Log in

No account? Create an account
Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan

> recent entries
> calendar
> friends
> profile
> previous 20 entries

Thursday, November 8th, 2012
8:44 pm - Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan: Chapter 170.6
dgb90000 Kevin Shapiro just stood there, the Sugar Bowl clasped tightly in his blood-soaked hands. All around him, the fire continued to rage, consuming every last shred of paper, every last document and every last book contained within the secret library of the underground bunker where he had spent the last three months living off military MRE's and irradiated water. He had read in a book once that people in fires usually died of suffocation before they burned to death - or maybe his father had told him that, back when his father had been working for the Volunteer Fire Department - back when he and Kevin's mother had still be alive. 

At Kevin's feet lay the shattered corpses of the the three children he had just slaughtered with a pair of rusty garden shears and a plastic coat hangar: the little baby girl with the curiously sharp teeth, the nerdy-looking boy with glasses and the pretty girl with her hair tied back to keep it out of her face. 

He hadn't meant to hurt them - not really - especially not the girl with the ribbon, but Kevin had completely lost control of himself when the girl had started screaming. Looking back, he couldn't really blame her - he must have looked like something out of a nightmare after eating all of that contaminated food and water for so long - and the weeks of isolation, darkness and malnutrition had probably driven him half-mad long before the siblings had discovered the bunker.

All the same, Kevin hadn't meant to hurt them - and he hadn't meant for that match to slip from the dark-haired girl's fingers and land amid a pile of dust-laden documents and arcane tomes - a word which here means really, really, really old and probably unfathomable books. He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn't sent the boy reeling into the wall, where he had tumbled face-first onto a damaged pipe sticking out of the concrete. What would have happened if the little baby girl hadn't leapt for his throat, forcing him to strangle her with the coat hangar? What would have happened if the sobbing, hysterical girl hadn't charged him, insensible to the fact that had been holding a pair of garden shears out in front of his stomach.

Maybe he wouldn't be here now. Maybe he and the girl and her siblings would be somewhere far away from here. Maybe he and the girl, whoever she was, would have been alone together - and maybe Kevin would have finally had his first kiss. Looking down at her still corpse, her skin glowing hot amidst the encroaching flames, Kevin felt suddenly aroused. 

A final wave of shame and frustration passed over him, and so it was, that Kevin Shapiro, boy orphan, virgin, murderer and pervert passed out of this life - literally - in a final blaze of glory as the last few precious breaths of oxygen were consumed by the flames. 

(1 comment | comment on this)

Thursday, December 14th, 2006
1:01 pm - chapter 752

At first glance Kevin Shapiro looked like any other student at Gavin Gunhold High. He showed up for class more often that not, had his own little click of superficial friends and took part in school sponsored activities. But Kevin had a secret, a dirty little secret that was soon to be the death of him. See after Kevin’s Father died and his mother got sent to prison for embezzling funds, Kevin’s sister, Isabel took up heroine to dull the pain. Heroine is a harsh mistress and Isabel hardly had enough money to pay the rent on their crappy little apartment in the bad part of Washington DC. Kevin had been forced to get a job to support his sister’s drug habit. After all, Izzy needed the drugs, the drugs made everything okay again.
So Kevin got a job. There weren’t many places that would hire a sixteen year old without any discernable skills, but using the connections he got from his sister’s dealer, he got a job as a call boy. It was alright at first, he didn’t even have to sleep with anyone at first. They paid him just to look pretty and do mundane things. But then the drugs Izzy needed got more and more expensive. Kevin had to start “working harder.”
Soon he meet a certain politically well placed male customer who took a liking to Kevin. He asked for Kevin all the time and soon Kevin was seeing him every night. Kevin grew very close to this customer and started to have feelings for him. Kevin would spend class time day dreaming about running away with him and leaving the slums. They’d be so happy together, Kevin just knew it. That night as Kevin lay in his arms, basking in the afterglow, Kevin’s lover told him how he was running for re-election soon. He’ll be on the campaign trail and out of the city. Kevin, worried, asked if he’d see him again, after he was re-elect. The congress man looked sad, “no Kevin, I’m afraid I can never see you again, think of what the public would say if they knew I’d been sleeping with a young male prostitute. I’d never win my re-election campaign.” Kevin cried and cried. Since it was their last night together, he told Kevin he could stay till morning. After Kevin had fallen asleep, the congress man reached into the bed side table and retrieved a syringe full of a lethal dose of heroine. After shooting Kevin up, he left, secure in the knowledge that no one would know his shameful secret.

