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From Goliath's Shoe

"Lord, save the scavenger, for he is fragile of body and mind..." May the call of the game, the unending test of humanity by our god, ring echoes through your hearts, for the truth of your mind and body will eventually be consumed by that same façade. The eternal underdog, slothfully disposed for millennia, shall never know the glory given to mankind. "It's about time your heart was clued in... on the contract attached to the fate you face." /// Amson Grinner will never escape from himself-- at least, not before breaking both body and mind. Every day is the same cycle, listening to his thoughts and restraining his true self behind the faces imposed upon him, the faces brought about by other's expectations of him. Hardened, selfish and guiltless... that is the truth he understands lies behind that mirror, but when presented with it, he cowers-- such a strong body yet fragile will. The nickname "Goliath", pushed deep into his past by his protective mind, will soon catch up to him, but will he face himself or be crushed by the weight of his sins? His one, true fear is losing the company of his only two friends, for if he was without them, he'd likely lose grasp of himself, reverting to these demons of his past. /// "May this game, this gift from god, bring stability to the strife of each player's existence and grant them the freedom to kill or cull to their heart's content, lest they become consumed by that same, blinding freedom."

goodeygoody · Urbain
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60 Chs

Amson, 17, "Amidst Happenings"

'How could this have happened.' I gripped the edge of my desk. 'Why??!!'

I slumped over my desk, desperately clawing at the surface in hopes that it'd wake me from this nightmare situation. My homeroom classroom, disguised as a place for learning, was actually a prison, cells sectioned off from one another. My cell mates: Tora Fletchlin and another girl who wouldn't say a word if I had a gun drawn.

Two polar opposites for maximum effect.

"Remember in middle school, Amson?" Tora rambled. "Whenever you jumped off the balcony onto the water slide? That was so cool."

And, to add insult to injury, she reminded me of the luster I'd lost. Baun was nowhere to be found in the class, and as you'd expect, no one else knew me nor did I know them. Could they not see her endless speech bubble, barely even stopping for a breath between ideas. I tried my best to keep my sanity, all the while breaking the one Tora rule.

Never reciprocate communication.

"I try not to think about middle school anymore." I explained. "I'm nearly eighteen now."

"But the memories were so fun!" She sparked with excitement. "I remember when you came to my house, too. You rode the horses and played with the cows."

That one took me by surprise.

"I-I'm surprised you remembered that." I took a moment to think. "That was a nice reminder."

"See?!" Tora's face turned red, and I could hear her breathing spike from the indirect compliment.

Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, she's not a complete idiot and listens to me for the most part. But when it comes to the mysterious goth on her side, I can't say. I'd never seen them before. They wore a beanie, a sweater with some rock band on it, and ripped, black jeans, all at the closing of summertime. It had to be breaking some sort of dress code. She had a few piercings that were noticeable on her face and body, and it was almost hard looking at her with their reflection.

'Not the most outlandish character I've seen walking around school, though, so I'll leave them be.' I subconsciously thought. 'Maybe they're just a depressed/shy type.'

Just as I ended my thought, a woman with enthusiasm to spare burst through the door, marching like a walking cartoon. The peppy, elementary school teacher type is a rarity and one of the worst types of teachers. No teenager-- well, at this point, just about everyone except for me was an adult already-- wants to be treated like a kid for their entire senior year. Since she's apparently our homeroom teacher as well, things are going in the wrong direction.

"Good morning, everyone!" She yelled with jazz hands.

Now that I think about it, only a teacher like this would put seniors in groups of desks instead of rows. As I looked around, I noticed the walls filled with inspirational cat posters galore, the cringe overdose starter pack. After seeing that, I nearly threw up in my mouth, but I had to swallow it, leaving me there, bored with a bad taste in my mouth.

I glanced up at our group as the teacher continued her welcome speech. Tora nearly toppled her seat over with how much she fidgeted and swayed, but she was quiet for a change, listening intently to whatever the teacher was saying. I don't think I've ever been in a class with her, since we met through Baun, but it was welcome.

She seemed happy.

On the other hand, was the mystery girl who stood not much shorter than Tora and I, a feat in itself. At least, she seemed like it from where we sat and how Tora looked when beside her. I couldn't hope to say definitively with how hunched over she was in comparison, a true polar opposite to Tora's posture, but it caught my attention enough that I'd forgotten how long I'd been looking at her.

Her eyes suddenly raised, meeting mine before evading, visibly uncomfortable. I couldn't help but avert mine as well and feel a bit embarrassed, stopping myself from making the situation even more awkward.

I grabbed my pencil, laid my chest flat on the desk, and twirled it around with my hand, taking my mind off the strange interaction and passing the time until homeroom closed.

///

When it comes to our schedule, the day is layered into seven sections, an hour and a half per class. With this structure, the learning experience is heightened due to courses focused on that specific subject but at the cost of having to walk between sections in order to get to the next. It's only about a five-minute period, so I've already seen kids damn near sprinting in order to avoid a detention for skipping.

If you ask me, the system was just about useless in the grand scheme of things. Sure, there are those that are here to learn, but those people are already the one's with 4.5 GPAs while those who don't give a shit are exactly where they belong, either cruising or eternally stuck in senior year. It's just become an excuse for people to get out of school for suspensions, and it shows already, having only been to three of my classes.

Butcher Cross is the bitch of Butch County, and I'm not saying that just because the school's a shithole. We're shown on the news at least once a week because some idiot does some stupid shit. This change is just one of the many changes that have been made, even before I landed myself in with the filth, so I'm just here to hope they'd decide to give up on the convenience changes and listen to the students.

But the adults are too caught up in their own lives to give a rat's ass.

"What class do you have next?" Tora asked me from my side.

"PE." I replied. "You?"

"Really?!" She smiled with a bit too much excitement. "I'm going to PE, too!"

Is this supposed to be an omen? So far, this has been my third class with Fletchlin, and it had to be PE of all things. I could only wish so much fortune on a teacher's soul while leaving some for myself. This PE is about to be... fucking hilarious.

My mind made a one-eighty without a single secondary thought. As Tora and I entered the gymnasium, I was bombarded by familiar faces. Baun, Nicky, and that one goth chick from homeroom were all there, a dream team of sorts. I couldn't help but imagine Nicky in the gym outfit, and trust me when I tell you, it's not the reason you're thinking.

That bitch couldn't run a yard if you smacked her flat ass with it.

I instantly made eye contact with her, and nearly couldn't stop myself from laughing.

"Hey!" Nicky yelled, stomping toward me. "The hell's so funny, Grinner?!"

"N-Nothing..." I nearly choked on the words I held in my throat.

She growled at me, and Baun showed up at my side, pulling me in with a friendly smile.

"Fuck yeah." He pumped his fist. "Now this is a class."

When I write I like to imagine Baun as Augustus from Prima Porta, the roman sculpture. He's intended to have a very handsome look, but with the bulk and fur of a lumberjack.

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