Izzy

Vance is going to be so goddamn fucking mad. Bruce thinks, staring at the new high score on the pinball machine. He had just beaten Vance Hopper at pinball, and Bruce knew he had it coming. No one ever beat Vance Hopper at pinball and only one kid ever tried it, but he was never seen again after that day.

Bruce was shaking in his shoes, hand clenching the joystick. The raven-haired boy was starting to panic. How could he be so stupid? Why didn’t he just give up when he got near Vance’s score?

The faint tingling sound of the doorbell opening awoke Bruce from his thoughts, and he spun around to see who just entered the Grab’n’Go.

It was Vance Hopper.

Bruce smiled at Vance, trying to use his charm to let him get off easy. Vance ignored him, pushing Bruce aside to get to the pinball machine. Seconds later, Vance turned his head to look at Bruce;

“Did you beat my fucking score?” Vance hissed, eyes seemingly piercing Bruce’s soul.

Bruce said nothing, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

“Well? Don’t you fucking ignore me.” Vance growled, crossing his arms.

“…Yeah!…” Bruce squeaked out, shaking in fear. He had just beaten the one and only Vance Hopper's score.

Vance mutters something under his breath, kicking the machine and staring down at Bruce’s feet.

“Don’t let me catch you beating it again, got it?” Vance scowls, his cheeks flushing pink as he meets Bruce’s gaze.

Bruce nods quickly and sprints out of the store as quick as he possibly can, feeling surprised that he even made it out alive.

A gentle breeze drifts through the air darting through thin branches, rustling amber leaves hanging on by a thread.

Bare branches wave down to piles of rotting plants and fragile leaves, the ancient tree standing tall amicably. Their gallant structure stands strong against the harsh weather, ever watching repetitive change to the world around them.

The hazy sky is dreary with colourless clouds hiding the sun, enveloping the shrouded world above. Below lies the obstructive and begrimed roots, protruding from the muddy ground and inhaling cold autumnal air.

The gentle breeze glides towards the towering tree I desperately cling on to, the looming threat of being snatched away with it ominous.

The gentle breeze brushes past me, knocking me off my course and sending me into an oscillating path downwards towards other leaves that have suffered the same unchanging fate time and time again. I descend leisurely, brushing up against the hard bark of the tree I once clung on to. The bark is damp, mossy fungi growing up from the trunk of this ancient tree, clutching at anything to avoid being pulled away.

Other leaves gently decline to the muddy ground, accepting the end of their short life. I attempt to ascend to the branches I used to grasp at, sharp movements upwards towards peaceful refuge.

Bruce was riding his bike home from his baseball match, which his lost 7:14. Bruce knew he had been distracted from his game recently, since his boyfriend went missing around a week ago. Vance was supposed to meet Bruce in the park after school, but never showed up for their date.

As the Grab 'n' Go came into view, Bruce slowed down to a halt and left his bike outside the store.

The raven-haired boy walked inside, trying to ignore the pinball machine that his boyfriend was glued to 24/7. Bruce takes a quick look at the high score, smiling softly as he sees that Vance's high score is still the top.

He walks to the cold drinks isle, picking out a diet coke and paying for it at the counter. Bruce unscrews the lid, taking a sip. The fizzy metallic taste fills his mouth, and Bruce gulps the soda down eagerly. He was parched, since he forgot to bring water to his baseball game. Vance always used to bring Bruce a cup of water, since he knew Bruce always forgot to.

Bruce finished off the can, dumping it in the trash can outside the store entrance. Plastered on the windows of the Grab 'n' Go, was a bunch of 'missing' posters of kids who had gone missing recently. The first poster Bruce saw was Griffin Stagg's, a kid in the 6th grade who went missing over six months ago. The second poster Bruce saw was Billy Showalter's, who was in the 9th grade. Billy delivered papers to the Yamada household daily, until his disappearance four months ago. The last poster, the newest one on the window, was Vance Hopper's. Bruce stared at the picture of Vance on the poster, and read the information below. Vance Hopper, 173 cm, age 15, last seen 16th July.

Bruce felt his heart tearing in two. He had tried to ignore the fact that Vance was missing, but this poster just proved the fact that Vance was missing. Like the other two boys, he might never come back. Bruce might never see Vance in his math class again. He might never see Vance playing pinball inside the very same store that his missing poster was hung up on. He might never meet Vance in the park after school again. He might never see Vance again.

Bruce breathed in sharply, jumping on his bike and cycling away as fast as he could, blinking away the tears in his dark brown eyes. He sped through the neighborhood, enjoying the wind rushing through his hair. After half an hour spent riding around his whole neighbourhood, Bruce eventually slowed down and parked his bike in his garage.

Bruce unlocked the front door, slamming it behind him and locking the door. He walked up to his room, gently shutting his bedroom door and sinking down onto the floor, allowing a few tears to escape.

Bruce wiped his eyes, trying to control his shaky breaths. I will see Vance again, right? Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe Vance just left Denver for a while? Vance was okay. Vance was going to be okay. Bruce reassures himself, his breathing slowing down to a normal rate.

☆ sandcastles

“Hey you!” Someone called to a six-year-old Finney from across the playground, pointing at him.

Finney looked up from his collection of sandcastles he was building, upset to be disturbed from creating his masterpiece.

A small group of boys came over, around three or four, and stood infront of Finney.

“I’m going to stomp on your stupid sandcastle, and there’s nothing you can do about it!” One of the boys yelled, jumping onto Finney’s small collection of sandcastles.

Finney said nothing, staring blankly at the now-crushed sandcastles that he had spent nearly the whole of recess creating.

“Hey!” Another kid called out. Finney recognised him, as the boy was in his class. The boy walked over to the small group of bullies that were still crowding around Finney.

The boy pushed over the tallest kid, the bully falling over onto his butt in the sandpit. The other bullies scarpered, not wanting to be pushed over by this terrifying six-year-old.

The boy stuck out a hand to help Finney up, glaring at the bullies as they ran away.

“I’m Robin!” The boy announced, showing off his missing front teeth as he grinned at Finney, who just looked slightly confused by the whole situation.

“I’m Finney” Finney mumbled, grabbing Robin’s hand and helping himself up from the sandpit. He brushed himself off, before looking up at Robin and muttering a ‘thanks’ with the brightest smile he could muster.

“We should be friends!” Robin declared, “Best friends!”

Finney nodded, grinning at the six year old boy opposite him.

“Wanna build sandcastles with me?” Finney asked, holding up his plastic bucket and spade to the raven-haired boy opposite him.

Robin nodded, eager to start building sandcastles with his new best friend.