Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-32764586-20171025225744

Ever since I finished my Werewolf story, I realized I had nothing to do. Aside from the micropasta I wrote (Which didn't take a lot of time) I have been spending all of my time on a new pasta. I have the whole story planned out (Although the idea I am going for did take a while to come up with) and have been spending alot of time writing/reading this. After the story I am going to tell you some of the additions I want to add later in the story. I will edit this post every so often because this looks like it's gonna be a long story. So that being said, here is my first post on this story which is about 2,600 words long.

Bloody spittle dripped from James's bottom lip and onto the marble bathroom floor. He rubbed his eyes back into focus and coughed up a little more blood intertwined with vomit. His head ached as if his temple had been bashed in with a brick, or in other words, Tony Richardson's fist. James gripped the sink with his hand and hoisted himself up. He turned around to face Tony, who had a wide grin on his face. Multiple teenagers stood behind Tony, all holding out their cellphones to record the scene before him. James wiped the blood off of his face and locked eyes with Tony. He tried to be brave, but Tony noticed the fear James fought to conceal. One could almost sense the tension in the air.

"Having any fun yet? Or do I need to teach you some more manners?" Tony asked in a pervertedly sweet voice.

"Tony... I swear I wasn't the one who said that... please." James responded. His breathing became heavy and he fought for every word he said.

Tony frowned and stepped forward, grabbing James by the collar. James looked at the tall muscular teen before him, seeing the anger in his eyes. He never had a chance against Tony.

"Listen, all of these people told me what you said. It was some pretty nasty stuff about my sister, and you're just gonna sit here and lie about it to my face?"

James rested his tense body. He knew there was no point in fighting back, lest he anger Tony more. He knew why the people had lied. Why they had put words in his mouth. They just wanted to see a fight. James scowled at the faces behind Tony. He hoped this is what they had wanted. Without mercy, Tony threw James against a nearby wall. James heard the sound of something shattering and prayed it wasn't his body. James slumped to the floor, exhausted and wounded. He could feel his broken nose bleeding. He could feel the blood trickling down his cheek and onto his neck. Tony stood over James now, hands curled into a fist.

"I hope you learn from this you little punk. No one, and I mean no talks about my family."

With that, a teacher cleared a path through the relentless onslaught of kids in the background and pushed Tony away from James. Meanwhile, another teacher rushed towards James and lifted him up. James's vision blurred, and all he could hear around him was static that seemed to scream into his ears. It wasn't long before he blacked out.

James woke up a few hours later. He blinked a couple of times and looked around the room. Underneath of him lay a white sheet of paper. It took him a few moments to realize he was in what appeared to be a traditional doctors office. He looked at himself and noticed he was wearing some athletic shorts and a plain white shirt, different from his previous attire. He assumed his old clothes were bloody. James sat up and groaned in discomfort. He felt his nose which was now bandaged up, along with several other cuts and bruises. Beside him sat his mother, Olivia, a tall pale woman with long brunette hair. James looked at her and she smiled, revealing large white teeth that seemed to shine as bright as a star. James smiled back, glad to see her. He tried to get up but instead she stood and forced him back down to rest.

"It's ok sweety, we'll be out of here in just a little bit. Just rest."

She gave James a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead. James's head still hurt from earlier, and he took great pleasure in leaning back to rest. He gently let his eyes fall and relaxed his muscles. falling asleep in minutes.

James woke up upon hearing the sound of tires rubbing against gravel. He sat up and realized he was in a car, and outside was his house. His mom led him into the house, where he sat down on a comfortable sofa. She then went back outside and brought back some grocery bags in with her when she returned. She pulled up a small table in front of James and unloaded the bag, which contained two store-bought pints of chocolate ice cream. James's eyes lit up with excitement as he grabbed a spoon and ripped the lid off, diving into the sweet, creamy goodness. Olivia chuckled at James and grabbed a spoon too, opening the can of ice cream and digging right in. For minutes they enjoyed their savory treat. It was Olivia who finally broke the silence.

