Short Story

A while back I was thinking that I should post a short story on my blog. Then today while trying to come up with an idea for my script on Pre-Script-tion I came up with a great idea that I wanted to explore further than a one-page script.

So I decided to do a cross-pollination of my ideas. I will be posting the first part of a story here on my blog, then I will post the second part in script form on Pre-Script-tion by the end of the night, and then finally I will post the conclusion on my blog tomorrow.

This way you can get the full story and enjoy it in three different ways.

Each chapter of the story will be accompanied by a song that I was listening to while writing. I think that all three stories fit very well with the songs that I happened to be listening to at the time so I will post them along with each part of the story. Hopefully this will add to the ambiance and mood of the story.

Here is the first song. Play it, read and enjoy:


The story is called:

GETAWAY

Chapter One: James and Becky

JAMES

The future.

Depending on your situation it could be optimistic and wide-open, or bleak and discouraging. I’ll give you one guess which one mine is.

Fifteen minutes until the bell. Mrs. Flack is giving me the stink eye again. What did I ever do to her? Sure I slacked off in class, argued with her every point and protested every assignment. But at least I never skipped class! All damn year I have come to class on time and prepared. Never missed an assignment, no matter how poorly presented or useless they may be.

Becky is handing me a note. That’s why I’m getting the stink eye. Not now Becky, we’re going to be talking to each other in like thirteen minutes. Put a lid on your horny self. I’ll just text her.

“James. Put away the cell phone please.”

Shoot, I thought I was being covert enough.

It’s okay, I’ll give Becky the old ‘hang on a sec’ nod.

What was I talking about? Oh ya, I’ve been plotting my escape from this ridiculous one stop-light town for a few years now. There’s really no future in it. What are my options? Loser teacher at Cornbread Podunk High School, labor slave for one of the nearby environment-destroying factories, hermit? I like that one. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about the constant buzzing of the bland townsfolk and their mediocre lives. Problem is I would most likely end up blowing myself up with homemade fertilizer bombs from sheer lack of something to do.

London. I need to get to London. Becky says they are always looking for new talented musicians in London. Plus, all the greatest bands in the world have come from the depths of the UK. Beatles, Clash, Sex Pistols, Stones, Smiths. I could go on.

Okay so now that we have a plan, what should we do? Beg our unsupportive parents for money? Get a summer job and end up forgetting our plans? Rob a convenient store?

BECKY

Just one time I would like to get his stupid ADD attention. For one second you hummingbird! This is really really important. I’ve been trying to tell you all morning that I was accepted at Cornell.

Ugh. Don’t pull out the cell phone, you’ll get Flacked again.

“James. Put away the cell phone please.” Told you sooooo.

A nod. Classy. Whatever, I’ll just wait the twelve minutes for the stupid bell.

Ten.

Five.

RING! Finally!

I’ll need to intercept him from Flack, they can argue for hours. I need to get him out of here, otherwise he would get distracted by something shiny.

JAMES

She’s never going to buy this.

“I had an idea.”

“First I need to tell you something.” Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good at all.

“I need to tell you something about our plans.”

“We’re still going to London right? Tell me you’re still going to London Beck.”

“Well, see it’s not that easy anymore. There’s my father… listen, we had a dumb dream and we thought it would be fun, now reality is setting in and there’s not much room for that sort of thing.”

“Beck, what are you talking about? We had a plan.”

She can’t be serious. What is she doing? There has never been any other plan. I would die without her.

Tell me you’re dying of cancer; tell me you’re secretly a lesbian. Just don’t tell me that you don’t want to be with me and change the world.

“I’ve been accepted into Cornell and I plan to go.”

Shit.

BECKY

Don’t give me that face, I hate that face.

Oooh, you jerk. What am I supposed to do? My father went there, my grandfather went there. I have been getting the ‘Cornell would be good for you’ speech a thousand times in the last few months. Besides, I would pretty much be disowned by my parents if I just ran off now. They are counting on me and they want what’s best for me…I think.

“Say something.”

“Two-thousand, three hundred.”

“What does that mean?”

“That’s how much we need to make it to London. After that we can probably just wing it. Find a job, crash at someone’s place. Get back on our feet you know.”

“James…”

“We could work during the days and then at nights I can play and you can go to art school.”

“James…I don’t think it’s a good idea anymore. Where are we going to get that kind of money?”

Don’t be silent again. I hate that. Whenever something bad happens or we get in a fight you just close down. TALK TO ME!

“We’ll steal it.”

“Dammit James. We can’t do it.”

“No…we can. I’ve got it all figured out.”

Don’t hug me right now. I don’t want to be near you right now. Okay, maybe just a little hug.

“This is our life baby. We only get one shot at it. Do you really want to look back and say that the only thing you ever did was follow what other people said you had to do?”

“…no.”

“We have got to do this. We need to get some money and then get out of here. We need to start living our lives.”

He’s got a point. I don’t care about Cornell. That’s my dad’s dream, not mine.

But it’s just so stupid. Isn’t there something else that is equally freeing but not as equally stupid? I mean, we are only seventeen for hell’s sake. I can’t let them run my life anymore! I want out just as bad as he does, but I’m not sure I’m prepared to go through with something as stupid as this.

Maybe it’s not that stupid. Maybe we can get in and get out and never be seen again. We’ll be in a whole different country. And it’s not like they would prosecute minors for something as small and petty as this. If anything they would just charge our parents. And they deserve to pay for the way they raised us. Generation Y my ass. They just didn’t know how to handle a bunch of kids who were faster and brighter than them. It’s the technology’s fault. With information so easily accessible, we were bound to become smarter.

Screw this town and screw our lives.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Really!”

“Really. But only once. We’ll get the money, and go. But you must promise me that we will never turn back. Never miss it. Never want to come home.”

“What home?”

To find out what happens next, visit Pre-Script-tion...