(comment on this)

Thursday, November 9th, 2006
1:40 pm - chapter 36,826 "Nothing Ever Changes"

Kevin Shapiro was depressed. It seems like he was always depressed. He'd been kicked out of school for smoking the the parking lot. He's parents, well, father and step-mother, kicked him out for getting kicked out of school. His little sister has just cried when she'd heard about the smoking. “but you promised me you'd quit” she said. Kevin didn't have a good answer to that. He's meant to quit, he really had. Anyway it's not like getting kicked out of school really mattered. He was going to drop out sooner or later. His grades weren't that hot and he wasn't really learning anything useful.
Now that he was on his own, living on the street he didn't really know what to do. He should have been cold and hungry, he hadn't eaten anything in a couple of days and it was snowing. But Kevin Didn't feel anything. He was just kind of numb as he sat there on the street corner watching cars and people go by.
When was first kicked out on to the streets by his parents he'd planed to die in some horribly theatric way, then they'd be sorry. They'd all be sorry. But in the couple of weeks he's been living on the streets it all ceased to matter. His parent's betrayal, his sister's despair, his shattered hopes for the future, he began to realize how meaningless it all was. As Kevin sat there, numb and removed form the life around him it all began to make sense. The pain, the isolation if he just thought about it for a little while longer, it might all fall in to place. Right before his thoughts had a chance to solidify a hand reached out to him, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Kevin? It's me Dad. I'm so glad we found you. We want you to come home. We spoke to your principal and they're willing to let you come back. Everything can be just like it used to be.”

current mood: depressed

(comment on this)

Thursday, November 2nd, 2006
2:28 pm - chapter 796,375

Kevin Shapiro, boy orphan was feed up. He was tired of the looks of hate the passers by gave him. He was sick of being spit on when ever he walked down the street. The whole town knew his dirty secret. He could never escape, never lead a normal life.
Kevin Shapiro only had one option. Kevin returned to the scene of his shame, the children's petting zoo. It was late at night. He was all alone, save for the animals who slept around him. He looked up at the stars hiding behind the clouds knowing that this was it, no one could stop him now. As the moon came out from behind the clouds the change took over him. He could feel the his body changing, his bones breaking and reforming themselves. Fur started growing all over his body. Then as suddenly as it the change had started, it stopped.
Standing in the middle of the petting zoo, bathed in the moonlight stood Kevin Shapiro, boy Opossum with a death wish. Sensing a disturbance in the force, the lone predator in the petting zoo emerged from it's den. The large wolf scanned the enclosure and spotted Kevin. With a single leap it pounced on Kevin snapping his neck in half. In a few minutes the wolf was done with his midnight snack and returned to his den.
The next day the town would wonder what had happened to Kevin Shapiro, the most hated boy orphan in town, but soon they would forget and life would continue.

(2 comments | comment on this)

Sunday, July 30th, 2006
12:12 pm - i wrote another one!

Kevin Shapiro
lonely child prostitute
He will die alone.

(1 comment | comment on this)

Monday, February 6th, 2006
9:00 pm - a haiku

Kevin Shapiro
pathetic, sad boy orphan
is hit by a truck

(3 comments | comment on this)

Saturday, June 18th, 2005
8:00 pm - Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan, and the Leviathan of the Deep

Kevin Shapiro, boy orphan, stood on the deck of the Queen Alexandria and looked out to the vast sea before him. This week was his tenth aboard the merchant whaling ship and he was actually starting to enjoy the seafaring life. The older, more experienced men had given him a hard time at first; in fact, he had lost his left ring finger and suffered numerous abrasions on his face and torso the second day aboard, when some of the sailors thought it would be amusing to strike at him with the thick deck ropes. But after Hobbs, the first mate, had been devoured whole by a school of rogue sea bass, they lost interest in making his life hell.

