Date: Sat, 19 Jan 2002 01:42:34 EST From: SammySagitarius@aol.com Subject: Of-My-Own: Soccer Locker 5 Before I start this story, I'd just like to let you all know that Soccer Locker 6 will be the final edition. In a few months, if things straighten out for me, I'll include a Soccer Locker 7, just as an update on my fictional character's lives. I'll still be writing about some other things, like i did before Soccer Locker. In an odd twist, the original Matt (Matt A. - The new one is Matt H.) has came back into my life. I have 2 classes with him this semester. Expect that soon. As for now, thanks to the readers. You've chosen my profession for me. I shall be a writer... Here is Soccer Locker 5: *********************** I looked at Denny. "No, Matt's not gay. And neither is anyone else I know. But if they were, would you feel any differently towards them?" He was honest, "Yes. But I wouldn't stop being a friend..." "Okay then," I said, "Then I'll give you this much: as far as I know, he isn't. But I won't garauntee it." Denny was smiling at me. He said, "Can you be more detailed?" I told him that's all I knew, opened my locker, and went to find Brandon. I owed him an apology. I walked down the hallway, dodging in and out of the increasing crowd. As I neared the opening in the people, I saw Brandon's locker. He was in the midst of some popular people, so the crowd didn't allow to me see if he was at his locker. It had occured to me as I was standing there that I had never actually been in that hallway. I had never once ever been in that part of the school. I had never been near his locker. That thought only made me more afraid. I was in a high school that I'd walked through for nearly 2 years now, and I was afraid to go into this particular section. Deep down, I always knew that Brandon could tell how I felt for him. I think he had to have noticed me always looking in the hallways. He must've noticed me following behind him, just to see some part of him, even if it was just the back of his head, all those years. Secretly, for as long as I'd known him, I avoided him when i could. I used to mess with him in 6th grade Gym Class by taunting about this girl who liked him. I knew who it was and he didn't. In my heart I wanted to yell at him. There were words of anger I had for him. Why did you make me fall in love with you? I could have killed him somedays. As if destroying him physically would ever have released me from him emotionally. I am only 16, now, and I know that this one entity will be with me forever. I has seen his arm through the crowd a few times now. I knew he was there. I hadn't noticed that I had stopped in the middle of the hallway. I hadn't noticed that some people, at their lockers, were watching me as I dazed out of reality. I hadn't noticed that Brandon was occasionally glancing at me. It didn't matter. ll I felt right then was pure hate. I wanted him gone. I wanted to never have to see him again so that I didn't have to feel the way I did. I felt as though he had caused me the years of inner torment. I wanted him to hurt the way I hurt. The problem with it all is that I knew if I were to hurt him the only way i knew how, I'd end up hurting myself. I wanted to walk up to him in the middle of all of his friends and give him the note back. I knew that his buddies would snatch the note away and open it. I knew that they would be shocked. Brandon would've been broken down to tears when he realized that his close friends were mere words away from never acknowledging him again. Sure, a few team members knew about him, but most of his close friends weren't on the team. And even so, who's to keep the contents of that letter a secret but me? I lifted the letter. I took a few steps forward. Brandon saw what I had and crept out of the crowd. He made his way over to me. I wanted so badly to read what he had written to me out loud in that hallway. But I couldn't do that to myself. Fear had got the best of me. Fate, however, wasn't done with me. The letter left my hands quickly. I looked sharply at Brandon, still yards away, his face tight with pain. He started at a dash, but he flew past me. The world was going slower. Someone had taken the note from my hands. I spun to see Brandon, but my mind only saw the colors of the hallway, of the people's clothes, blur together. I went cold in mid-turn. I never saw what Brandon went after. I felt the world rushing above my head. I heard my trapper hit the floor. I felt, with stinging pressure, my bones crash onto the cold tiles of the hallway. A young girl tripped on my legs. I heard her shreik as she stumbled to gain her balance. I heard my skull crack against the floor before I felt it. To be honest, I didn't feel it. I saw the blur begin to focus, but at the same time, the whole picture was fading into blackness. I saw Brandon's face, still in pure agony, look me dead in the eye. He thought for a split second as to wether he should come back for me. He turned the other way and chased the one who held his future, which was written innocently onto an old, damaged peice of notebook paper. He ran the way I had just come. He was nearing my locker, I could hear every running footstep. I heard him call out a name, but I didn't hear who. I was unconscious... ************************* Who had the note? Will Brandon get it back? WHo was he calling for? Those facts shall be revealed and the tale of the Soccer Locker shall be complete in Soccer-Locker-6... ************************* I had to include that just to be dramatic. It's very weird what can happen in the course of one schoolday. You can go from an uneasy morning, to pleasure, to taunting, to risk-taking, and even to one of the most suspense-ridden events in the characters' life. I can tell you for sure that he will wake up. I can tell you for sure that all will end neatly. And I can tell you right now that I'll miss this Brandon, this Matt, and this Denny almost as much as I long for the real one's in my life. Feedback is always a nice find in my eMail inbox. My address is at the top of the page. Thank you.