"Are you feeling ok James?"

James chuckled softly. The taste of the ice cream in his mouth and his mothers' presence was so pleasurable that he had forgotten all about what had happened earlier.

"Yes mom, I'm fine. It's only a few scratches and bruises, nothin to worry about."

James gave off a warm smile to try and give off the impression that he really was fine. Olivia bit her lip and looked at him, apparently not totally convinced enough to take the bait. She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a scoop of ice, putting it into a bag for James. She hurried back and proffered it to him, asking that he press it against his head.

"Really mom, I'm fine. I'm a tough kid. I can handle myself."

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him before forcing the ice into his hand.

"I know you're a tough kid James, but you're still my baby. Please take it."

James did as she said. He knew his mother was a kind woman, but he also knew not to mess with her when she meant business. He ran the ice across his face and set it down again, going back to his ice cream. Olivia picked up her spoon and sunk it into her carton. She pressed it against her lip, and then hesitantly put it back down.

"James." She said in a serious tone. He looked up into his mothers' eyes, acknowledging her.

"What happened between you and that kid... Tony?"

James took a deep breath, considering what he wanted to tell her. In the end, he decided to tell her the truth. Or at least, enough of the truth to satisfy her. He told her how the kids had lied about him insulting Tony's sister, and how Tony had fought him. He left out, however, how badly Tony had beaten him, not wanting to make his mother more upset than she probably already was at that point.

Olivia took a deep breath and spoke to James in a soothing voice.

"I'm glad your injuries aren't more serious than they are James. The school allowed me to take you to the hospital because you were pretty bent out of shape, and I was very worried about you."

James listened to her speak. He could have almost sworn that he heard her choke on her words once or twice. She carried on with what she had to say.

"Listen, James, I know you have been through quite a lot today, but based on your story, what Tony did was assault, and if you were to think about pressing any charge-."

James cut her off quickly. His eyes grew wide and his mouth trembled a little.

"No mom, its ok. we don't need to do that, really, it's fine."

James couldn't think of a proper reason to tell his mother as to why he didn't want to press charges. Deep down he knew that he was afraid that if he did press charges, Tony would come after him again. He was afraid that the beating would be even worse if the authorities were to get involved. At least, that's what he assumed.

Olivia looked at James with a cheery smile, but he could see the worry in her eyes. The two went back to their ice cream cartons after that. Neither of them spoke a word. When James was done with his carton he excused himself to his room. He closed and locked the door behind him and sat on his bed in contemplation. During his pondering, he felt a vibration in his back pocket. Curious, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. With one swift motion, he tapped the source of the notification and saw a message. No, not just one message... Dozens of them, flooding his phone now. He looked at the messages, each of which contained a video link. He clicked the link which transferred his page to a youtube video. James hummed as he waited for it to load. When the page was fully loaded, James pressed play and then watched.

He saw a very familiar setting. A tile floor, a couple of sinks, and dozens of other people surrounding something. James recognized they were surrounding two people... Tony, and himself. James felt his stomach churn, yet forced himself to watch onward. He saw Tony swing, his punch connecting with James's nose. The sound emitted from the blow was loud enough to be heard above all of the kids in the background screaming in excitement. James watched as Tony continued his assault, and saw himself in the video trying to block the punches, a useless endeavor. When the video ended, James found himself staring at the screen, words seemingly unable to describe the wild thoughts running through his head. His eyes then widened in disbelief. Two hundred views already. How long had it been... hours? James reluctantly scrolled down to the comments. People were mocking him, laughing at him. James hung his head down in defeat.

He trudged out to the living room where his mom sat on the couch. He walked over to her and embraced her, tears welling in his eyes. He dared not allow her to see those tears, though. He also dared not speak, lest she hear the tears he was trying to swallow down his throat. James entered his room once more and allowed his body to fall to the soft mattress. It wasn't until his head hit the pillow that he allowed himself to sob. James pressed his face down into the pillow to drown out the crying. He curled under the blankets in a ball and let his body rest. He was soon enough fast asleep.