Kevin Shapiro was looking at the reflection of the full moon on the ocean's surface, feeling somewhat content with his lot in life. He missed his mother, to be sure, but he believed that she was happier walking the streets for money than she had ever been with his alcoholic father. He enjoyed this time of night, when he could gaze out on the water and collect his thoughts. This whaling life ain't so bad, he thought to himself, a fellow could do a lot worse than good meals and fresh sea air. He was resting his head on his arms when suddenly he saw something rising from the water.

From the first glimpse of the mammoth backside, Kevin knew that the monolithic thing before him was none other than Bloody Mary, the infamous red whale who, in her lifetime, had sent 643 innocent whalers to their horrific deaths. Kevin was so shocked and frightened that found himself bolted to the spot and could barely tear himself away from the deck when Bloody Mary opened her gargantuan jaws and began to devour the Queen Alexandria. Within ten minutes the blood-red whale had consumed half the ship’s body and all but a dozen of its crew.

Finally, Bloody Mary submerged herself and it looked as though her fury had been quieted for the time being. Kevin thanked God that he had been spared, but wondered how long he could last in the open sea before another ship happened to come by this spot. He didn’t have long to think, however, because before he could realize what was happening, he discovered that Bloody Mary was rising to the surface once more and that he was right in the path of her colossal open mouth.

Kevin Shapiro, boy orphan, let himself fall into the beast’s belly and hoped that his eventual death in Bloody Mary’s bowels would not be too protracted.

current mood: accomplished

(2 comments | comment on this)

Friday, March 11th, 2005
4:42 pm - Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan: Episode 733.51

Kevin sat on the floor of the upstairs stacks in the public library, wearily staring up at a battered old Edward Gorey alphabet poster depicting The Gashlycrumb Tinies. He hugged a few precious books to his chest. The pickings had thinned after the library's funding had been cut; no new books arrived to take the places of the ones that were lost, stolen, mutilated, drastically misfiled, or eaten by hungry pica sufferers. They'd thinned even further when the ban on pro-gay books had passed--no more Shakespeare or Melville or LeGuin.

It sometimes took him a week to find even one "new" book that he could stand to read. Once he found one, he would read it voraciously--as much as he could before the library closed--and hide it in the Economics section where no one ever went. He also had a stash in an air vent over by Folklore.

He knew at least two other kids who did the same thing. They didn't talk much, but sometimes a new book would appear in one of his stashes, and, later on, he would return the favor. He never thought of this as stealing, even though it pretty much ensured that no other patrons could get at their finds. They were preserving the books, keeping them safe and sound in the library where they belonged.

And so the books grew fewer and fewer. Today, Kevin had an early Tepper, a Pinkwater, and a new (to him) Kiesel. He clutched them to his chest, inhaling their dusty, lovely smell. He wanted to wait as long as possible before he opened them, so he looked up at the poster again.

"At least none of those terrible things have happened to me," Kevin mused. He shuddered as his gaze passed over K, the little girl struck by an axe. Black gore poured from the wound on her chest, and her huge, hollow eyes looked as stricken as he felt. He looked closer--someone had crossed out "Kate" and scribbled "Keats" above it.

He looked at L. "Leo" too had been crossed out, and "Lorca" inserted above. They had all been replaced: "Maud" with "Marlowe", "Titus" with "Tolstaya", "Victor" with "Vonarburg", and so on. The graffiti artist apparently hadn't been able to come up with any authors whose names began with X--"Xerxes" had been replaced with "Xena, Warrior Princess".

Kevin's eyes filled with tears.

He tried to read, but all he could think about was those authors, hacked and stabbed and burned and trampled and gone, gone forever. As if they had never been.

A month later, the library ran out of everything but Danielle Steele, and Kevin Shapiro died of ennui.

