Lightning, S. E. Gutierrez [best reads of all time .txt] 📗

bench. I closed my eyes, and counted. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1. When I open them, I hear shoes slapping the uneven pavement. I see James running my way. I look forward again, heave a gigantic sigh, and get up. I stumble towards him, and he slows down.

When we finally stop, we're face to face, tired, and breathing hard.

"I'm sorry," I wheeze. "I swear I could pass for Bipolar."

He coughs out a chuckle. "I swear I could, too."

"Truce?" I offer, sticking my hand out.

"Truce."


When we finally found another place to take shelter, both of us were exhausted. On top of that, it had started raining and both of us were drenched from head to toe. Our new shelter was nothing more than a shack. It stood between to looming buildings, and if either of them fell, we were toast. We didn't care. The inside of said shack was grimy, dingy, and smelly. It had two rooms squeezed into it. One a small kitchenette with a miniature dining table. The other was largely consumed by a queen bed and wash stand. The little bedroom had three doors. One door led to a closet that would barely hold a winter coat, the second door led to a mini bathroom with a small square shower, a toilet, and a cracked sink. The final door led to the alley between the two looming buildings.

I turned to Jimbo. "Well, this is just gonna have to do."

"I guess so." he said, glancing around the tiny room. "You can have the bed."

'Uh, no. You can have it." I say, a tone of finality in my voice.

"Uh, no. You get in that bed and sleep, or I'm gonna have to physically pick you up and put you in there." he threatened.

"I wanna see you try." I responded, mocking him.

I smirked, and he rushed at me. I easily evaded his predictable move, and slid away from him. He gave me a look of utter shock. It was my turn to smirk. His eyes widened. James tried his head-on approach again, but I was to fast. We played a game of cat and mouse, except the cat was a stumbling buffoon, and the mouse was the one pulling the strings. He had tuckered himself out in a matter of minutes, his eye lids drooping. Finally, he took a break.

I pointed at the bed. "Get, now."

He submitted, and plopped down on the edge.

"Good boy." I said, and patted his head.

He slapped my hand away, and gave me puppy-dog eyes. I shoved him back, and he landed with a poof on the flat pillows. He laughed.

Six

I looked at him. He actually laughed. He never laughs. He's stiff, and weird, and has no feelings. 

He looked at me. "What?"

"You, you don't laugh. You're a guard that takes his job way too seriously. You don't have feelings." I blubbered.

He laughed even harder. "Just because you don't see how I am when I'm around people I actually like doesn't mean I'm some guard without a soul."

I scoffed. "You don't like me?"

"Well, I like you now." he jokes.

"And the Magic Man has just surprised us all," I say in my announcer voice. "He has friends. Who knew?"

He jumped up. "I'm gonna get you!"

I squealed and hobbled over into the corner. He stalked forward, a grin stretched across his face. I put my arms up, and turned around, trying to hide farther in the corner. He finally struck, and lifted me up. His hands gripped my sides, and nearly flipped me over. He swung me around, and my knees curled up. I hid my face in my hands and screamed.

"You gonna take the bed?" he asked, still swinging me around.

"No!" I shouted.

He lifted me high, then pretended to drop me. I screeched and laughed.

"Now?" he shouted back, laughing.

"Never!" I squeaked.

He picked me up, and tried to plop me on the bed, but I wriggled free. I twisted out of his arms, and shoved him back.

"Stay!" I commanded.

"Ugh, fine, you win." he submits.

He peels a few blankets of the bed, and hands me a pillow. I thank him, and make myself a little bed on the floor. He checks to make sure I'm comfortable, then shuts of the light.

"Night, Sylverlinn."

"Call me Syl." I scold

"Ugh. Night, Syl." he says, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Night Jimbo."

"I swear you're dumber than a rock." he grumbles.

"I heard that!" I pout.

"Good, I meant it."

"Jerk-face." I retort.

"Moron."

"Turd burglar."

"What?" he asks, surprised.

"I win." I respond.

"Loser." he mumbles.

"You bore me." I respond.

"Oh, shut it." he grumbles.

"Even when I'm beat up, I'm more fun than you." I joke.

"In your opinion, everyone is more fun than me." he jokes back.

"Yup!" I say, popping the 'p'.

"Go to bed, Syl." he groans, rolling over.

"Fine. Night James." I respond, and pull the covers up to my nose.

Seven

When I woke up, Johnny Boy was gone, and I was curled up at the top of the bed. I stood up, wrapped myself in a fuzzy blanket, and limped out of the room. I looked around the tiny little shack and couldn't find him. Finally, I thought to look outside and found him pacing around a little ways away.

I hobbled over to him, and he stopped his pacing. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

"I'm no afraid to shank you." I grumbled.

"Believable. So, what's the plan?" he asked.

"Wait, aren't you the guard? Shouldn't you be figuring that out?" I questioned.

Imprint

Publication Date: 11-02-2012

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
For Hailey. You deal with my moody, annoying, sometimes stupid self, and I love you (as a sister) for it. You and Sarah mean the world to me.