Golden Boy
Copyright © 2010 Lusty Library
“I don’t want to be a lawyer," Anthony shouted at his father before storming out, slamming the door behind him. As soon as he was clear of the gates that surrounded his house, he made his way to the lake. He started running; his only thought was to get away, away from his father and the house. When he exhausted his energy he slowed and then stopped. He bent over to catch his breath. He looked for a tree to collapse against, and when he located one he did just that. Sitting with his back to the tree, knees bent up to his chest, he thought about what his father had done. He had sent in applications to Universities without telling Anthony, or even consulting him. His father knew Anthony wanted to be an artist but didn’t care. They were moving next week; a month ago his dad got back from court, and told him he had taken a new job in America with some fancy law firm. “Damn it,” he said out loud, "why can’t he leave me alone?" He dropped his head on his knees. “Are you okay?” he heard someone ask. Looking up, he saw no-one in front of him, left or right. “I must be going mad,” he muttered, dropping his head back down. “Well, they say talking to yourself is the first sign,” the voice said with a laugh. “What the…” He raised his head but still couldn’t find who was talking to him. “Up here,” ...
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“I don’t want to be a lawyer," Anthony shouted at his father before storming out, slamming the door behind him. As soon as he was clear of the gates that surrounded his house, he made his way to the lake. He started running; his only thought was to get away, away from his father and the house. When he exhausted his energy he slowed and then stopped. He bent over to catch his breath. He looked for a tree to collapse against, and when he located one he did just that. Sitting with his back to the tree, knees bent up to his chest, he thought about what his father had done. He had sent in applications to Universities without telling Anthony, or even consulting him. His father knew Anthony wanted to be an artist but didn’t care. They were moving next week; a month ago his dad got back from court, and told him he had taken a new job in America with some fancy law firm. “Damn it,” he said out loud, "why can’t he leave me alone?" He dropped his head on his knees. “Are you okay?” he heard someone ask. Looking up, he saw no-one in front of him, left or right. “I must be going mad,” he muttered, dropping his head back down. “Well, they say talking to yourself is the first sign,” the voice said with a laugh. “What the…” He raised his head but still couldn’t find who was talking to him. “Up here,” ...
Get The Full Story At Lusty Library
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