Patience and perseverance had known each other for a long time. Years and years.
They'd first met at the bus stop to go to school. Patience's dad tagged along every day, making sure his kid safely got aboard the bus. Perseverance had grown accustomed to doing most everything by themself. Independence is nice, yet lonely.
They had no classes together, and perseverance didn't like people sitting next to them on the bus. So they rarely spoke, except in small, "hello!"s and "Good morning"s. And the occasional "bye!"s, "good afternoon"s.
On the first day of middle school, they still shared the same bus stop. But something changed. Patience's father walked her to the bus stop, but he no longer stayed. Perseverance seemed more approachable. More comfortable with themself.
Lacking someone to ramble to, patience decided her victim would be the perseverance, who already seemed annoyed by by the mere fact that she was so happy and talkative so early in the morning.
"Hello!" Exclaimed patience, "how are you? Why is your face like that? Why aren't you happy to be here?"
Perseverance covered their eyes for a moment. They were trying to think of excuse not to talk to her but lacked one.
"It's just early. How can you dare to be like this right now? What did your dad put in your breakfast red bull?" They asked, voice tinged with tired ness and an annoyance that patience was not yet accustomed to. Patience grinned anyway, padding perseverance multiple times.
"You're just a Grumpy Gus, that's okay, I'm going to make sure today is the best day ever for you. We're gonna be bestest friends ever." The shorter kid rambled, bouncing excitedly as they waited for the bus. The taller kid resisted the urge to groan.
"Best friends are for people who lack intelligence." They say boredly.
"In- tell-a-gants?" The shorter girl asked, bewildered by the word. "How'd the gants get in the tell?" She asked, grinning crookedly. Perseverance rolled their eyes. It had only been 10 minutes, but they had had enough with this girl. They tried to relate silently for the bus, but the girl kept rambling.
She rambled on and on and on about sports, about her favorite colors, about her new school supplies about this about that. About what subject she's excited for this year? About all the favorite things that she's going to enjoy. Oh, did you hear that this year they replaced one of the teachers?
Perseverance own patience grew thin. They sighed with relief when they saw the bus, quickly climbing aboard. They headed to the back so they could get a seat alone. But patience had followed them once again, unfortunately. She sat beside him and didn't leave them alone until they got to school, even desecrating one of their new notebooks with a sticker. Thankfully, they had different first period classes. Perseverance had never been so thankful in their life to get away from someone.
This became routine. They'd wait for the bus, get on the bus, and ride it together until they got to school. For the first year, they didn't have class together. And yet patience still managed to endeared themselves to pet perseverance. Perhaps it's because she didn't treat them any differently than any other person, unlike their classmates who had started to.
Middle school, they quickly found out that they were considered 'The Weird Kids' for stuff they couldn't help. Like for having a single parent and being a little bit chatty, or the cardinal sin of wanting to be yourself. It was all the same to the other kids who had a particular way they wanted their social structure.
That was fine with perseverance and patience. They became their own social structure. They became each other's friends instead of wanting to be their friends.
By the end of middle school, they decided they didn't want to be separated. They were inseparable always with each other. Always at each other's houses, they were practically siblings.
Despite living so close to each other, they realized that when they got to high school, they wouldn't go to the same school because of how the districts were set up. This was simply unacceptable on many levels. So, to avoid the inevitable, they tried, studied, and did their hardest work to get into private schools to get scholarships to go anywhere as long as it was together.
They still thought private schools would be terrible. But at least it'd be a type of terrible they could manage together.
But sometimes, even when you try your hardest and do your best, you don't always end up with the outcome you want.
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*peeks out from behind the curtain* heyyyyyy
if you have NOT been rendered sick and tired by my incessant daredevil-posting on this fine day, then you may be interested in this lil thing i made (and will continue to make for many moons to come)!
summary below:
It happens like this:
The pain erupts along every synapse, like each nerve has been lit on fire and set to burn, and Matt crumples in on himself. In one ear, he listens as Hell’s Kitchen explodes simultaneously into a compressing silence and a cacophonous chaos. In the other, Foggy and Karen are telling him to breathe, breathe, please just breathe. But he can’t. He can’t.
His bones are splitting apart—
No. His bones are atomizing. They are disintegrating.
Their heartbeats thrum together, faster and faster and faster until the silence consumes and then—
—Matt stumbles forward and lands hard on his hands and knees.
And he is here. It’s only been a second.
But Karen and Foggy are gone, and they have been for a long, long time.
[ or: matt gets blipped, and karen and foggy are left behind. five years later, matt finally comes back. ]
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