Rise of the Storyteller 36: The Beginning of My Life

“If you make them leave, all of them, you can do anything you want to me all night.” It’s probably three o’clock in the morning, and this is Trashy’s last effort. Trashy is a girl who knows she’s hot. She’s been convinced by every man who ever touched her, every boy who ever looked at… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 36: The Beginning of My Life

Rise of the Storyteller 34: One Last Bite

There was a pounding on my door that didn’t wake me from my stupor. Its suddenness, its violence didn’t alarm me or cause me to jump. I took it as easy as the next breath. And though the pounding on my door was oppressive and angry, it was almost as if I had been expecting… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 34: One Last Bite

Rise of the Storyteller 26: Less No More

You gotta understand, she had done this before. In seventh grade, I had a friend. Best friend. Well, what I thought was a best friend, named Blank. One day he had a birthday party at his house. The entire church youth group was invited and we all came. There was hair band music. Cake and… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 26: Less No More

Rise of the Storyteller 24: Pop

Sixth grade in Slinger came in roaring. Girls, jacket, middle school, Ruffle, X, Grr, Jazz, G.I. Joe and Way Cool Junior. However, when I got to Waynesville, Missouri, and went to the last two weeks of sixth grade in a totally new school, with totally new kids, in a totally new town, I found it… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 24: Pop

Rise of the Storyteller 23: The Broken Boy

Of course, it all fell apart. It would be years before I found that sort of happiness again. For three months, Jazz and I were the second-best couple in Slinger Middle School. They were, at that point, the only three months of my life worth living. She was my first happiness. Our story was cut… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 23: The Broken Boy

Rise of the Storyteller 21: Young Guns

X pulled his knife and stopped at the car parked outside the bar. “What?” I said. It was dark, it was cold. We had just trashed someone’s house and I wanted to get home. “I’m stealing this,” he said. I had no idea what he was talking about. I looked carefully and saw a blob… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 21: Young Guns

Rise of the Storyteller 20: The Bus Ride Home

I started to stuff my break up letter in my pocket but felt the ID in there and kept it hidden in my hand. I walked out of first hour and into the hallway to see Island waiting for me. “What are you doing, Mr. Brown?” She held a finger up at me and shook… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 20: The Bus Ride Home

Rise of the Storyteller 19: A Stolen ID

“Absolutely not, Joe,” Jazz said. She stepped in front of me in a cloud of girls, right after I stepped off the bus, and she looked up at me. I was for my feet. My eyes, my heart, my body seemed stuck on the ground. “This is how you lost Ruffle,” Jazz said. It was… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 19: A Stolen ID

Rise of the Storyteller 17: Bonnie

Climbing the cedar was the worst part of the morning. Cedar trees are not strong. Not this kind. They are whips of things, and bendy. The leaves, if you want to call them that, are more quills than leaves at all, small, sharp, and tough enough to slice like blades. I got gloves for Christmas,… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 17: Bonnie

Rise of the Storyteller 16: The Darkness of Slinger Middle School Part 2

There is a chapel somewhere that had its ceiling painted by a guy, I think his name was Mikey. Well, there was this priest who really hated Mikey. Tried really hard to get him fired, tried to get him in trouble. This priest was a dick and he was fucking with a painter. A good… Continue reading Rise of the Storyteller 16: The Darkness of Slinger Middle School Part 2