In 11th grade I wrote this short story and my teacher (Stokes, you were amazing!) really enjoyed the characters. It's not the greatest short story ever made (I'm no Kafka... not yet anyways) but I like it enough:
Death of the Gods
The first thing that everyone learned about on their first day at Bridger High School was who Aaron Kard and Clyde Stedman were. Their faces, their names, everyone in the school knew who they were and what they looked like. This was not because they were idolized by the students of Bridger High, it was because you never wanted to be the one to foolishly cross their paths.
No two people were ever as hated and loved as Aaron and Clyde. Aaron was now a senior in the school and well known for his arm. His left arm was completely dead, he had no feeling within it whatsoever. It merely hung in a sling each day, it was revered as a symbol of his greatness. He was wise far beyond his years, a savant among the mist of mindless baboons, and a teacher as well as a friend. However, he demanded respect from others, and he was not accepting of disrespect in any way. He was also quite harsh with his words towards those he disliked, or those whose actions he disliked. Simply put, you wanted Aaron to like you, or else you did not want to be seeing him closer than twenty feet from you.
Clyde was well loved, but for different reasons. He had spiked blonde hair, blue eyes, and was very muscular. These features alone won him the love of most of the young ladies that attended Bridger High, as well as it sparked the flames of hatred that the men felt towards him. Of course not only was he handsome, he was exciting and dangerous. If he was angered he was quick to react although slow to think things out. Usually Aaron had to step in his way and remind him of what he stood for, backing Clyde down. Clyde would back down each time without fail, Aaron was the only person that scared him, and as such he had great respect for him.
The two were usually seen together as a pair, although they never walked together. Clyde was always a step behind Aaron, always watching. Though students wondered what the two spoke of it was clear that Aaron was tutoring Clyde in his ways. He was the master, Clyde was his apprentice.
The sight and the rumors and stories of these two gave them a fierce image to newer students. However, to those who had been at the school for a time, they were greatly respected for their good deeds, and at the very least they were feared.
***
It was just another day in Bridger Creek Park for Steve Larker. School was out for the day, and now he walked across the crisp, green grass up the large hill that was located near the river. It was a daily cycle for him, his chance to escape the pressure thrust upon him from his classes as well as other students. Steve looked like any average student, just a little smarter than most, and for ten dollars he would do your schoolwork for you.
It had first started off when a student had pleaded with Steve to help him with an essay that he had forgotten to do, and that he would be unable to do due to a football practice that would run late. Steve gladly accepted out of the kindness of his heart, and he had flawlessly imitated the other student’s style, granting the student an A. It was then that Steve got the idea that he could do this for his main source of income, just doing a few essays here and there. Then it turned into an obsession. The money was just too easy to get, and he was getting very large sums of it. Things had been going well for him. That is, until Aaron found out about it.
Steve had known Aaron for quite some time, they were friends in a way, yet they rarely spoke to each other. They merely acknowledged each other in the hallways, but Aaron always seemed to be around when Steve needed him.
He had the utmost respect for Aaron, and his head had hung low as he was greatly chastised for his ways. Steve had stopped then and there, and instead he spent time at the park to keep himself away from the temptation. Money had become quite important to him over a short time, he had to stay away from all of the offers in fear that he would cave in. That was something he did not want to do, he did not want to invoke Aaron’s anger. There were those that accepted Steve’s decision, but there were others who felt he owed it to them, as well as those who felt they shouldn’t have to pay for his services.
“Steve!”
Steve slowly turned around and froze as a group of four guys walked up the grassy slope towards him. He wasn’t concerned with the three of the men, only one of them, the one up in front. Those icy eyes, the thin lips, a smug look on his face. Those strong features could only belong to one person.
“Seymour,” Steve backed away from him. “What do you want?”
Seymour stopped a few feet before him, his cronies staying a few feet behind him. His eyes were closed, they usually were when he spoke to other people. It was though looking at the person he was speaking to would taint his superiority, and Seymour Reese was always showing his superiority to other beings on the planet.
