This is just a random story I decided to make, because I was thinking about making this story for quite a while, and I have arranged all of the story parts. I will finally get to get the story off my chest, instead of pondering it and wasting time to get to school, and ending up late due to a story I want to write about. Please do be critics, critics are the things that make stories, movies, and other types of entertainment better! Also, if any parts you did like, please say so! I would not think anyone would press the sacred “I Like” button for this story, but I do hope this will atleast get good views, and atleast 1 “I like”.

I hope you enjoy it! 0: -)

I also don’t have a title for this story, so refer to it as “The Story, by Dest1.”

Also, I can’t finish this within one story, so there will be two.

The Life of a Bowmen will be postponed until further notice. (Besides, no one reads it…well, a certain amount of people do.)

And if a way a person speaks doesn’t look very intelligent, that is a way to write how people want to talk. So if a person speaks like Eminem in his raps, and says it wrong, then it’s the way I want them to talk in the dialogue of this Story.

Also, I don’t think this might be Maple-Related. I will try to fit in some Maple stuff, but that’ll make this story longer, when I have another story to take care of. Like I said, I want to get this off my head.

All characters in this story are false. Please remember these notes, and have fun reading!

I was walking down the street. I didn’t know where I was going, I let me legs walk my way to what was coming. I wasn’t paying attention to the world, my mind was completely submerged in thought, like I was a person who was under a river of thought.

I was thinking about the recent events of the city, where a new mayor came in, he wasn’t a very good mayor, because he supported not having a safe city for the people of MmoT,Ales. He supported crime, he supported violence, and his family didn’t have a clean record. His name was also Bob Joeingtogoerotoradeyi.
I didn’t know why he had such a long last name, he changed his last name…his former last name was Crimy. He probably thought that his name would give away his unclean record. He won in a close race, against a guy who was a hippy…his motto was “Peace and Wuv, Don’t Pull a Gun”…he also said “70’s man!” alot.

I was broken out of my trance when a soccer ball conked me on head. I heard some kids curse, and I felt an adult hover over me as I fell face-first onto the concrete sidewalk. “No cursing kids!” said the adult. “Oww…what hit me?” I said to myself. I saw a soccer ball beside me, and a searing pain on the left side of my head. My curiousity forced me to touch the spot on my head where the ball hit me.

I touched that part of my head, and I felt a bump on there. I also felt more pain sear through my head as I took my hand off the pain, quickly as possible. “Uuugh…” I felt like someone threw a rock at my head, I think you know how that feels like. “Holy Fruit,” said the adult, who was now right beside me. “What a huge bump!”

My nose was also bleeding, from when I on my face. Blood started to stain my shirt, and blood started to stain the sidewalk. Having a big bump on your head that feels as if… as if a soccer ball hit you on the head hard…which a soccer ball did do. Also having your nose bleed, and having heard your nose crack, is not a good sign.

“Are you okay?” said the adult. I pulled my face away from the curb and faced the sky. There was a man blocking the clouds and the sun. He was kind of hefty, a bushy moustache, and bald. He was wearing a silk shirt under an unzipped wind jacket. He was wearing sweat pants, and some Adidas. I binked several times before I realized who was talking too me. It was the man who ran against the present mayor. I know, I know. How can such a heffer of a guy be a hippy? It just doesn’t seem likely. Well…he’s a fat hippy ok?!

“Umm…no im not. My head felt like a soccer ball hit me hard, and I my nose is bleeding. I also think I fractured my nose.” I said, matter-of-factly. “Yes, you aren’t alright. Your nose doesn’t look that good either. Your nose does look like Owen Wilson’s nose, too,” said the adult. “By the way, I am Mr.Gellan, I ran against our present mayor and lost.” I looked at him, squinted, and did realize that he did in fact, look like Mr.Gellan. I knew how he looked like because he ran commericials on television, while the present mayor did the newspapers.

“Uuuugh…” I groaned painfully. Two kids had runned over to the sidewalk. Passerby and onlookers on the other sidewalk walked and looked on curiously at why a fat man was bending over a kid. Cars driving by also started to drive slower when they came to the block where I was beamed hard by a ball.

“Kids! Say sorry to this poor child! Espiecially you, Derek! You too Gavin!” said Mr.Gellan, turning his blue eyes away from me to his sons. as Gavin tried to sneak into an alleyway, and hide. Derek and Gavin were twins, there looked almost the same as Mr.Gellan, except much fitter, and much skinnier. And also a full head of hair. “Tell me, what is your name?” said Mr.Gellan, turning his eyes back to me. “My name is Xavier…” I said, still groaning.

I sat up, touching my nose. It felt like it was pushed sideways, and it also felt bruised. Blood was still making steady streams of blood coming out, except slower. My whole shirt was red, while the back of my shirt was spotless…my shirt was white by the way. My head pain started to cease a bit, but still pain lingered, and a bump was still there at the spot where the soccer ball hit.

The boys had apoligized to me. I didn’t care, I was focusing on my nose. Mr.Gellan decided to bring me to his car, which there was a mirror. He took it out of the trunk, and gave it to me. I looked at myself in the hand mirror. My nose was kind of pushed down, and fractured. My face was red with blood just like my shirt. I also saw the bump on my head, it was a bump like the size of a baby mouse.

Mr.Gellan asked me something, but I couldn’t hear…well, I was semi-listening, because I was still looking at my nose in horror. I heard something along lines of “food”, and “family.” I think he said about taking me to his family for dinner. I said I would think about it, and he drove me home.

This is the end of the first part. I know it only focuses on his face, his clothes, and about the ball. I am sorry to tell you this for the thrid time, but I needed to get this off my mind. PLEASE!!! do not get angry.

If you do, ill give you a piece of cheese. U.U