Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26118529-20150217135351

Um, Jenny? Hi, I'm Andrew by the way. I came a little early, do you mind? Thank you, I didn't know what to expect when I found you online. I-it's my first time... going to something like this.

Right, so my name is Andrew - but, uh, you knew that already - and... I don't know what to do.

I've never been that kind of guy, you know? When school ended all of the guys would go to the shop 'round the corner to harass people, I would stay in the library with Mary Lennox or Sherlock Holmes. I never had that many friends, or friends at all really, there were people I sat with and tolerated. Could you call that a friend? You could probably imahgine my surprise when he came to talk to me.

Michael was someone who should have been ashamed to talk to a 'loser' like me (especially in a school where your friendship group determins your wirth i the world). He was tall with not much muscle, but he had one of those faces that could melt titanium on the spot. He was the kind of guy who would flaunt his successes and not hesitate to flirt with a girl, single or not. He was so rude when he first introduced himself to me.

I remember him coming up to me and sitting down where George (one of my... friends) usually sat. He gave me a stupid smile and started talking to me. All of the people who usually sat with me didn't sit with me that day. Or the day after that. Or the day after ''that. ''Or the day after - you get the idea. I remember a really bad day when I couldn't find any of my friends at all and Michael came up to me with his megawatt smile and sat accross from me. I asked him why he sat with me in the first place

He said he felt bad for me sitting on my own all the time.

I didn't talk to him after that.

They weren't exactly the best friends ever but they were still my friends, it was rude of him to just ignore them like he did.

they started to talk to me again after that day, they acted even friendlier than before. They constantly hung around me, talking and smiling. I was even invited to go out with them in the evenings! For what felt like the first time, I was acting like a 'normal' human being. Those were the best days of my life.

The problem? oh yes... The problems started a few months after that.

Michael was upset that I stopped talking to him, angry even. He followed me around school trying to get me to talk to him, he even brushed off  a cute girl confessing to him. I ignored him of course, George thought Michael wasn't a good person. But that was the problem.

What... what do you think makes a good person? Is it the way they present themselves? Is it the grades they get? George always said that a good person can't really be defined, I agree with him. He said that 'good' couldn't be defined, he said that the line between 'good' and 'bad' was so blurred that they could be the same.

I didn't understand what he meant until our fith night out. George usually brung our other friends with him (Alyssia, Kate and Dan) to walk in the area around the school. We were all near enough to eighteen at that time, naturally we went around looking for liquor. It was fun the first two nights but we stopped when George suggested we walk around the park unstead.

That night was...

Durning our walk in the park, we came accross a cat. It was tiny probably even less that a year old, but it was bleeding. Alyssia saw it frst and ran up to it, completely flustered and almost heart broken. She said something about the kitten probably being abandoned by its mother. Dan (who was really into medical stuff) told her that it probably wouldn't survive, it lost too much blood. George... George was blunt. He never cared much for anyone's feelings and said that it was probably suffering.

That we should put it out of it's misery.

Everyone agreed, then they all looked at ME. I -

Everyone was saying how heroic I was... How that tiny little soft kitten needed it... that it was good. I knew what I had done was for the good of that animal. I felt like... a good person.

It was years after that... I saw a homeless man. he was starving and looking at everyone so helplessly. So I picked up a book, a heavy one I got from the library.

and I hit him.

Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and -

I put him out of his misery.

But now... George. He wants me to put you out of your misery, Jenny. And I really want to hit you. To help you...

Does that make me a bad person?

Does it?

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'''Any criticism welcome, it's my first pasta posted here so feel free to say whatever! Thanks!''' 