Fireworks

                                        Fireworks

Paul was like any other fourteen year old, trying to get girls to notice him, especially one, Nikki Bowen, she was the most popular and best looking girl in his year, the only problem is that she didn't know he existed.
'I've tried every trick in the book to get her to notice me.  But she doesn't even know I exist,' Paul complained to his friend sitting next to him.
'Give up, find someone else.  You must see by now that she doesn't like you,' said Patrick.
'I suppose...  Tell you what.  It's almost bonfire night, lets get some fireworks, that should impress some girls,' Paul said.
'Sure.  You get them, and then meet me in the park tonight,'

Paul arrived at the park around five o'clock. He entered through the main entrance.  He paused when he got in and looked around, his eyes fell upon the swings, where two girls were sat talking, he moved to approach them, then stopped, I'll wait for Patrick he thought, then continued on his way.
He was extremely nervous, constantly looking around, thinking everyone was a mugger or a murderer.  His eyes fell upon some kids playing football, an argument had broken out between them, his eyes left the kids to a man walking his dog, the dog had escaped from his owner and started chasing the ball.  Paul heard the crunching of frozen leafs from behind him, he swung around.  It was Patrick.
'Where've you been?' Paul asked.
'I'm sorry; I didn't know I was on a time limit.'
'Oh it doesn't matter; come on there's a couple of girls on the swings near the main entrance.'
'Hold on, lets drink this first,' Patrick said holding up a bottle of white lightning.

After drinking the whole bottle, they stumbled over to the girls that Paul noticed on his way in.  While Patrick immediately started chatting them up, Paul started setting off the fireworks.  He first set off a rocket, which shot into the air and exploded into a fountain of colour.  As the show started to fade, the remaining bits of firework made a crackling noise.  He then got a banger out of the box and lit it, he held onto it for a few seconds then threw it, it landed some distance away and exploded, the two girls clapped.  High on this praise and drunk he immediately got another banger out of the box and lit it, he held onto it for too long, no sooner had he threw it, it exploded, it was too close and Paul, Patrick and the two girls were badly injured.
When Paul came around, he was in hospital; his mum was sat at the side of his bed reading one of her romance novels by Mills and Boon.  She immediately looked up, as soon as she saw he was awake, she shouted for the doctor.
The doctor walked over to Paul's bed and shined a small light into both his eyes.
'Have you got an head ache?'
'No, but my face is a bit sore.'
'I'm not surprised, after what happened.'
'Will he need more surgery?' Paul's mum asked.
'No, we've done all we can I'm afraid.'
'So he'll be scared for life then.'
'Yes I'm afraid so.  I'm sorry but I must go, if you need me to answer any more questions I'll be free in a couple of hours.'
'Thank you doctor.'

Paul's mum had been out of the room for fifteen minuets when he got out of bed.
As he stood up, he almost fell back onto the bed, he felt so dizzy, his head felt like a feather, he turned and looked into the mirror hanging over his sink.  Looking into it he realised what he had done.  Staring back at him, on the right hand side of his face was a scar that filed the whole right hand side, a very red, lumpy and rough scar, which still hurt like he had just put his head into the flame of a gas cooker.  He started crying as he got back into his bed.

Paul entered Patrick's private room, walked over to his bed.
'Patrick.'
He turned to look at him.
'What do you want?'
'I...  I,' Patrick started but before he could finish, Patrick's dad walked in.
'GET OUT!'
'But...' Paul began, but Patrick's father interrupted.
'Get out of this room before I throw you out.'
Paul turned and exited the room, tears flooding his eyes.  He made his way back to his room.
His mum turned to him as he entered the room.
'What happened?'
'Patrick's dad wouldn't let me see him.'
'You'll have to give them time.  Their still angry.'

Two weeks later Paul plucked up the courage to go around to Patrick's house and see if he would talk to him.  He noticed he was nervous and hesitant.  He had to know if he would be his friend and talk to him again.  He stopped because he was sweating like a pig, should I go back and put some deodorant on, no don't be stupid, you sound like your going on your first date, with that thought he continued to Patrick's.
When he got to Patrick’s house, he reluctantly knocked on the door.  He waited for a few seconds until someone finally opened the door, it was Patrick.
'Not you.  What do you want?'
'Just to talk, to apologise,'
'Don't bother,' Patrick slammed the door in his face.
Paul turned, and walked home.  When he arrived home, he immediately walked up stairs to his room, his mum notice and followed him up.
'He still won't talk to you then?'
'No.'
'Give it more time; let him make the first move.'

It has been three months since Paul went to Patrick's house, and he hasn't seen him at all since.  He has give up hope that he would forgive him, and has been harassed from hi ex - friends, and fellow students.  At one point, it got so bad he thought about committing suicide.  Knowing how bad he felt his mum sat him down and asked if the trouble at school was getting too much.
'It's not just that, people in the street keep staring at me.'
'I can help with the problem at school by asking the principal to transfer you to another school.  But you'll have to get used to the looks in the street because they will never go away.'
'I know but it's hard.'
She looked at him and noticed a tear fall from his face.
'There's nothing I can do or say to help, except that given time you will get used to it,'
'Thanks,' he left the room.

The next day his mum talked to the headmaster, who agreed to see if they had a place for him at St. Mathews, he told her that he would phone her in a day or two.  She and Paul waited patiently for two days, until he finally phoned her and confirmed that they had a place he could fill at St. Mathews, and they agreed to take him.  They arranged to transfer him in two weeks time.  At last, he could start the healing process.
It was hard at St. Mathews because they also stared at him, and they had heard about what he had done, but a few kids that thought he had paid his dues with his face so badly scared, so they made friends with him, and helped him with the bullies, which helped him get over what had happened and get back to normal, or as normal as he could under the circumstances.