𝔗𝔦𝔱𝔩𝔢 - ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᴬ ᴸⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᴮʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵂⁱⁿᵍ
𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 - ⁴⁵⁸
𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - ⁱᵐᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ᶠˡᵃˢʰ ᶠⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ | ʰᵘʳᵗ/ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ? | ʷʰᵒˡᵉˢᵒᵐᵉ | ᵗʷᵒ ᵗᵉⁿ ʸᵉᵃʳ ᵒˡᵈ ᵇᵒʸˢ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ. ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ.
James’ mother was going to kill him. He was supposed to be home at three, and it was already six. He glared at his friend, Scott, who had gotten them lost in the first place. Of course, Scott had no worries. His father left when he was five, and his mother was always drunk. He did as he pleased.
“C’mon, Scott. We need to find out way home!” James pleaded, looking at the sun nervously as it started to set.
“Relax, you pansy. We’re having fun!” Scott picked up a long stick, and bashed it across a tree. Apparently, that was fun for him, but James didn’t understand.
“Look, my mom is going to freak. I need to get home!” James said, stepping in front of his friend, and blocking his path.
Scott rolled his eyes, and dropped the stick. “Bro, you need to forget about her sometimes. Having fun comes with consequences,” he said, walking around James.
James turned around quickly, anger filling his features. “You don’t have to worry about consequences, because your mom doesn’t give a care about you!” he shouted.
Scott suddenly stopped walking, and James instantly regretted what he had just said. Silence passed over the next few seconds.
“Dude, there’s a bird,” Scott said finally.
James tilted his head from confusion, and squinted his eyes, as if it would help him understand. “What?” he asked.
“There’s a bird,” Scott repeated, kneeling down.
James’ mouth gaped. “I thought you stopped walking to beat the crud outta me for saying your mother doesn’t care about you,” he admitted.
“Nah, man. I know she doesn’t care. Check out this bird. I think it’s hurt.”
James walked over and stepped around his friend to get a better look. The bird was indeed hurt. Its wing was bent in an awkward position. It chirped angrily at them, feeling threatened.
“What do we do?” James asked.
“Let’s take it to your mom,” Scott said, his eyes not leaving the bird.
James looked at him in disbelief. “Why would we do that?” he asked loudly.
Scott shrugged his shoulders. “Don’tcha think it would take her mind off you being late?” he said calmly.
James thought for a moment. Would his mother really be distracted? “Okay, it’s worth a shot,” he said finally, shrugging his own shoulders and standing up.
Scott picked up the bird, who was still squawking uncontrollably, then started walking the opposite direction.
They walked in silence for a few moments before Scott spoke up.
“Hey, man, don’t worry about your mom. If she actually tried to kill you, then we can run away together,” He said, looking straight ahead.
James looked over to his friend. Scott wasn’t as much of a bad boy as he played.