(4 comments | comment on this)

Sunday, January 30th, 2005
4:01 pm

It was a Thursday. Kevin hated Thursdays. Each Thursday, something horrible would happen. At around 2:30, Kevin would always feel his back tingle. He had never gotten the chance to see what was happening, as he was too poor and lived in a menagerie of cardboard boxes, painted over to look like a small townhouse. It had an address; 2291 Honeysuckle Lane. Anyways, one Arizona morning, Kevin walked out of his box to find it was raining outside. He gave it some thought, as he only saw rain about once every other month.

As he left his house, he felt a horrible pain, a pain unimaginable to a normal human being. Strangely enough, this pain was on his back, on the same spot where his back tingled. He ran over to a puddle to see what was going on (he had learned about relfections in grade school, and that was useful because he had no mirrors, of course).

And to his surprise, he saw what he thought might be a small head, similar to the results of a head shrinking process practiced in Asia. By now, his back was screaming, literally.

"You fool!," wailed the head sprouting from his back."Have you not learned a thing about me?!"

"No?," Kevin groaned wearily, trying to overcome the intense pain. He had not been accustomed to talking to his back before. All of a sudden, a frail-looking woman walks by Kevin, sees the growth, and has a heart attack as a result of shock.

"Oh my God!," shrieks Kevin in a girly voice. "What do I do?!" Now, the townspeople were in a panic, for they had just seen an old woman die of a heart attack in front of Kevin Shapiro, mutant boy orphan an the run for murder.

(4 comments | comment on this)

Saturday, October 23rd, 2004
9:15 pm - Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan, Eats a Good Ol' American Meal


There was mustard, and ketchup, and wilted onion squares too small to pick out; he had forgotten, again, to ask for a plain burger. He squeezed it gently between his fingers, watched a bloat of yellow mustard swell like a gum-bubble, and wondered if he would be able to eat it without throwing up. A ridiculous question, he knew, since it was all he had to eat for now. He had spent all the money he had on the airplane ticket in his pocket. He reached down to feel it, touched a sharp cardboard corner, and sighed in anticipation.

This time tomorrow he might be sitting in an identical McDonald's on the opposite side of the country - the idea excited him. Just thinking about being somewhere else excited him, with a sick pitching intensity, the feeling of shoplifting or walking in a dark alley at night. He would visit the Haight-Ashbury hotel when he got there, stand in the lobby where his heroes had stood and chatted and kissed each other and tripped on acid; he would walk down the streets, familiar from his constant fantasies of them, and feel the vibes of beauty and peace that must surely drift up from the warm California sidewalks; he even planned to sleep, if he could, in Golden Gate Park, and imagine that he could hear the voices and see the ghostly outlines of the participants in the Human Be-In. San Francisco was where he belonged.

He had prepared for this flight. He was never coming back. Everything that he loved and wanted was in the duffel bag at his feet; his other possessions were in the pawn shop downtown. He had an extra set of clothes, a few books, a Walkman cassette player, Jefferson Airplane and Grateful Dead tapes, and a toothbrush. He had everything he wanted in the world. Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan, swallowed the last bite of his disgusting hamburger and headed out the door of the McDonald's and in the direction of his future.

current mood: sleepy

(4 comments | comment on this)

Friday, October 22nd, 2004
4:52 pm - Kevin Shapiro and the Mysterious Siren

Kevin Shapiro, boy orphan, woke up with a strange buzzing in his head. He opens his eyes and looked down at the scene of decadence that lay before him. On the floor he saw empty bottles, drug paraphernalia, half naked people of both genders, a banana peel and a small puddle of vomit. Slowly, as he stood up and made his way to the bathroom, memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. It seemed that every room he entered triggered an image in his mind. Some were funny, others bizarre and unexplainable. Kevin rubbed his pounding forehead and noticed for the first time that he was completely nude.

When he reached the bathroom, he put up the toilet lid and urinated. When his hand moved down to flush, he heard a voice speak to him. He looked toward the bath tub and saw a pale, beautiful girl lying back in the water, naked. Her hair was reddish brown and was cut so that it barely brushed the tops of her shoulders. She was attractive in a delicate, fey sort of way. "Kevin," she said. "Kevin, I've wanted you." Her soft hand slowly reached forward and took hold of his thigh. Kevin did not remember seeing her at the party the night before, or ever before, for that matter, but he didn't make any attempt to resist her advances. He laid himself on top of her and pressed his hard member against the supple, young flesh of her stomach before bringing it down into her. He brought his lips to her breast and suckled like a child. He was trembling. She kept saying his name, "Kevin, Kevin Shapiro" and it gave him goose bumps. They went at it for fifteen minutes before he pulled it out and orgasmed all over her breasts.