“What I want,” he spoke slowly, refined in his manner. “Is what I paid for. I pa you money, you write my papers. It was a simple arrangement, but you seem to have forgotten all about it this past while Steve.”
“Look,” Steve felt sweat on the back of his neck. “I don’t do that kind of thing anymore…”
“Must I remind you of who has made many large contributions to you in the past, as well as a few extra dollars here and there?” Seymour slowly opened his eyes into thin slits, irritation clearly shown in his voice.
The three cronies all chuckled together as they cracked their knuckles slowly, intimidating Steve even further. Seymour stopped speaking after those words, as he usually did. This signified to the person that Seymour had selected to bully should fall to their knees and either give into his demands or plea for forgiveness. Doing anything other than these two options meant hat you would be given a new look due to Seymour’s three underlinings.
“Well, I… I suppose that it wouldn’t hurt, just to do it for you,” Steve gave a wavering smile, intimidated yet almost happy to be in the situation. He could never deny that he always looked forward to Seymour’s payment.
“Excellent,” Seymour closed his eyes again. “Of course you’ll be receiving no more pay from here on out.”
“Pardon me?” Steve snapped back.
Seymour’s eyes snapped wide open. “Dare you raise your voice to me? You are in my debt, not the other way around.”
Steve’s anger faded as quickly as it had come. “Seymour, I’m…”
“Perhaps you need to be reminded of whom you are speaking to,” Seymour snapped his fingers, never taking his eyes off of Steve.
Steve backed up, begging as Seymour’s lackeys walked towards him like guard dogs, and cackling like jackals. As they came closer he toppled backwards onto the ground, and he shielded his face for the incoming blows. However, they never came.
As Steve opened his eyes and looked up he saw Clyde holding Seymour up against a nearby tree by his collar. The three guard dogs stared at their master helplessly, unaware of what to do. They dared not advance towards Clyde, especially with a scowling Aaron in their way.
“Well?” Aaron asked.
“Well what?” one asked, nervously.
Aaron’s eyes grew angrier. “What were you doing to my young friend here?”
“I was getting him to hold up to his end of a bargain,” Seymour called to him as he stared coldly at Clyde. “You know that honoring your promises is important, yet your lackey is attacking me.”
“Shut your trap hot shot,” Clyde imitated Aaron’s scowl, thought it was not as intimidating. “We already know that you were threatening Steve here to assume his old habit.”
“His habits are not my problem, but my agreement with him is you worm.”
Clyde pulled back a fist, ready to remove the cynical smile from Seymour’s face. However, Aaron grabbed Clyde’s arm and pulled it down, stopping him. Then he told him to place Seymour down as he did, reluctantly.
“If you cannot control your anger than you are absolutely useless here,” Aaron chastised him. “If you want to make good judgments you must do so with a clear mind.”
“Yes Aaron.” Clyde looked down.
“Ah, how I admire how you have trained your obedient dog,” Seymour sneered.
Before Aaron could react, Clyde had already made his move. He held in his hand a small switchblade, the gleaming, silver edge pressed up against Seymour’s throat. Seymour’s eyes darkened as he glared at Clyde, a dark hate emanated from him.
“Clyde!” Aaron snapped, “Put that away now.”
Seymour’s lip curled. “You may wish to listen to your master you dog. He is wise while you are foolish. And he who heeds not the words of his master is very deserving of punishment.”
“You call me a dog again and I’ll cut out your tongue!” Clyde retorted.
Aaron’s strong hand came upon Clyde’s shoulder and he shook his head at Clyde. As Clyde looked at him he gave a sigh and put the knife away, walking to were Steve was with his head bent down in shame.
Seymour turned to Aaron. “Are you quite done yet?”
“No,” Aaron said. “You are not to bother Steve again. Should you do so then I won’t stop Clyde from living up to his threat.”
Seymour closed his eyes. “As you wish.”
