Flash Fiction contest entry - 300 words or less. |
“Listen man, I know it's hard,” Mike sympathized. “But you gotta do it, Jack. For your own sake.” “Nah man, my parents, friends, family. Everyone's gonna know.” Jack said. “Where would I be then? It ain't my fault.” Jack was comatose. His head was angled downwards and he barely held up his sagging shoulders. There was a dreamy quality to his voice too; distant – murky. Shaggy brown hair hung over his eyelids, covering part of his face. He liked it that way. He needn't face the world. “Listen, Jack.” Mike continued. “Come out with your hands up, bro. Ain't nobody gonna laugh. For cripes-sake, this ain't the forty's! And look at the size of you.” It was true. It wasn't the forty's. It was 2012. Everybody was doing it; coming out. Coming out with how they were gay, bisexual, transgender - you name it. But in Jack's case, well he was a bully, and a coward. No one liked a bully. No one sympathized with a bully. No one cared about a bully. And though he was tough and mean on the outside, on the inside he was more like the Pretzel Man. Weak. Vulnerable. Breakable. “Where do I start? Who do I tell? What good will it do?” Jack asked, more to himself than Mike. “At the beginning bro. Start there. It'll be alright, you'll see.” Mike said earnestly. “Okay then. Okay.” Jack resigned. “I'll do it.” He extricated himself from the weaving of a plastic wicker chair with a thluck sound, and sluggishly strode to the centre of the group. Jack looked forwards, brushing his hair from his face. Slowly, and with a tear in his eye, he said, “Hi everyone. My name is Jack, and I'm a bully.” 298 Words. |