Magpie Tales #13

This is a prompt from a weekly writing theme hosted by Willow over at: http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

Some people write short vignettes, some write short poems

Here is my contribution for this week:

                                    
                                                                       The Gang


He stood in the middle of the circle of boys. It was difficult for him not to feel nervous as they all sat, with their legs crossed, staring at him, silent, thumping their fists into their hands.

The clubhouse was dimly lit, smelling of the damp and of burning candles. He was sure that they could feel his fear as he stood there, his legs shaking, beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

"Well, Skinny," sneered Billy. "Did you do what we told you to do? Did you go to the old man's house?"
Billy looked him up and down, thumping his fist into his hand, making him feel even more uncomfortable.
"You know ", he said with contempt, "if you want to be part of this gang you have to earn your place"

Skinny just stared back at him not saying a word. He took his hand out of his pocket, and held his arm
out to Billy. Skinny's fingers were closed, his hand facing upward. Slowly, ever so slowly he opened his fingers and there it was, lying in the middle of his hand, staring at him.

The boys all gasped and leaned in closer to get a better look.

All except Billy, that is, his look of contempt slowly turning to rage as he realised that Skinny was about to become part of the gang. His gang, and there was nothing he could do about it.