Aaron nodded and looked at the three men behind him. They divided immediately and allowed Aaron to walk by without uttering a word. Aaron strode over to Steve and helped him off of his feet. He smiled as he gave him a small pat on his shoulder.
“I’m glad that you stood up to him,” Aaron said.
“Thank you.” Steve said, shakily.
Aaron turned to Clyde. “As for you young one, you’d be wise to listen to me the first time I speak. Do not upset Seymour, he is quite the dangerous man.”
“I’m not afraid,” Clyde spat.
“You should be,” Aaron cautioned. “Don’t get in his way, his anger will subside in time.”
“Fine,” Clyde turned away. “Let’s just get out of here. You can come too Steve.”
The three began walking away with their backs turned towards Seymour. As they walked away he glared at Clyde, rubbing his throat where the blade had been.
“You all right Seymour?” one of his friends asked.
“That beast insulted me by touching me.”
“Want us to mess him up?”
“Please,” Seymour placed his hand into his jacket. “I’ll take care of this myself.”
From his leather jacket he pulled out a small handgun. He carefully aimed it at Clyde’s back and smiled. He waited for a second, and then he made the shot.
Before Seymour’s finger had pulled the trigger, Aaron had turned around to see to it that they weren’t being followed. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the gun he knew who it was aimed for. He shoved Clyde aside as the gun went off and the bullet cut through the sky with a loud scream. As Clyde rolled down the hill he looked up to see Aaron. His eyes were wide open, and he was falling down to his knees.
Seymour holstered the gun, tucking it away in his jacket, and smiled as he turned to his friends. They all stared at him with wide eyes. Seymour merely shrugged and began to walk away from them.
“Seymour.”
He stopped. “Yes?”
“You… you just shot a man.”
There was that silence, the sign that Seymour would not speak and that the one who had addressed him had little time to come up with an apology.
“Well, it’s just that,” he stammered as he tried to think of what to say without offending Seymour further. “You’ve never done anything like that before… It’s just not like you.”
Seymour slightly turned his head so that they could see one of his eyes and a part of his mouth. His lips were pressed into a thin smile as his dark eyes glared at him. “Then pretend that I didn’t do it.”
He turned and walked away, his men slowly following. Meanwhile, Clyde and Steve were bent down besides Aaron on the other side of the hill. His consciousness was fading quickly as blood was coming out of the wound, staining the grass that he was laid upon. Clyde had tears in his eyes as he stared at his fallen friend, the one who had become like a father and brother to him. Slowly, Aaron spoke to him.
“You… need to… control,” Aaron’s eyes stared blankly at the sky. “Your… anger.”
The words came out hoarse and pain filled. It was clear that they would be the last words to ever escape from his mouth. Clyde put his head down, pounding the ground as he cried out in harrowing pain. All of the while Steve looked at Aaron, not believing what he saw. It was as if it wasn’t real, as if this was all fake. Aaron was without doubt the backbone of all that was right. It wasn’t possible for someone like him to die, not like this. It didn’t sink in, it couldn’t sink into his mind.
***
The funeral was gloomy and dark, on day with gray clouds and pouring rain. Steve and Clyde were the only students to be in attendance at the funeral, the rest of the school had not heard the news yet. They sat quietly there, watching as his casket was lowered into the ground, the pain finally sinking in with Steve.
“He was always a hero,” Clyde said. “He was a hero even when he was young. When he was only twelve years old he was caught up in this giant car accident on the highway. Cars were piled up, burning, and flipped over, it was a disaster. Aaron got out of his car, dazed, and he stared at a car with the front crushed in, the two passengers dead, and it was flipped over.
“He assumed that all of the passengers inside were dead, then he heard a call, a cry. He walked to the car and pulled a young boy out of it. Then they began to walk away, and as they did the car exploded. Aaron was quick though, he covered the younger kid with his body, taking the blast, getting dozens of metal pieces embedded within his skin. He went into intensive care, and after the pieces were removed he was told that he would have no use of his left arm.”
Steve looked at him in surprise. He assumed that very few people knew why Aaron had lost use of his left arm, it was a story that he had never heard before.
