hardhitter_nj

Name: Michael Jacob-Francis
Fandom: OC
Topic Your perfect day
Word Count: 440

~[May-1988]~

White suits and first communion, it was a perfect day for Michael Jacob-Francis. How could he think any other day would compare to this? When it was his turn, he opened his hand. He then prayed that it wasn’t true, that at the last minute, the priest would switch the wafer with Styrofoam peanuts, like his study buddy said. Michael he breath a sigh of relief when the real thing was placed gently on his tongue.

And then …nothing?

There was no bright white light, no flashes of soulful inspiration; nothing but the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. Michael had been psyched, studying all year to be the top in his catechism class. By the time this day had come, Michael’s imagination had worked up to epic proportions, expecting all kinds of earth shattering revelations.

But there were none that he could see or hear.

What he got was a slight nudge from the next in line and then it was off to sit back down with his family. Now that the communion had been met and the service was over, everyone seemed so happy, less somber.

At home, it felt no different. But at least there was a party for him. That was fun, he thought, feeling the moment slip away from him, as of he missed a very big point. Everyone was laughing, smiling and taking pictures of Mikey with all his first communion gifts, which his family bought him.

“You see, you just talk into this Mikey and you can save all your talks with God. I hear you at night, so I sorta thought…” Nine and a half years old, Maggie’s room was right next to his. She knew for a fact, he talked every night after prayers, long after he forgot what he was praying about; her brother just loved talking to God.

When he opened Maggie’s gift, it kinda sort of actually clicked. It was a tape recorder.

“Thank you Maggie!” Cheered by the thoughtful gift and reminded what his day was really about, Michael thought this day couldn’t get any more perfect.

~ {Today]~

Any day that I win is a perfect day. It wipes out all negativity and it lifts me up from out of the ordinary masses, to that of someone who actually did something with their life. And yeah, yeah, I know that even if I lose a match, that at least I did my best. But that doesn’t cut it with me. Losing sucks. Period. Not very many remember the losers of a match, unless they crapped out so spectacularly, that it was a noteworthy event.