Damien's World ~a novella~ Chapter 1
As I awoke to the sobering `beep' of my seemingly ancient alarm clock, I laid in bed, pondering what my new school year, of my new school, would be like. I had just moved to Franklin, a small town in rural West Virginia. Franklinwas a dreary, overcast, small-town bordering the Appalachian Mountains. Everybody knew everybody, and everybody knew each other's business. It has its pros and cons, I guess.
Waking up in a new town is different. It is like waking in a person's home, of which you slept the night in the first time, and momentarily not knowing where you are. I got a serious dose of this feeling, it wasn't very comfortable.
I snapped out of my drifting thoughts, and rushed downstairs only to be met by the smell of freshly brewed coffee, like a smack in the face. My mother stood above the rustic wooden sink, just below the kitchen window which displayed a quiet view of the fall foliage in its infancy.
Upon hearing me enter the kitchen, she jokingly snapped in her distinctive Brooklynaccent "Who the hell are you?"
Giggling, I replied "Your illegitimate son!"
After our bantered greeting, I rushed over and gave her a light kiss on her wrinkled smoker's cheek.
This was my mom: a middle-aged widow with developing sags under her eyes, mounting monetary stress, eccentric drinking habits, and an evident case of unfulfilled dreams. Yet, she still managed to remain cheerful in her demeanor, ever since a terrible accident which robbed me of my workaholic father, and the family car, an old 70's Lincoln Town Car, which was on its last legs.
My mother and I had just moved from Long Island, hoping to get a fresh start on life in a new town. Overall, I didn't favor the transition much. But then again, I didn't have much to lose. I wasn't popular in my old school; there were no special academic achievements for me, no star athlete status, and a social status short of an unknown who drifted through the hallways, like a ghost each day.
I guess you could call me a bit of a loner. I was apart of a small circle of friends, who enjoyed moderate popularity. I was somewhat of a tag along with them, yet they still enjoyed my presence (I myself being a little bit of eye candy). If I didn't cause any trouble with any of them or get in their way, I was occasionally invited to come along with them on their outings to the local suburban shopping mall. I never really cared for extraversion, myself being a self-recognized introvert; I just hung-out with them to keep up appearances with my seldom noticing peers. I didn't want to be labeled as an outcast, you know.
I comically walked over to the kitchen table, still covered in moving boxes, to see what my mom had prepared for our breakfast. Scrambled eggs and bacon, how mediocre...
On my walk to school, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of my new classmates. By this time the sun was out, and its blare reflected off the browning leaves of the trees creating a lovely shade of sepia. About two minutes into my walk, I began to see other kids stepping out of their Victorian homes on Main Street. I strived to get a closer look at them, but the hedges in front of me would not allow my view to extend pass a mess of leaves. I walked passed the hedges by about three feet, and that's when I saw quite possibly the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.
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