As he plodded down the picturesque row of mansions and trees, the only sounds that could be heard, aside from the occasional grunt of exertion, was the passing cars, the chirping of the birds and the perpetual clomping of his black boots. It wasn’t a terribly long walk from the city-bus stop to his house; it had just been a terrible and long day at school. His pace was quick and when paired with his long strides, he could get where he needed to be before he realized he had got there.

It wasn’t easily apparent from looking at him, just how tired he really was. Under the unreadable, emotionless look on his face, lies the pressing desire for the peace of solitude after a long day. Unseen, laced within the strong, swift strides of the young man, is a mindless monotonous pattern. One foot in front of the other, not wanting to go any further, not able to stop moving. A closer inspection would reveal just how mentally and emotionally exhausted he was underneath the mask. A nap was starting to look really good right then…

Turning the final corner onto his street, the burdened figure dragged on. His backpack – no, his onus - weighing him down every step of the way. His loose blue jeans, filled with the trappings of modern life, key chains, house keys, money, bus tickets, lighter, and a wallet. In addition to the creature comforts and useless junk, hidden within his large black leather jacket: a Discman with broken earphones; 3 CD cases; a mini-Frisbee; a cell phone (surprise); and a deck of cards he got talked into buying, now with the 2 of hearts gone missing. Then there was the onus… the boulder of a backpack. It’s hard to believe that so many little pieces – a few books, binders and paper - could add up to such a planet-sized burden. This is the heavy price of knowledge.

Advancing forward and lost in thought again, he snaps out of his mindless trance at the sound of a loud motor coming down his street from behind him. The sound was received, converted to information, processed and thrown somewhere into the recycling bin of his mind. Not even bothering to turn around to visually acknowledge the presence, he slipped into his trance once again, and droned forward, towards his goal… Home.

He frequently peered into the diminishing distance towards his home, with specific attention paid to the driveway. What is sitting in the driveway could determine the rest of the day. It could make a bad day like today worse, or it could cease its downward spiral and soar upward into a fine evening of peace, music and quiet reflection.

The moment of reckoning appeared sooner than he anticipated as he rounded the hedge of the neighbouring estate. His heart and mind rose to new heights as the weariness, which was worn deep within the marrow of his bones, finally began to recede. With freedom, control over his own actions, and nobody to answer to, the possibilities are endless. The driveway was gloriously empty of cars.

Another sound quietly slipped into his head. This time it was a soft, purring engine. It was a more familiar sounding engine. It was a wretchedly familiar sounding engine. The sound worked its way from being received to being converted to information, where it promptly halted. It didn't quite reach the comprehension stage. The sound never made it to the esteemed level of ‘consciousness, attention and rational thought’. It sort of hovered around, in a state of cat-like readiness, within the sub-conscious, waiting for the moment that it could be utilized appropriately by his temporarily depleted higher brain functions.

He entered his home… and was surprised to greeted by his sister. She could be a wildcard in the grand scheme of today’s ultimate happiness, but she seemed to be in a good mood, so thoughts of impending doom were temporarily put on hold. Breaths between her chattering allowed him time to unload his daytime gear and try to enjoy the available freedom while it lasts. He was about to take a much-deserved nap when two words she said caught the attention of his higher brain functions almost immediately.

“Report Cards?”
“Yeah, you know those things that tell us how well we’re doing?”
“Or SHOULD be doing anyway…”
She sighed, “You really should try harder. You know he won’t be pleased.”
“Oh, Really? Tell me something I don’t know.”
Gaping open-mouthed, she stuttered “don’t you fear the wrath of D_d?”
“Why should I? “
She stood up straight as she recited ‘”… and D_d spake unto us, thou shalt not underachieve any grade below an 85…”’
“I know how it goes…”
‘”The breaking of this holiest of commandments,”’ she continued unabated, ‘“shall result in social castration and heavy theocratic interference in the dealings and affairs of the sinner”’
“I said I KNOW how this goes! Don’t you think I haven’t heard it a hundred times more that you have!?”
“Well none of it seems to be sticking. You know what your problem is? You have to realize he’s acting in your best interests. He’s thinking of you. D_d just works in mysterious ways.”
“Well I’d rather decide for myself what’s best for me! I don’t need him telling me what to do all the time! I’m sick of him always acting like he knows everything! The concept that I might be right and he might be wrong never even crosses his mind! I can’t even begin to describe…”

He stopped. He slowed down and regained his faculties. He walked around, stretched out and rubbed his eyes to try and calm himself down… losing it like that made him nervous…

She released her clutched hands, and the feeling came back slowly. He hadn’t touched her, or even raised his voice that much, but when she saw his eyes, she was afraid for a second. When she was sure she could walk without wobbling she took a step forward to attempt to talk to him again, and after an uncomfortable silence, she continued

“He loves you, he just wants you to do well and be successful”
“I know that… but what about what I want? Shouldn’t that matter? I don’t know. I DO know that I don’t want to be like him, no matter what I do.”
“Well, you’ll have lots of time to think about it while you’re in social purgatory.”
“Yeah”
“I think I just saw him pull up in the driveway…”
“I already knew he was here.”
“You ARE going to show him you’re report right?”
“Yeah”

She paused.

“Then may D_d have mercy on your soul…”


(would it be better if i just removed the talking part altogether? maybe try and conclude it with more narrative?)