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Rated: E · Short Story · Teen · #1636040
The final straw in the life of a victimised boy.
There are some things everyone says they’ll do someday. They never do, though. I’m the exception. I’m going to dedicate my day to those things I’ve always wanted to do, but always been held back from in some way or another. And I’m going to start by meeting my favourite band.

I’m lucky on this one. Distasteful Shadows aren’t a band known by many, and they’re local too. I looked down at the piece of paper in my hand one more time and stared up at the red brick house. It had a white picket fence, and a stone pathway leading to the door. It was idyllic, and it didn’t look much like the home of rock star Dylan Harvey I’d pictured. Either way, I jumped the fence and pressed the doorbell firmly; and luckily Dylan answered the door. I recognized him from the beard and the long shaggy hair; it matched exactly to the photos I’d taken of the front man at the concert last month. I wasted no time letting him question my identity.
“My name is Andrew Perry, and I have dedicated today to doing things I’ve always wanted to do. Distasteful Shadows are my favourite band, and meeting you is first on my list,” I blurted out. His expression was a little bewildered. He was just as taken aback by my confidence as I was.
“Come in,” he offered.
I sat on the pale blue sofa sipping at my glass of water. Ciaran Jones, the bassist, shared the house with Dylan, so I got the chance to talk to them both. They sat opposite and relaxed into their seats as I perched on the edge of mine. It had taken me the best part of half an hour to ask them everything I wanted to, and to be honest I thought that was all there would be to it. But to my disbelief, they’d decided they had questions to ask me, as well.
“So, kid, you want a job in the music industry when you grow up?” Dylan asked, comfortable in conversation.
“I don’t want to grow up, really,” I replied.
“What? But you’re 16! Surely you have some rough idea?!” Ciaran fired .
“Nope.”
“Wow, kid. You have a lot to think about in the next few months…” Dylan sighed, leaning back into his chair. I suddenly felt uneasy. I set my glass of water down on the glass table and stood up.
“Thank you so much for letting me meet you, it has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember. You’ve really made my day, I’ll never forget this. Keep up the good work, guys. Keep kids smiling and keep their futures clearer than mine. I best be on my way now, though,” I smiled through gritted teeth. Dylan and Ciaran stood up and shook my hand in turn, then ushered me out the door in due course.

As much as I’d loved meeting them, the future was the last thing I wanted to think about. So I moved on down my list. Next, I went to my local shop and bought every packet of jelly they had and made the biggest dessert you’d ever seen, and ate it faster than even I thought I could. Then I went back to my primary school and played on the adventure playground like I was seven again. I felt young, free and careless. Just how I’d planned to feel.  When it got dark, I lay in my garden and used my astronomy book to find stars, patterns and planets. When it got cold, I made a campfire like I’d always wanted to. And when it burnt out, I used the homemade lantern I’d never come around to using. When it got cold, I went inside and did the penultimate thing on my list.

I wrote a letter to my family and told them everything I loved about them. Then I wrote one to every individual friend of mine. Then I wrote one more, to Evan Dill. I told him how he’d ruined my life. How he’d made me feel like dirt every single day since he came to my primary school when I was eight and made me have to listen to my Punk-Rock CD’s secretly, because I knew he’d pick on me if he found out what kind of music I was into. I told him how I hadn’t eaten dessert after he called me fat. I didn’t forget to inform him that I still grimaced looking back at being the only kid sat on the bench at break time after he took over the adventure playground.  I reminded him that I hadn’t looked at the stars after he called me a nerd for doing so. I let him know how I hadn’t ever been camping, even after me and my dad made lanterns so we could go, because he said he’d hunt me down. I told him how much it had hurt when we moved up to secondary school and he’d singled me out to every one of his friends, and made sure they made my life hell too. I finished by congratulating him on winning, and used a Distasteful Shadow lyric: “If you can’t grasp the pain, let go.”

And then, after the happiest day I’d lived since I was eight, I did the last thing on my list, which I’d written as that same lyric. I felt the chill of the metal against my temple dig into my heartache as I whispered ‘goodnight’ – and a bullet later, Evan Dill’s prayers had been answered.
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