I think I'll write a short story...give me suggestions for a title....
Chapter 1
Ryle never really knew why she was as unpleasant as she was. Perhaps it had something to do with her new husband - that is, if you consider three years of marriage still 'new.' In any case, all that Ryle knew was that his mother had changed. Drastically. Would it have been too cruel or disrespectful to tell her what a polar BITCH she had become? Probably.
And it wasn't that her new husband was mean or mistreated Ryle, his mother, or even his younger sister Astrid. He was just an unpleasant prick. Nothing was good enough for him, he was a nitpicker, and an idiot (as Ryle would describe him). Stepfather. The very word invokes feelings of hatred and resent, resent of this stepfather's fucking up of the balance of the former family. These thoughts cycled in and out of Ryle's mind, which had enough stress upon it as it was.
"IT'S TEN 'TIL FOUR! YOU HAVE BEEN IN THE SHOWER FOR 20 MINUTES AND YOU STILL HAVE TO PICK UP DARLA!" his mother griped as she poked her head into the bathroom that, although she had her own bathroom in the master bedroom, she so clutterously occupied.
Darla. Possibly the single most bothersome person on the planet. Although they were close friends throughout grade school and junior high, Ryle started to realize by their junior year what a miserable, pathetic human being she was. Her sole purpose of existence seemed to be driven to attract sympathy. She fished for compliments like a fiend. It was truly disgusting.
"I'm fat and ugly," she would moan. "No guy will ever want to be with me."
"Oh, come on now," a nearby sympathizer would say. "You're gorgeous."
And so began the cycle of explaining her recent internet relationship gone bad, or how the guy that she had considered her boyfriend, although they only met twice at the most, had cheated on her with his ex-girlfriend. It was a vicious cycle, and it perturbed Ryle to his very limits. He hated her stupid game of taking advantage of others' sympathy. He desired so much to finally agree with her.
"You're probably right, Darla. Why would anyone want to date a hideous cow like you."
To some it may be cruel, but in Ryle's mind, and the minds of many of his close friends, it was exactly what Darla needed.
"I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT! YOU HAVE FIFTEEN MINUTES TO GET TO THE HIGH SCHOOL, RYLE!"
His mother's voice was like the sound of a pitchfork being dragged across a steel sheet. Ryle reluctantly turned the water off, dried himself, and made his way downstairs to his room that really wasn't a room at all. It was more of a den, directly adjacent to the downstairs living room. This configuration translates to absolutely zero privacy. Privacy that is very important to a 17 year old boy. The funny thing about Ryle was his lack of modesty. He changed in the openness of his bedroom/den, rather than in his large walk-in closet.
...........more to come..........
Ryle never really knew why she was as unpleasant as she was. Perhaps it had something to do with her new husband - that is, if you consider three years of marriage still 'new.' In any case, all that Ryle knew was that his mother had changed. Drastically. Would it have been too cruel or disrespectful to tell her what a polar BITCH she had become? Probably.
And it wasn't that her new husband was mean or mistreated Ryle, his mother, or even his younger sister Astrid. He was just an unpleasant prick. Nothing was good enough for him, he was a nitpicker, and an idiot (as Ryle would describe him). Stepfather. The very word invokes feelings of hatred and resent, resent of this stepfather's fucking up of the balance of the former family. These thoughts cycled in and out of Ryle's mind, which had enough stress upon it as it was.
"IT'S TEN 'TIL FOUR! YOU HAVE BEEN IN THE SHOWER FOR 20 MINUTES AND YOU STILL HAVE TO PICK UP DARLA!" his mother griped as she poked her head into the bathroom that, although she had her own bathroom in the master bedroom, she so clutterously occupied.
Darla. Possibly the single most bothersome person on the planet. Although they were close friends throughout grade school and junior high, Ryle started to realize by their junior year what a miserable, pathetic human being she was. Her sole purpose of existence seemed to be driven to attract sympathy. She fished for compliments like a fiend. It was truly disgusting.
"I'm fat and ugly," she would moan. "No guy will ever want to be with me."
"Oh, come on now," a nearby sympathizer would say. "You're gorgeous."
And so began the cycle of explaining her recent internet relationship gone bad, or how the guy that she had considered her boyfriend, although they only met twice at the most, had cheated on her with his ex-girlfriend. It was a vicious cycle, and it perturbed Ryle to his very limits. He hated her stupid game of taking advantage of others' sympathy. He desired so much to finally agree with her.
"You're probably right, Darla. Why would anyone want to date a hideous cow like you."
To some it may be cruel, but in Ryle's mind, and the minds of many of his close friends, it was exactly what Darla needed.
"I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT! YOU HAVE FIFTEEN MINUTES TO GET TO THE HIGH SCHOOL, RYLE!"
His mother's voice was like the sound of a pitchfork being dragged across a steel sheet. Ryle reluctantly turned the water off, dried himself, and made his way downstairs to his room that really wasn't a room at all. It was more of a den, directly adjacent to the downstairs living room. This configuration translates to absolutely zero privacy. Privacy that is very important to a 17 year old boy. The funny thing about Ryle was his lack of modesty. He changed in the openness of his bedroom/den, rather than in his large walk-in closet.
...........more to come..........