James instantly knew he was in a dream when it started. He saw blood smeared on the floor, a vision all too familiar to him. He looked up and saw the people and Tony around him. And at the center point of the scene stood Tony, his knuckles bloodied and red. James tried to calm his breathing, telling himself that none of it was real. However, it sure felt real when Tony lifted him up by his collar as he had done before and menacingly put his face close to James's. James spoke in a whimpered voice, using all of his strength just to utter a couple of words.

"This... this isn't real. You're not real... This is fake."

Tony grinned and punched James in the gut, causing him to gasp in pain.

"Is this real enough for you?" said Tony in a deep growl, smirking at James.

James fell back to the ground and tried desperately to crawl away, his back hitting against the wall. The audience laughed at his misfortune and advanced towards him, as did Tony. James braced himself preparing for the worst. He squeezed his eyes shut and began to sob. He waited. And waited more and some more. James looked up, confused at what he saw. Tony stood several feet backed up from where he previously was, mouth gaping, eyes staring at James. James stood up, puzzled. It was when James followed Tony's eyes more closely that he saw that Tony was actually staring at something slightly to the right of James.

James looked over, where he saw something quite unexpected. A child, no older than eight, stood beside James with a cold expression on his face. He was pale and wore what appeared to be a cosplay of some sorts of Woody from Toystory, one of James's favorite movies. He faced towards Tony and the crowd that backed him up. The child then turned towards James and spoke in a high pitched bubbly voice.

"I'm your friend James."

The boy gave a smile towards James and then faced toward the other people who stood in shock at the sight of the little boy. Again, he spoke.

"Those people aren't. They're mean to you James, you shouldn't have to deal with them."

The child snapped his fingers together. In mere seconds the bathroom and the dozens of kids who had previously been recording the scene vanished. Now, all that remained there was James, the child, Tony, and a meadow somewhere in the middle of a bright sunny day. The child stepped between James and Tony, and again he spoke in a innocent and giddy voice.

"James, you shouldn't have to deal with Tony. He's a bully, and you know that. I can help you, James."

James raised an eyebrow. His interest was peaked. This time, it was James who spoke to the child.

"How could you help me?" questioned James, wondering how a child in a dream could possibly help him in any way.

The child responded quickly. His smile grew wider and wider with each passing second.

"I can make sure you never see Tony again. You shouldn't have people like him in your life, James. You and Tony can go your separate ways, and you'll be happy again."

James noticed the child's bright blue eyes which were full of life and energy. A gentle breeze caused the tall grass to sway with it. The sky was as blue as the child's eyes, and it was a cloudless day. The child spoke innocently again, trying to convince James of his intentions.

"Please James. I just want to help you."

The child looked at Tony, who seemed to have been frozen the entire time, and then looked back at James.

"It is him who caused you the problems you face now, isn't he?" The child proclaimed with the most innocent of voices."

"Yes." Responded James. It was true after all. Maybe if Tony could be taken out of the picture, his life would be better off. He had no idea why exactly he was trusting a child from his dreams to handle the situation, but James thought that a dream was all it was, so what did it matter?

"So, do you want me to help you, James?" Asked the child, his face lit with excitement and joy.

"Yes," James replied again.

The boy smiled warmly at James and snapped his fingers, causing James to wake up. He sat alert in his bed, checking the time. The clock that sat near him read 2:27 Am. James rubbed his eyes and yawned. He thought about the dream he just had. He knew the dream was strange, but he didn't pay it any mind. He laid back down to rest again and allowed his eyes to flutter. It was just a dream after all.

Things I want to add/changes I might make.

I'm thinking about removing alot about the dream with the bathroom scene, seeing as how I already summed up wht happened in the bathroom twice before.

I want to make the "Bully of the story likeable" I plan to give him a reason for being how he is and maybe even making friends and amends with the main character, which should make what I have planned ahead sad.

I am going to develop the mom and main character more throughout the story.

I think that is about it for now. Thanks if you made it this far. 