging, crying out to me. But that was washed over by anger that quickly took over all of Billy as he stood from his sofa. He towered over me, and for an instant I had the feeling he was going to kill me. "What the fuck do you want Thomas? Is it a joke? Another one of your fucking pranks I endure day after day?" The screams were coming from some hidden place deep inside, a place that had been kept shut for his own safety, but now Billy's most inner emotions were being let loose and he had no control over them. "Do you think I chose to be this way? Huh? Do you think I want to be different, to be made fun of and kicked around at school? Do you have any idea what it is like to be how I am, without a soul in the world to turn to? HUH?? DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA!!??" "Billy please ... " I was shielding myself with my hands, but the words were still piercing me, the wounds inflicted deep. "SHUT UP!!" Billy grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me to my feet. My face was inches from his, his firey eyes boring into mine. "I trusted you, you were my best friend. I was always there for you. And the one time I needed you, you turned your back on me, and what's more, you told the whole school that I was a fag." "Not the whole .... school." Billy inched his face closer. I shut my mouth. "Now I don't know what you are playing at, showing up at my doorstep after putting me through four years of shit." He was so close his breath washed over my lips. "But whatever it is, I won't let you have your way this time. You best watch your back Tommy," He said my old nickname with such vengeance it added an extra shiver down my spine. "Because someday, I am going to have my own revenge." He then violently let go of my shirt collar and I fell to the floor in a heap. I sat there, in a sort of daze, absent mindedly rubbing my sore neck. "Get out." Billy said softly from his sofa. He had sat down again and was looking at the Christmas tree. I made no move to go. "GET OUT!!" Billy turned his head and the fire in his eyes made me jump to my feet. I ran out of the house, not bothering to close the front door, and ran down the steps onto the cobblestone street. I then ran across into the park and tried running through the thick snow, but finally stopped, leaning against a tree, catching my breath. I slowly turned around, and in the distance saw the row-house, the only one in the row with Christmas lights in its windows. I saw a silhouette in the doorway. And then the door closed. The door between a friendship I had lost, which I had tried to rekindle today, closed forever. I turned my back to the row-houses and for the first time felt tears running down my cheek. I couldn't restrain myself and I began openly crying, bawling, for all the world to hear. And yet, nobody came to rescue me. The snow kept falling all around me as I started my own long walk home, still crying. .... to be continued. There it is. My first chapter. Again, I hope some of you are inclined to write me what you think, and I apologize up front if my replies are slow in getting to you. Thanks for reading! Riv