Chapter 2
Mark Finelli
I’ve known Mark since Pre-School and from the moment we met we already loved being around each other. That may sound cheesy but it’s honest. We never really agree on liking any sort of show or movie unless it’s either one belongs to the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe). I’m pretty sure it’s placed into a boy’s DNA to like superheroes but I don’t care because it’s really only him that I can talk to about that kinda stuff. Other guys like talking about shoes brands, types of clothes, or some type of professional sports but that isn’t what either of us find an interest in.
Mark has very stereotypical Italian hair, the kind that’s all curly and dark. Almost as to purposefully max up his Italian levels, he likes to gel it back which I usually like to make fun of. His eyes are reminiscent of the dark wood that many drawers are made of that you would find in a nice looking house, the color being only just a little bit lighter than the pupils. On the left side of Mark’s face there is a scar that is in the middle area of his cheek. It’s not very noticeable unless you happen to look directly at his cheek for a full second. Mark has told me before that girls have called his scar attractive and that the girls that were looking for what he called a “mutual experience” called it sexy. It was obvious Mark did not feel the same way as these girls did about the scar.
I don’t think if there was a world where one of us wasn’t born that the other wouldn't get along with other kids. That’s why we’ve been so close from a young age, because of the fact that we are both so different no one else truly understands or relates to us.
I remember this one time in 1st grade, we both found out Tracy Witfield had a crush on me. This made Mark upset because he had a crush on Tracy. Thankfully, I wasn’t into red-heads so for all I cared he could’ve had her. This took him a good day or two to believe me but it wasn’t like some sort of break up, like I said we loved the other’s presence too much to break the friendship.
Once he finally believed me, we decided to come up with a plan to get her to like Mark. We came up with the idea that Mark could give her a flower from the grass area of the playground. Once the plan came into play, Mark gave her the flower and Tracer actually transitioned her crush on me to Mark. Afterward, they “dated” for like two weeks and I was happy for Mark. I think they broke up because Tracy felt like he didn’t give her enough attention and so she lost interest. Would it be cocky to say he gave our friendship more attention than he gave their relationship? I guess not, after all it’s the truth.
He didn’t really care that they broke up so that’s good; I wouldn’t have had to give him an uplifting talk. It was around the time they broke up that I started to become the mask of tragedy to our two masks of opera. I began to act more serious with others. That is because it was around the time my dad left me and my mother. Awkward time to leave, I know, but I can’t read the mind of a bastard. Mark was there for me when my dad left though so I felt like I could ease up to him and share how I really felt because I knew he wouldn’t tell anyone.
I used to wonder if him and I would stay friends forever. So far that still holds up and I’m actually a little surprised that we’ve lasted this long in our friendship. I’ve seen people drift apart in highschools because they meet new people, play different sports, have different classes or some other sad excuse they have to leave each other.
Me and Mark though, we’re not like that. We’re basically brothers and we act like it too because we hit and punch each other a lot but still laugh right afterward. I think if anyone else were to be my friend, it would most likely be Alex just because she’s nice to me and we talk in the hall sometimes. I should probably talk to her more, she’s pretty.
Maybe I could try getting Mark to talk to her. Mark hasn’t taken a liking to girls for a while so I don’t know if they’ll be friends. I hope they do though because I can never really talk to Alex when I’m with Mark because incidentally he wants to go somewhere else when I see her.
Maybe Mark’s gay. The hell if I know.
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Chapter 1
Alarm Clock
I woke up to the sound of my alarm. The obnoxious buzzing made me want to crush my alarm to hell. I wiped the gunk out of my eyes, my body aching from the track practice I had the night before. As I got out of bed the pain coursed through my legs. This did not provide me with a better mood. I turned off my alarm feeling irritated by the pain in my legs and ringing of the repetitive noise in my ears. I wonder if I could buy a new alarm that doesn’t make me want to punch my wall when I wake up.
I put on a black shirt with a Venom symbol on it along with some blue jeans. I walked downstairs to eat some cereal before I walked to school. Thank God my mom went out to buy some Lucky Charms last night. I could barely walk so I just laid in the back of the car while she got groceries. Maybe next time she gets groceries we can also go buy a new alarm clock.
My mom had already left for her job so I was alone to eat my cereal with Spongebob Squarepants on as loud as the T.V. would emit the noise. Spongebob has his own alarm clock that makes the sound of a ship’s horn. I think that’s kinda funny. I finished my cereal and proceeded to drink the milk. I placed the bowl into the sink and grabbed my backpack, preparing to exit through the door. I wonder if my pointlessly sore legs could carry me to school. It’s a good thing track season is almost over. So far I’ve been to every practice and it’s been so damn annoying to live after every one.
As I walked out the door I realized how far I had to walk with my legs feeling bruised in every inch of them. My God, I hate my life.
Once I finally made it to school, I saw Mark. He started walking over to me, with some kind of smirk on his face. I was frightened. What in the world was this idiot up to. He put his hand on my shoulder. I froze. Then, he maneuvered me into a choke-hold and rubbed his knuckles on my head painfully.
He let me go and right when he did I punched him right in the stomach. He receded in pain and began to laugh like a maniac. While he was laughing, he said “What’s up, loser? How you feeling after last night’s extra dose of muscle torture?” I felt like punching him again. “Well, it got worse after my alarm clock went off this morning. Sometimes I want to throw it out the window.” Mark chuckled. “I think the problem is more your anger issues than the alarm clock, Eric. You think I forgot that you punched Jason in the face for telling people you secretly thought Pearl from ‘Spongebob’ was pretty in 2nd grade? Never my friend.” with a small amount of anger I said, “Don’t make me beat you up.” We both began laughing and started to approach the doors.
Maybe the alarm clock isn’t the problem. Maybe it’s just me. As if.