Fat Boy

Another day has gone by. He comes home from school and finds that he is just barely alive. It would take a novel to illustrate the extent of sacrifice he would give to just escape the agony of school. His mother offers a dish of cookies, which has been the same ritual since his first day of misery in Mrs. Kaplan’s kindergarten class. The truth was, he never quite fit in, and he grew weary of putting his dignity on display for his fellow peers to spit on. Perhaps the cookies he munched on with great pleasure had made fitting into a pair of jeans a chore, but never did he have to work to gain that cookies acceptance for the warm, savory prize of a taste that kept him wanting more. 1

After his mother offered the dish she sadly looked at her big boy and timidly made the attempt to ask if his day was any more pleasant than the last. He looked at her with rage in his eyes and while slowly gritting his teeth he muttered, "Of course not bitch, it’s the same fucked up day after the next. Nothing ever changes". It was obvious the frail woman was hurt, and it wasn't so much by the insulting remark her own flesh and blood had said, rather it was because of the guilt she had felt within herself. 2

Many nights she would spend with racing thoughts deluding her mind of what would happen if only her baby's father were around. She felt incapable as a mother and instead of actually doing something to aid her troubled son; she instead blamed her weakness and perpetuated the problem she and her child carried. Her husband had walked out on the two of them before the boy could walk, and it was understood that the resentment the boy had felt against her was because of the fact that he had too many father figures walk in and out of his life. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know how to pick the right type of man. Innately she was attracted to the selfish cut throats that cared for nothing more than making the dough. 3

So here the boy sat fatherless, with a plate of cookies on his massive lap. He lifted each dessert to the opening of his mouth with no hesitation. Maybe he thought the cookies might leave him, just as good old daddy had so very long ago. The mother watched, and turned slowly to go about her mediocre domestic duties about the house. The boy signed online, and as he was waiting for the window to load, he picked up the china dish and licked the crumbs off it clean. He smacked his lips and ran his fingers through his silky blonde hair. His hair was by far the best feature he had. Not only was the color golden and vibrant, but the texture itself was silky and thick. He slowly dusted the cookie crumbs off of the black mound of his cotton t-shirt, cracked his fingers, and continued his business on the computer. 4

He began chatting with some girls whom he had met on the internet. He browsed this girl's pictures, Janie, and saw that she was a very beautiful. He sat in the dark room with the blue light from the computer screen that had highlighted his intent gaze as his eyes followed the perfect curvatures of her body. He began to think to himself what it would be like to have a chance with someone like her. When he went to school, all that he really cared about hearing from the other boys was their inner most desires this age of hormonal change has given them. When all the authorities and girl were not around, all they discussed was how much they fuck, what they want to fuck, and how badly they want to fuck. This is actually the only thing the whale of a boy was interested in listening to while at school. He recalled not so long ago when several of the popular jocks were huddled in a group discussing their affairs with vivid accounts. He wanted to not miss a word of their experiences and decided to perch his blubber on a desk close by. Scanning the faces of the boys he saw no difference between him and the others, except that he was a fatass who wasn't getting any, and they were athletic and getting plenty.5

"This is what high school is about! It’s all about the action, the game, the pu--" but suddenly they were interrupted by the entrance of an innocent freshman girl. "Hey man, shut your mouth”, one of the football quarterbacks said, and they all began chuckling and throwing playful punches at one another. "Yo, is it just me or did anyone else here notice the elephant sitting in the room?" This triggered a roar of laughter that erupted from the delinquent boys. Before they had a chance to say anything, he quickly rose from the chair with a heave and stalked away. 6

He was known as the silent blubber, and many rumored that the only time this unfortunate fatty would spoke was when he would belt out a cry in his sleep that sounded similar to the song of a Beluga whale. Of course this was a wild insinuation that was just made up by some spineless brat, but the pathetic kid took it to heart, but never expressed his trouble. 7