Two Characters

Character ONE:

He was always burdened with self-hatred, a gift that no one could even match, even in the depths of teen angst. As a kid, he’d set up scenarios involving all the other kids involved in the neighborhood baseball games. He hated baseball and all sports. But he’d make an effort to invite these boys over and hang with them. Eventually, they would wander off, having nothing in common outside of the shared events of swimming in his parents’ pool. He’d run to his parents and complain of his new loneliness and they were always too busy to notice the fabrication. Even these days, after college, he would sit in his apartment and discuss the needs to leave and cook dinner and wash some clothes. But his daydreams would wander and he would see the repetition of it all and just decide not to do anything but stare at the walls. He had friends now, stronger people who could take the volleys of his personality traits a bit better then most—so he would find reasons to merely skip visiting with them, even forgoing answering the phone. All to keep the sad loneliness’ comforts in the front of his mind.

Character TWO:

Outside of the mirror the bathroom, the only thing one could fix their hair in would be their reflection in the oft polished tables and counters. The cleaning was a result of mere boredom. His whole life he had everything he could have wanted, so he never had to struggle. He thought undergraduate would have given him a chance, but when his parents saw he could get the same degree whilst living at home and saving cash, that idea was quelled. So he looked at all the people his age, like the couple that lived next door to him when he finally purchased the five bedroom, with a certain amount of awe and speculation. He felt nervous even when the invited him over for a BBQ, but he went, knowing he should try. But love? He read the poetry his English teachers provided, but they might have been written in mandarin. He had no point of reference. His only friends that were consistent were three computers. He talked to coworkers there; he spoke to his parents through them at this distance. Their lines were more comfortable then the couch, their images stronger then the nightly news.