So I’ve been ridiculously busy these days–who isn’t these days, right? But I got a couple of requests on my manuscript and have been revising and editing like crazy. Anyway, this challenge has been the bane of my existence for two reasons: one–I absolutely can’t stand not finishing something once I’ve started it. And two–I really want to know what happens to John. It’s the end of the month now and I’ve barely gone half way. My goal is to finish before the end of the month. Uhh…tomorrow. And then there is NaNoWriMo. I so wish there were more hours in the day. Two more and I just might make a dent in my “to do” list. Alright, enough of this.

Year 11:

Grains of sand fell through John’s fingers like passing time. He dug his toes deep into the warm sand, knowing that soon it would be cold again. The birds above flew in great sweeping arcs, occasionally diving for some unseen object.

He sighed at another day lost. His hand involuntarily touched the tender area below his right eye. It was still swollen despite it’s color, a faded dirty yellow. He got a week off school for his little skirmish–that’s what the women in the office called what he had done to that boy. The boy he used to call a friend. But it was hardly a skirmish. It was a fight and John had to be dragged from the boy. He couldn’t even remember why he lost his temper.

He lost his temper a lot these days. It didn’t take much. The wrong glance in his direction,  whispers, name calling…it didn’t matter, all of it set John off. There was an anger dwelling deep in his soul now and the only thing that made him feel better was when he lost control.