May Day Rendition Rough Draft


On a foggy Sunday morning, on the outskirts of the city, A man named Doug was driving what looked to be a Mercedes. It actually was but it was in desperate need of repair. Doug was frantically pulling out all the loose ends on his suit, but it was just making it look more ratty. He pulled to a squieking halt outside of a house that looked almost as bad as his car did.
Hey Grant, long time no see, he said to himself while practicing what used to be a well rehearsed and bright smile, his smile was just another thing that had faded. No, that would never get me through the front door. He sat in his car rehearsing his lines for another five minutes before he gathered the courage to talk to him. When he got to the door he knocked, composed himself, and tried to seem calm. The door opened a crack.

"Hey Grant lo-" the door was abruptly shut in his face. "Hey, Come one Grant!" he exclaimed, pounding on the door. "I drove all the way across the country to talk to you." The level of distress in his voice was enough for him to merit another crack of the door.

"What," said Grant bluntly.

"I came to say I was sorry, what I did is imprinted on my conscience."

"I'm flattered, you're forgiven," he said with a more than noticeable undertow of sarcasm. "Now go away!"

He tried to slam the door shut again but Doug stepped in front of it. Not a good move on his part, but he did get in on account of his cracked ribs. Grant dragged the whimpering Doug onto his couch and went into his fridge.

"Here," Grant threw the icepack at Doug's face, he caught it but reeled in pain when he lifted his arms.

"Ow," said Doug "reminds me of senior year homecoming."

Grant couldn't help but reminisce. Doug was on the varsity football team, Grant didn't play any sports but him and Doug played a game with a couple other people after the game. Somehow Grant tackled Doug, and broke two of his ribs. Doug spent the rest of the night in a wheelchair trying to pick up chicks with it for Grant. It didn't work well for Grant but for Doug it worked miraculously.

"That was hilarious, but once again, you took the girl." Grants smile quickly faded at the thought.

"I'm sorry! I've lost it, gone off the deep end. I'm suffering from insomnia, I'm schizophrenic, neurotic, all because of what I did and I feel terrible for it."

"Why the hell should I forgive you, give me one good reason."

"Well, I'll give you a few. One, I drove all the way here from California. Two, you probably broke my ribs again with your door."

"You stepped in front of it!"

"Three..." His mind had already wandered to the scar still prominent on his right cheek. " Well we both know what three is."

"You deserved it."

"I guess so..."

"No, no guessing. You know how hard it is for me to get a girl, and this one really liked me, she was perfect. But you couldn't be satisfied with every other girl in the f-ing entire state, no, you needed mine and no one can resist your stupid f-ing charm."

Doug was immediately regretful of the scar he had given him 5 years ago on the night he had learned of his friends betrayal. His effort to drink himself to death was interrupted by Doug, so Grant broke the bottle and slashed his face.

"I hoped you were just drunk. But I guess you would've done similarly without the drinking. I guess I'm done here."

"Can you get the door?"

"I don't think so."

As Grant opened the door he felt sorry for his washed-up friend, he wanted to say something but he was tongue-tied. All that was left of Doug in Grant's quiet, lonely, house was another missed opportunity.