Cursed Boy - a most *delightful* short story

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Cursed Boy
by Xaelifer

Mr. DeBredee wiped his forehead.
“...we’ve...uhh...been having a problem with you in class. You don’t seem to listen. It’s as if you don’t even care. We, uh, well, we hope it doesn’t develop into a problem or open a negative door for you, you know? We just don’t want a problem and you know we’re here to help...”
Mr. DeBredee stopped talking and studied the boy’s sunken head. He sniffed and continued.
“...and that’s what a faculty is for, you know, and there shouldn’t be prob...Lucas? Lucas, are you listening? See, this is a problem, and you need the faculty’s help, I’m telling you...”
Lucas looked up. “Have you ever thought, Mr. DeBredee, that faculty subsumes the word ‘cult’?”
Sweat prickled the fatty lines of Mr. DeBredee’s forehead. Not this again. Every time he talked to this cursed little child he got...frightened...
The boy’s eyes, two puddles of color, glared him right through. He could feel the eyes under his skin, in his veins, bulging his heart. Cursed little child. Made him want to curl up and die, get as far away as he could, crawl through miles of sewer water to get away from those damned eyes!
For the last two weeks - two weeks! - DeBredee had started drinking again because of those eyes. He would go out on his lunch break and get in his car and drink a bottle of vodka. The secretaries would crumple their noses when he came back and whisper to each other - harsh little words, and the drunken man’s self-esteem drained into the floor. Then his superiors would call him in and sit him down in their nice leathery chairs and quiz him with their old, hardened, chalk-white voices. “Talk to that boy, ehhhh, Lucas is his name. See if you don’t learn something,” they had said.
Learn something. Always learning something. Hello, William, ehhhh, Bob, why don’t you, ehhhh, learn something?
Well, it was a freaking school. Even the fools who ran the whole thing could learn something, he supposed. Ever since he had bought the vodka he had been using the word ‘freaking’ like some sort of
weapon.
But what was there to learn from Lucas? That William DeBredee was a no-good, sleezy drunkard in a tight cotton jacket with greasy hair, bad grammar, and eight thousand dollars a year?
Lack of respect, yes, that hit the nail on the head. Lack of respect. Good old communique criminality. Why, if Lucas were a Jew and was saying things - no, downright insulting - Hitler, he would get gassed to the seventh circle.
Yeah, but Hitler wasn’t so freaking afraid.
DeBredee forgot what he was talking to Lucas about. He forgot about everything except the half-empty Vodka bottle under his car seat.
“...geh...go back to class ...please...” Mr. DeBredee choked out.
The eyes were gone and Bob went to get a sip of vodka.

 

umm.. I don't get it.

 

I dont either, was that the end??

 

It has a flair of Chutulu(sp).
So we have the scene. A boy apparently able to make feeble people scatter. The story has potential, I think. I would appreciate to read the second phrase.

 

Guggggghhhhh....come on....
Tell me that you read SOMETHING besides Harry Potter...

 

That, my friends, IS the end of the story. If you knew a little more about introspective literature, you might know why.

Now, Mr. Archangel, if you had any basis AT ALL to say that 'this story has potential, you think', then I may care just a little about what you have to say. I'm not looking for your little literary-critique false passions, merely some judgings of what the public will think if this story is published the way it is. By 'public' I mean people who will understand that yes, that IS the end of the story.

What you have drawn and told me from the story so far lets me comprehend that your little comments should not be appraised and worthwhile to me. You have no idea what this story is about yet you flap its meaning in your own personal wind like some kind of a flag. You've assumed that there would be a 'second phrase', and you selfishly define me as this Chutulu person, which helps me in no way make the story any BETTER.

I thank you for your comments, good sir, but I don't expect any more. No hard feelings, I hope.

Why this is the end of the story:
It adds a twist, don't you think? Bob, formerly known as Mr. Debredee (a.k.a, Mr. Locally Expansive Teacher Prototype) goes to get another sip of vodka. This ending tops the story off nicely, I think, closing out the child (whose purpose is NOT to persuade people, or whatever you said, but to show a discriminally effective child in a world of teachers) and also showing the purpose of Bob. The story is based around Mr. Debredee and his opinionistic development through the story from lecturing to a sip of vodka. I think you can get more from this story than wanting 'another phase'. This is no drab fantasy ritual from some caffeine spree-d D&D game long ago. This story has very much education-bashing in it, which is the sole purpose.

Phew... There... Read it again, and see what you think after an explanation. I really didn't like that 'potential' thing, Archangel. Sorry.

 

A story, in and of itself is nothing but what its readers draw from it. Your art does not exist in a vacuum, nor should you expect it to. Are the readers to be judged because they do not understand your art, or is your art to be judged because it cannot be understood? I appreciated it, and understood that was the end, and quite effective, but that does not make it good. A majority of those who commented thought it lacked finality. Even if this can be explained by their lack of insight, it says something about the underlyings of your story. I would suggest, if i might be so bold [you know i will be] that you elaborate more on the surroundings:

Both characters appear relatively in an empty black room. There is no clue as to how musky, dusty, or old the room is, or if there are any trophies lining Bob's shelves, awards hanging on his walls- only the characters. The sweat and the snickering are nice, but they only show how Bob is being affected- not how great he once might have been. Perhaps this is the isolation you are looking for, but i think if you want to accent the decay of Bob from respectable to his current state, augment Bob's prior self a little more and place them both in a setting that stylizes their isolation in his office. [i.e. a dusky, dank office riddled with awards and the blinds drawn shut, symbolizing Bob's state of being]

Amon-Ra

 

Sorry Xaelifer, I did not have any mean motives. Now I see it was missplaced and borderline obnoxious.

I was reading it superficial from a wrong point of view. From the toppic I just thought that the "cursed boy" was the main character and Mr.Debredee was the introduction.

After reading it again with your guiding, I see it features heavy toppics such as self-esteem and consciousness( I like the Hitler comparison it adds to the understanding that Mr. DeBredee's or should I say Bob's way of viewing the world is twisted or hallucinatory).

I also like the laid back almost confusing writing style it gives the reader a feeling of Mr. Debredee's rambling world. (As if we read it from his mind. great)

Amon-Ra I actually don't think that it is important that Mr. DeBredee has fallen from grace merely that he has fallen without grace.

 

Amon-Ra, extremely wise master, thankyou for the input! This is what I am looking for! Will you 'grade' more of my stories?

 

Er Xerlifer, what is a 'Chutulu' person? i've never heard of such an expression before...

 

A take it a cuthulu person is someone attached with cuthulu e.g. someone occult.

Cuthulu is a monster in H.P.Lovecrafts horror books. see link. http://www.hplovecraft.com/
It has also been made a roleplaying game set in three time ages the 1880-ties the 1920-ties and the present age. In all three ages the players are investigators trying to solve the occult mysteries of Cuthulu before they go insane. Cursed people, cults and ancient rituals mixed with common life are the ingredients in this. Hence, the reason why I said it had a flair of cuthulu, had the boy been a maincharacter and the short story longer than this. But it is not at all so.

How Xaelifer can interpret this as a definition of himself as a cuthulu person, only he knows. *sigh*

[This message has been edited by ArchAngel (edited December 25, 2001).]