He was so lost in the throes of passion that he never saw the girl reach behind her and bring up a meat cleaver from the soap holder on the wall. He only felt the cold touch of metal on his crotch, immediately followed by the sharp, sudden, blinding pain of his penis being sawed into. He cried out at the top of his lungs and the girl, as if in response, scooped up a handful of his ejaculate from her chest and flung it into his eyes. The semen stung but he did not notice at all. A few seconds he felt his cock come loose and heard the short plop when it fell into the water in the tub. He looked down at the steady stream of blood coming from between his legs and was in shock. The girl stood up and started stepping out of the tub, leaving her cleaver behind her. Kevin saw his chance and grabbed the meat cleaver. He leapt forward, ignoring the biting pain in his groin as best he could, and brought the cleaver down in the middle of the girl's head. It stuck and she fell forward, dead.

Kevin stood in the doorway of the bathroom, inhaling deeply and staining the carpet with his crotch blood. "Well, damn it," he said, "I woke up hung over and now I'm castrated with a dead bitch in my bathroom." He put some toilet paper over his wound and went back to the tub to pick up his missing organ and take it to the hospital.

current mood: accomplished

(9 comments | comment on this)

Tuesday, October 19th, 2004
3:33 pm - Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan: Chapter 6009

Kevin Shapiro sat in his box and seethed. As he seethed he shivered. As he shivered he snivelled. And so on.

Winter was coming. Another Republican in the White House. Another ignonimous eviction from the shelter. And all he could think about was the sweet, sad smile of the girl on the steps of the library. The girl with hair like a rainbow.

She sat curled up like a battered flower, a small cardboard sign propped in front of her feet. Her face was fresh and pink and pretty under the rough kinks of her dreads. Her bowed head lifted slowly as he approached, and the dark petals of her eyelashes unfurled.

"Hey, man," she whispered in a voice that tasted of smoke and honey. She called me a man! And somehow, in that moment, he felt like one. "Can you help me out?"

"Anything", he breathed.

"I need fourteen dollars to get to Cherry Hill...my mama's dying, and I need to tell her I love her. I ran away two years ago to look for my dad, and I haven't seen her since then. She hasn't got anyone but me...I'm so afraid she might die alone, thinking nobody cares about her..."

Kevin's chest contracted, and his cold fingers scrabbled helplessly in his pockets. He had exactly two dollars and sixteen cents to his name, and all he could think was, It isn't enough! "Just a minute!" he managed, and bolted.

He ran up to the first rich-looking person he could see. "I need some money, please! It--it's not for me." "Yeah, right," spat the businessman, and strode on. "Please!" he begged a middle-aged woman. She tossed him a pitying glance and dropped a quarter into his hand. Ugly, angry faces were surging and dipping all around him. He reeled and clutched at the nearest arm for balance, only to topple them both over onto the pavement. "Let go of my purse!" shrieked the old lady, kicking him in the shins with her pointy-toed shoes.

Her purse. His eyes flicked toward it. Purse. Money. Bus. Mom. Mom. He grabbed it, rolled over, and leaped up in one swift motion. He ran until the shouting and the sound of feet quieted behind him, then ran some more. He leaned against a dumpster, panting, and fumbled with the clutch.

Fifty-three dollars and forty-eight cents. Hot meals for a couple of weeks, a warm jacket, cigarettes enough to keep Arnie off his back for a long time. And two credit cards. He stared for a minute, then tucked the contents carefully in his pocket and threw the purse in the dumpster.

By the time he got back to the library, it was already dark. Please let it not be too late, he murmered. Not too late.

She was still there, shivering in the dull orange light of the street lamps. He dashed up to her and dumped it all into her lap, breathing raggedly. "I got it!" The girl looked down at her lap, and then up at him, curiously, as if she didn't understand. "That's enough for the bus. Or even a taxi."

