Story Synopsis : Draft Two
Charlie is sitting in he art room, painting. His brush strokes are drawn out, purposeful in nature. He knows exactly what he’s doing. A paint pot next to his work stands, leaving a cup mark where it had been on the desk. He starts to mix his next colors up in the palette next to him, a dark shade of purple. He dips the brush in the water, and then in the palette, and then goes to make his stroke, looking down at the page, and trying to figure out where he’s going to paint. As brush hits paper, a loud bang is heard at the set of doors parallel to him. A lone year 9 is standing there, looking him dead in the eyes, and laughing. He looks down at the canvas. A streak of purple runs straight through the middle, ruining any previous work that had been done.
He looks back up at where the year 9 was, and gets up, moving towards the doorway. He sees the year 9 running down the hallway at a full sprint, bolting down the hallway in recognition of what he had just done.He gets back, and looks back down at his work in misery, seeing that his work had been ruined.Charlie picks up his bag, and walks out towards the main forecourt. He sees his friends sitting on a set of benches, both people on one bench. He moves towards them, and clumsily dumps his body down onto the bench opposite. As he listens in on the conversation his friends are having, he spies the year 9 again, walking in the opposite direction, wearing tracksuit bottoms and a P.E shirt, probably just coming out of an after-school club. He changes direction, and walks with a pace towards the bench that Charlie is sitting at.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean what am I doing?”
“You’re sitting on my bench.”
“So this is your bench...”
Charlie looks at him. The year 9 stands resilient, looking him dead in the eyes.“You really want this bench?”
“Yeah, it’s my bench, so piss off.”
“But I was sitting here first... What could you possibly want this bench for right now?”
“It’s my bench, so piss off. Move yourself, or i’m gonna punch you straight in the face, you get me?”
“Well, go ahead and punch me then?”
Charlie phrases it almost like a question. He looks the year 9 dead in the eyes, as he stares right back. The year 9 cocks his fist back, and swings clumsily, but Charlie dodges out the way, looking at him the whole time. He stands, and keeps his eyes fixated on the boy.
“Well, sit down then, if you wanted it that badly?”
The year 9 sits down, still looking at Charlie.“But doesn’t the back of the seat feel a little wet? Maybe not even wet, but soggy?”
The year 9 looks bewildered, but then starts to realize what had happened in the past minutes. He stands up, twisting and turning, trying to look at the bottom of his trousers, but to no avail. He reaches down, and looks back at his hands, now covered in a dark shade of purple. “I’m going to fucking get you for this, just you watch, i’m gonna get you”The year 9 says as he gets up, storming off into the distance. Charlie looks at his friends on the opposite bench, who are looking back at him in surprise, with grins on their faces.Charlie looks back at them“you were saying?”The film fades to black.
He looks back up at where the year 9 was, and gets up, moving towards the doorway. He sees the year 9 running down the hallway at a full sprint, bolting down the hallway in recognition of what he had just done.He gets back, and looks back down at his work in misery, seeing that his work had been ruined.Charlie picks up his bag, and walks out towards the main forecourt. He sees his friends sitting on a set of benches, both people on one bench. He moves towards them, and clumsily dumps his body down onto the bench opposite. As he listens in on the conversation his friends are having, he spies the year 9 again, walking in the opposite direction, wearing tracksuit bottoms and a P.E shirt, probably just coming out of an after-school club. He changes direction, and walks with a pace towards the bench that Charlie is sitting at.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean what am I doing?”
“You’re sitting on my bench.”
“So this is your bench...”
Charlie looks at him. The year 9 stands resilient, looking him dead in the eyes.“You really want this bench?”
“Yeah, it’s my bench, so piss off.”
“But I was sitting here first... What could you possibly want this bench for right now?”
“It’s my bench, so piss off. Move yourself, or i’m gonna punch you straight in the face, you get me?”
“Well, go ahead and punch me then?”
Charlie phrases it almost like a question. He looks the year 9 dead in the eyes, as he stares right back. The year 9 cocks his fist back, and swings clumsily, but Charlie dodges out the way, looking at him the whole time. He stands, and keeps his eyes fixated on the boy.
“Well, sit down then, if you wanted it that badly?”
The year 9 sits down, still looking at Charlie.“But doesn’t the back of the seat feel a little wet? Maybe not even wet, but soggy?”
The year 9 looks bewildered, but then starts to realize what had happened in the past minutes. He stands up, twisting and turning, trying to look at the bottom of his trousers, but to no avail. He reaches down, and looks back at his hands, now covered in a dark shade of purple. “I’m going to fucking get you for this, just you watch, i’m gonna get you”The year 9 says as he gets up, storming off into the distance. Charlie looks at his friends on the opposite bench, who are looking back at him in surprise, with grins on their faces.Charlie looks back at them“you were saying?”The film fades to black.
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