I saw some of the boys on the street and met a few of them on getting there too, while most of them were gathered probably playing some sort of games- gambling, doing my thing.
Their hideout was quite an insular from the town eastwards, just across the lake was a beautiful field blessed by nature, on the far left was a thick forest,
endeavored to walk through it some meters away as I found myself amidst these beautiful trees with endearing serenity even the chirping of birds makes it more fantastic and the natural air flooding the woods is good enough to relax you and spur on an exhilarating sensation, making you relief some nerve you’ve strain and cheer up delightfully.
Not me! Perhaps, not this time I guess,
Stomped my way through, I saw him on a stool beside a Teak, a few boys hanging around too.
Bunch of idiots! I thought as I approached, they had deliberately chosen this site to escape to when they committed their goddamn crimes, hang on till the tension died down, silly souls,
they really took their time to build a home down here,
living like vagabonds!
And they’ve got a considerable, perhaps good reason for that.
Whenever they were hunted down to this spot, they would disperse farther into the woods, which makes it unfeasible for people to track them down.
“Jude! What the hell just happened?”
I yelled at a seventeen years old Jude, with the body of a bodybuilder (looks like it though, a lot is going on at their hideout) about 6ft tall (just an inch or two taller than me though) in his straight fit jean and the sleeveless zip-up hoodie, with a cute gallas haircut.
He sat in a relaxed position like nothing had happened, stretching out his legs,
he stole a look at me,
and squeeze vigorously on the orange he was sucking.
“Jude, what did you tell me before we set out to pluck fruits in that old man’s garden?”
Trying to sound casual:
Remembering Jude is not one to chicken out on threats or eruptive people
I demanded from my friend furiously…
Because that was never the plan, and I knew for sure Jude was not always an honest pal.
But as avaricious as Jude could be; it never crossed my mind that he could try to fool me into my own foolery as I was too dumb to think everyone is like my dad.
Suppose someone seems to care, and always showed up to lend you a hand, rescue you by any means possible, and understood your plights are worth being your best friend even.
As much as I needed a friend irrespective of gender,
since I had been mending my heart for better sane stability and repressing the weaknesses of my temperaments to enhance my tolerance to fit in with the society’s standards,
I knew making friends would be necessary because leaving my past life behind had encapsulated me with a detestable life of boredom: not like when you are a feared and respected villain in the plot.
And talking of keeping friends, only a space for one I’ve got and it has been confiscated. Thenceforth, no longer do I care to create another for a myriad of reasons.
Considering this inexplicable friendship aspect, my take on it was making it a medium of expressing gratitude and reciprocating Jude’s altruism, thing is, although I never thought I would be immersed in it so extensively that I had to make a fool of myself.
Things I hate about Jude and his group, include nuisance constitution, expensive tricksters they were, stealing into people’s homes stealing valuables, foodstuffs, and so on…
Without remorse! As a juvenile contemporary, you don’t fight one of their men and go scot-free. You’ve got to prepare for a sequel! (Shouldn’t have mentioned that, for fighting, amuses, and holds my interest, in fact, I would love to be omnipresent at all fight scenes in the world if possible.
That, I think should not define me as an eccentric, who else doesn’t feel entertained by the physical power display).
Most of the time they do get away with these godawful plans but their plans do go south too.
They got punished accordingly but these delinquents will never learn their lesson or heed the advice.
Putting my best into abstaining from him and his transgressing squad most of the time, yet, he knew how to get to me.
The immense pressure of measuring up to today’s living standard and the thoughts of building a social value is becoming more and more unfeasible diurnally, whilst from dusk to the very middle of the night I possessed an undisturbed freedom of fantasizing about living the most extravagant life even the most privileged are yet to.
Poor me, bereft of privileges. What could I have done, can’t help but get into trouble, I am dubbed the village rascal.
But despite my frequent attempts to be logical and exhibit ethical principles, it mystifies me, how incongruous my individuality proved in the society.