Hi there. This is a short story I wrote to this one competition at my school back in........... 2011? Second year of high school. I won third place with the original story - a whopping 30€ - and it's been rewritten and rerewritten since then. I actually got a review for it from an
actual professional author at one point and she liked it so aaaa. I'd forgotten about that. Can't remember her name, but she came to visit our creative writing class last year and I missed the actual visiting lesson, so my teacher emailed the story to her and she wrote back with a review. I have it somewhere back home, I should try to find it...
Anyway! The story
was originally in Finnish, but I though I'd translate it because why not. Enjoy!
Pie out.
~x~
October rolled around, cold and harsh. Wet as well, although the
relentless rain of the past several days had finally ended and even the
occasional shimmer of sunlight could be seen from between the thick grey
clouds. The river running through the city had swelled up from the rain, its
stream faster and rapids stronger.
The overbridge was deserted, which could be attributed to the time of
day; most people were at school or work, and the cold autumn weather shied away
all who weren't. Well, nearly all.
A lone figure of a teenage boy stood on the bridge. He was clutching the
barrier and staring down at the black water. The line of his shoulders seemed
heavy and he sighed, his tired grey eyes following the layer of froth as it
swirled around, around, around on top of the water. A gust of wind whipped
past, ruffling his brown hair.
He inhaled deeply and squeezed his eyes shut.
“'S gonna be cold.”
Nick spun around, eyes wide, looking for whomever had spoken. Another
boy, somewhat older, was sitting on the railing on the opposite side of the
bridge, staring up at the sky.
“The water, that is.”
“The... What?”
“Wow, I didn't realize I was being that unclear,” the older boy
said with a grin. He still didn't look down. “The water. It's cold, yeah?” Nick
scowled at him.
“I know that—it’s October, you twat. Who the hell're you?”
The older boy raised his eyebrows and jumped off the railing to the
bridge, stalking over to stand next to the other. He peeked over the edge, at
the blackness of the water below and Nick glanced down as well. It was a long
way down.
“Let's just say... I'm your personal guardian angel. Temporarily,” he
said with a grin, finally turning to look at Nick. His eyes were awfully blue.
“What's your name?”
“None of your bloody business,” Nick snapped, tearing his gaze away,
opting to turn back at the river again. He could feel the blue eyes on him,
assessing him, but he ignored it and crossed his arms.
They were quiet for a while.
“Nick.”
“Sorry, what?”
“My name is Nick,” he said, louder this time. He refused to look at the
“angel”. His eyes were unnerving, like they were somehow older than he
appeared.
“Nick, huh?” said the angel. “Not bad. I like it.”
“Hmh,” said Nick.
“Ok, sweet. I'm gonna tell you a riddle,” the angel continued after it
became apparent Nick wasn't going to comment further.
“I always run ahead,
and you can't catch me.
I am certain, but uncertain,
yet you must depend on me.
You can never truly see me,
but still you try.
Here is the question,
who am I?”
Nick blinked. He blinked again. Then he frowned. The angel watched him
with an amused smile.
“Ugh, I don't know,” Nick finally huffed. “It's too confusing.”
“It is a riddle, chump. That's the point.” Nick made a non-committal
sound and rubbed his eyes. He was still frowning.
The silence stretched out for several minutes this time.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Nick turned to look at angel in surprise, the familiar responses of “I'm
fine” and “Piss off” on his tongue, but when he saw the look on the other's
face he stopped. Angel was no longer smirking, but his expression was solemn
and serious. And his eyes... His eyes weren't sad like mum's, or pitying like
the teachers', nor were they confused or, god forbid, annoyed, like most
of his so-called friends'. They were kind, understanding almost. Nick looked
back at the river and shrugged.
“It's not a particularly interesting story,” he began quietly. “It's my
dad, and... well. He's always been a drinker, but then he got sacked and it
just kept getting worse and worse. Nowadays he's more often drunk than sober,
just lying on the damn sofa. Mum has to work for the both of them, and when she's
home she also has to cook and clean and do everything else as well. And dad is
an aggressive drunk, and I mean very aggressive, one wrong move and he
gets fucking violent. And I – I try not to get in his way, but it's damn near
impossible! And – and he.... he...”
Nick inhaled sharply. He could feel tears stinging behind his eyes, hot
and insistent. He gritted his teeth, trying to will down the volcano of emotion
on the verge of eruption inside him. He was shaking now, his knuckles white
from his grip on the barrier and a loud sob escaped his throat. He couldn't
take it any more, he simply couldn't, it was too much, it was –
A warm hand wrapped around his shoulders.
He blinked up in surprise. Angel pulled him closer, giving him an
encouraging smile. His thumb flicked across Nick's wet cheek and Nick lifted
his hand to rub at his eyes again. When had he started crying? He drew in a
shaky breath and exhaled deeply.
“Sometimes,” he said, quiet again. “Sometimes I feel like I deserve it.
I feel like, like a complete failure, like what he does to me is somehow
justified. And I hate myself for it, because I don't deserve it, no one does.
Sometimes I want to fight it, but I can't. It's just, it's so much, y'know.
It's like I'm choking, like I can't breathe. I live in constant fear
that when I do something he will... It – it's like a fucking cage. And I
can't, I can't live in a cage any more, so I just thought...”
He fell silent, the words meaningless at the back of his tongue. He
gazed down at the river.
“Go.”
“What?”
“You need to go. Somewhere safe. To your grandparents', aunt's, uncle's,
friend's place, it doesn't matter as long as you feel safe. There is
always someone who wants to help. Because you have to get your life back, and
you can't do it, not when he's around. And you can't let one person ruin your
life, even if it is your father. You can choose for yourself. So choose
to be free.”
Angel's words were calm and insistent. He was looking at the sky again.
A small flock of birds flew overhead, migrating south, out of the way of the
cold, unyielding winter.
Angel's hand fell down Nick's back before dropping off completely. Nick
found himself missing the warmth and steadiness. He looked up at Angel and
Angel looked down at him, a small smile on his lips. Nick found himself smiling
as well, warmer and realer than he remembered smiling in a long time. Angel's
smile grew into a full-blown toothy grin as he noticed Nick starting to smile.
They stood there for a while, face to face, grinning like lunatics. Then
Angel nodded and turned to leave.
“Hey, wait!” The words were out of Nick's mouth before he could stop
them. He quickly pulled back his hand that had started to reach out. Angel
turned to look back with an amused expression. “I uh, I mean.” His heart was
hammering in his chest as he tried to think of something sensible to say.
“W-well, what was it? The, the thing I must depend on?”
Angel grinned wide.
“The future.”
~X~