I Want To Go: A Narrative Fiction
I had been only 13 when I decided I wanted to make money. That was an easy thing to do, as all young teenagers have desires for things, and money is mandatory to buy such things. It was especially easy for me to decide this as I could see my family was struggling. But deciding you have the want for money, even if you have the will to work for it, and actually feeling the cold hard cash in your hands are two very different matters.
I should really start this story with my first job, teaching guitar to a boy in my neighborhood at 10$ for a half hour. It was good money, but also thankless, as the mother expected to have a fully functional rock star when I was done, and the child preferred to do nothing at all. That occupation was short lived, …show more content…
He said “You know like a really cool lookin’ dragon!” even though I had already showed him three sketches, all of which he had dubbed ‘Pretty cool’. I was going to ask him to get specific, as my professional façade was quickly fading. He finally settled on ‘that dragon from the hobbit, I suppose that one was pretty cool.’ And I ran with it, furiously sketching, all sorts of scenes and poses for this specific dragon. Ideas rolled of the pencil like water rolls through a river, that night I burned graphite for coal, and ink flowed like …show more content…
And he said that he would have the money next week, but that he definitely wanted to buy it.
Two weeks later I texted Forrest about the drawing, and he said that he had half of the money and that “I don’t make as much money delivering pizzas as I thought I would.” But he said he would give me half, and then the other half later. I readily agreed, to which he replied “Leave the car window cracked, and I’ll slip the money in there.” Why there had to be a ridiculous dead drop, as if we where dealing with something illegal, I don’t know, but I still complied, and asked my mom to leave the car window cracked that entire week. Still no money came. I was now whishing that what we where doing was illegal, as fear keeps most illegal business agreements intact, and I would have mafia thugs to go steal al of his money for giving me the
I should really start this story with my first job, teaching guitar to a boy in my neighborhood at 10$ for a half hour. It was good money, but also thankless, as the mother expected to have a fully functional rock star when I was done, and the child preferred to do nothing at all. That occupation was short lived, …show more content…
He said “You know like a really cool lookin’ dragon!” even though I had already showed him three sketches, all of which he had dubbed ‘Pretty cool’. I was going to ask him to get specific, as my professional façade was quickly fading. He finally settled on ‘that dragon from the hobbit, I suppose that one was pretty cool.’ And I ran with it, furiously sketching, all sorts of scenes and poses for this specific dragon. Ideas rolled of the pencil like water rolls through a river, that night I burned graphite for coal, and ink flowed like …show more content…
And he said that he would have the money next week, but that he definitely wanted to buy it.
Two weeks later I texted Forrest about the drawing, and he said that he had half of the money and that “I don’t make as much money delivering pizzas as I thought I would.” But he said he would give me half, and then the other half later. I readily agreed, to which he replied “Leave the car window cracked, and I’ll slip the money in there.” Why there had to be a ridiculous dead drop, as if we where dealing with something illegal, I don’t know, but I still complied, and asked my mom to leave the car window cracked that entire week. Still no money came. I was now whishing that what we where doing was illegal, as fear keeps most illegal business agreements intact, and I would have mafia thugs to go steal al of his money for giving me the