Her slow smile dazzled him as it bloomed. "Yeah. Thanks, man." She didn't move. He shuffled a bit. "Uh...my name's Kevin. Do you want me to show you where the bus stop is?"

"Madison! Where have you been?", a thin, harsh voice demanded from behind him. A bony blond woman with overplucked eyebrows and aggressively neutral lipstick was glaring past him from the window of a white Lexus. "I've been looking for you for two hours! Get in the car right now!"

The girl's smile vanished as quickly as the money, and she leaped up from the steps. And then she, and the smooth, gleaming white car, and all the warmth in the world, were gone.

(5 comments | comment on this)

Tuesday, August 10th, 2004
11:26 pm - Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan Turns Over a New Leaf

Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan turns over a new leaf.

It was a typical day for Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan: He pretended to leave his foster home for school, but instead hid out in a cardboard box located in a small 10 foot by 18 foot piece of undeveloped land behind the LAY-Z-MART recliner emporium. He could fit comfortably in the discarded recliner box, among the golden yellow weeds that have overgrown in this miniature vacant lot. Feeling a little hungry, he decided to go to the nearby Food-Barn Grocery. He bought a Black Belt Magazine and shoplifted a box of red vines. He returned to his box, and looked over the ads for nun-chucks and ninja-stars while chomping on his stolen red vines. About half-way through the box of licorice, a car drove through the alley behind the LAY-Z-MART. The driver slowed down, and looked at Kevin with mouth agape. Kevin thought it might have been his gym teacher, but actually attending school so rarely, he wasn't sure. If it was his gym teacher, he probably had the same amount of trouble at placing the oft-absent Kevin Shapiro. Kevin put on his 'defiant face' and just stared the possibly ersatz gym teacher until he drove off shaking his head.

“Well, time to get on with the day,” thought Kevin, “before Mr. Mann drops the dime and tells the truant officer where to find me.” Kevin made his way to a different alley, on the way stopping just long enough to snatch an old lady's purse. Arriving at the alley, he met Grant Wellington, a drug dealer of low repute. Finding that the old lady Kevin stole the purse from was five dollars short of his favorite high, Kevin beat up Grant and took all his merchandise. Chuckling to himself, he was blissfully unaware of his surroundings as he stepped off the curb and was hit by the vehicle driving well above the speed limit.

Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan did not die.

The vehicle that hit Kevin was a 1950 Pontiac Ambulance. Though it was short on lifesaving equipment, but there was oxygen and horizontal transport to the hospital run by High Lamas of the Silly Hat order. The doctors and nurses did all they could for Kevin (all the while, wearing silly hats, but not so silly as to impede the practice of medicine), but after 3 surgeries, there was nothing else to be done than to wait and see if he ever woke from his coma.

While in his Coma, Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan found his consciousness to reside in a spiritual representation of a fast food restaurant. He was the only customer in the place, and the food was free. He ate many a pickle-burger, and drank many a Kroka-Kola. Those working at the fast food restaurant were an eclectic crew. A bearded man with long hair ran the front counter. A fat man with a serene smile ran the soda machine. The cook wore her long hair in a net, and efficiently ran the grill with her six arms. There were many others that would come and go, all seeming to have an inner-light that would illuminate them from within. Each in their turn, would sit with Kevin while on their break, drink a soda with him, and impart him with a little wisdom. Over time, Kevin became very wise. And becoming wise, he desired to do good in the world.

Kevin Shapiro, Man Orphan woke up.

Kevin found that he had been in a coma for 15 years. No longer a boy, but a man. A man who had been taught by the wisest fast-food workers in the universe for a decade and a half. Kevin was a wise and good man.

The following months were torture for the enlightened and awoken Kevin Shapiro. All of his muscles had atrophied, and he had to learn to use them again. He had to learn how to walk, how to talk, how to feed himself. The day he went to the bathroom standing up for the first time, he was awarded a silly hat of his very own.

During the months of rehabilitation, he had won the hearts of all those who worked at the hospital, from the top surgeon, to the graveyard shift janitor. His tireless work at his own rehabilitation, and the meditation sessions he ran three times a week impressed many. Kevin Shapiro, Man Orphan was a friend to all he encountered.