“Stupidest thing is that the kid he saved ended up being the death of him.”
“You mean that Seymour was the boy he saved?”
“No you idiot,” Clyde said. “I was the one he saved.”
There was silence for the rest of the ceremony.
***
Clyde had disappeared from the earth for an entire week after the funeral. It wasn’t until Steve was taking one of his walks in the park when he saw him next. He had intended to stay away from Clyde for some time. However, something had caught his attention.
“I’m quite surprised that you didn’t come after me for revenge,” Seymour approached Clyde with the three men behind him, Steve observing from a distance away.
“I’ve thought about it,” Clyde clenched his fist as he looked upon the man who killed his best friend. “But I think that I’ll take the high road?”
“So that would mean turning me into the police for killing Aaron?” Seymour laughed. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”
He snapped his fingers and his three friends surrounded Clyde. Two of them grabbed and bound his arms so that he couldn’t move as one cracked his knuckles, sneering. Clyde didn’t move, only glared at Seymour in bitter anger.
“I won’t stoop…” Clyde began to say, but Seymour hit him across the face, silencing him.
“You’ll never be Aaron you dog.” Seymour smirked, closing his eyes. “Take care of him.”
As soon as Steve saw the first punch thrown he had his cell phone in his hand and was dialing 911. As he spoke to dispatch he watched in horror as the one man began to beat Clyde with all of his might, Clyde refusing to fight back. His eyes turned black, his lips cracked and long streaks of red came down his face, blood staining his blonde hair.
The man stepped aside as Seymour reached into Clyde’s pocket and flicked open Clyde’s switchblade. He then proceeded to thrust it into Clyde’s side, causing him to cry out in pain. He then twisted and thrust it further into Clyde’s stomach, and Clyde fell to the ground, the three men laughing.
Steve wasn’t sure what happened next. First he was speaking to dispatch, and then he was dropping his phone as he ran down the slope towards the scene, and then suddenly stopping as he was staring down the barrel of Seymour’s gun, the gun that had killed Aaron.
“Everyone is just playing Aaron today aren’t they?” Seymour snickered. “Don’t you fools realize that you’ll never be him? No, you’ll only share his fate.”
“You’re right…”
Everyone turned to see that Clyde had amazingly rose back up to his feet as was staring at Seymour, clutching his bleeding wound where the knife was located. Seymour stared at him, and for once it was that same fear that he showed when he looked upon Aaron. All of the men backed away slowly, not wanting to interfere.
“What do you think that you are going to do?” Seymour asked.
Clyde clenched his fist. “Doing this my way.”
His hand came up, faster than lightning, hitting Seymour across the jaw. As it collided there was a terrible snapping sound, causing all of the people present to shudder in fear as Seymour fell to the ground like a pile of lead.
Seymour’s friends ran away quickly as Steve stared down at the bone that was now protruding from Seymour’s jaw. He shuddered and looked to Clyde who had fallen down, laying sprawled across the ground on his back, eyes tear filled and looking up into the sky.
“May my blood condemn him…” Clyde muttered.
“Clyde,” Steve began as he knelt down beside him. “Police are coming, we’ll get you fixed up.”
“Blast it you idiot, I’m not gonna live much longer,” Clyde said. “No, now… I’ll get to see my brother again. Aaron had taken me under his wing after that accident, trying to calm my anger while parenting me in a way, keeping me safe. Now all that I can think of is that he is better of dead, as am I. Viewed like gods, dying like rodents, a suitable end for our kind.”
Steve was about to tell Clyde not to give up, but it was too late, Clyde had given up the ghost. Steve stood there, again not able to comprehend all that had occurred just now. They truly were gods among insects, and yet they had been trampled under the feet of the insects, dying in their divine cause. It didn’t feel possible, it didn’t seem right. And so Steve shed no tears, felt no sorrow, he only remembered that they had watched over his school for a short time, and that all that had happened now was that they had moved to continue to watch the same school for all of eternity.