Kevin's story was shown on the local news, and the man who now ran the Orphanage that Kevin was abandoned nearly 30 years before offered him a job working with the orphans there as a chaplain and counselor. Overjoyed at the news to help others, Kevin doubled his already tremendous effort to get better, and get to work.

The day Kevin Shapiro, Man Orphan left the hospital, there was much crying and smiling and waving. Kevin was presented so many flowers and balloons he had trouble carrying them all. As he reached the curb, he turned to wave to those wishing him well, and losing his balance fell into the street where he was hit by a vehicle going well above the speed limit.

Kevin Shapiro, Man Orphan died.

current mood: quixotic

(9 comments | comment on this)

Thursday, April 22nd, 2004
1:00 pm - Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan Chapter Two Thousand, Nine Hundred, Sixty-Two

Kevin Shapiro shuffled along the sidewalk with his chin on his chest and his hands in his pockets. He had really wanted it to work out this time. His foster mother, Mrs. Nettelnocker, let him stay up every friday night to watch the Late Show, and the twins, well, they could never have replaced Isobel, but they were nice in a dribbly, wobble-kneed way.

He hadn't stuck around to see what happened last night. He didn't like being back out on the street, but anything was better than another stint at juvie. He'd gotten a lot better at picking pockets since the last time they picked him up, and maybe Isobel could help him find a place to stay the night.

Heading over to see if his sister was still working the same corners, he took a took a left on Lomax Drive and sniffed back a tear.

He hoped the Nettelnockers were okay. He had worked so hard with his therapist to control his pyric compulsions. All it took was just one little slip, he thought, just one little strike of the match.

(5 comments | comment on this)

Sunday, April 18th, 2004
12:35 am - Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan tries to catch a train.

It was time. Kevin Shapiro, boy orphan had all he could take of his miserable life. He wrote his suicide note, carefully, using the best penmanship his 8th grade public school education afforded him, using a pen he stole from the post office -- a federal offense. He sealed the note with wax. The wax supplied by a crayon he found on the street -- burnt umber. He idly wondered what an umber was, and why someone would burn it. Holding a cheap cigarette lighter up to the crayon, he dripped twice-burnt umber onto the paper sealing the note. He nailed the note to a tree and walked to the train tracks and laid down across them, closing his eyes, and breathing deep. He was five minutes early. He knew the ConRail freight train would be passing over his soon to be broken body in a short while.

Then he heard a clammoring like no other he had heard before, he opened his eyes, to see the train, not bearing down on him, but turned on its side, derailed, and skidding to a stop. There were small rubber ducks headed for a New Jersy wharehouse everywhere.

Kevin, sighed, retrieved his note and began to walk back to the orphanage. "Figures," he sighed, "nothing ever works out the way I want."

(2 comments | comment on this)

Thursday, April 15th, 2004
8:49 pm - It Was Pointless

Kevin sat on the curb, his sneakers bathing in the nasty runoff cruising into the sewer. His head rocked to his headphones, which rocked to a band. He tried to look outcast in Hot Topic duds and black eyeliner. He felt as fake as he looked. It wasn't fair. Kevin's parents died in a stereotypical car accident when he was young, too young to remember them, miss them, or even care about them. He was an orphan for Christ's sakes; why couldn’t he be miserable? Yet his youth also placed him in a good home, with smiling parents and a proud older sibling (who wasn’t proud long). He was spoiled, given all the oversized jeans, black mesh, and Chuck Taylors he wanted with a hug and a cute tug on the safety pin. It was pointless.

Kevin lay back onto the sidewalk with a distinct sigh. He was no Oliver Twist, begging for "More, please". He couldn't set himself apart through amazing feats of scholastics or athletics. He couldn't dazzle people with his looks or witty retorts. He could try to be miserable; the miserable angst made famous of late by request lines and rock videos, and even that was tainted by his inability to escape love and luxury, what people rebel for, not against. It was pointless.

(4 comments | comment on this)

> previous 20 entries
> top of page