Justeazy
Todo is the pfuf!
- Joined
- Apr 28, 2011
First chapter of the first character in a story I've been writing for far too long.
Rated either PG-13 or R. On the whole, the story would be R, but this chapter alone isn't too bad. Read at your own discretion.
Walking her son home from school, Sharell Irngstien had an uneasy feeling. Ever since she was a child, she has been able to predict when especially horrible events would happen. She would get a really bad feeling, always presenting itself in the form of a headache, or a migraine, and she had used this to both predict several earthquakes, as well as the death of her grandparents, her father's suicide, and the fall of the Twin Towers.
However, because she was a chronic migraine sufferer, many had begun to doubt it as just a strange coincidence, or, those people left who still believed her, put it out of their mind, as much of the time it would turn out the cause was nothing more than everyday stress. Even her doctor had no explanation for what could be occurring. Although, being the superstitious person he is, he did start trusting in this strange ability once she predicted something in his midst. He was given the divorce declaration he feared the next day.
Today, she felt nothing could ruin this day, so she put it out of her mind. Whether she did this out of hope or fear, even she was uncertain. She decided to not mention anything to her husband, and just enjoy the rest of this wonderful day at home.
"Tommy Boy!" Bill shouted as soon as they walked through the door, her son jumping into his father’s arms.
"Hello Bill, how was work today?" She said, with an air of suspect in her voice. Not that she suspected him of anything, he had always been a faithful husband; Sharell couldn't have asked for more out of him. This was actually because she had heard a rumor that he was due for a promotion.
"Honey," Bill said, with a sense of surprise, both directed towards her, and coming from himself. He had never been a very bold person. "I want you dressed your best, and get Tommy ready here too. I have a surprise for the both of you and we are leaving at 8:30 sharp! No one is going to be late, so make sure you are ready." He said, then winked at his wife "I want everything to be perfect for tonight."
"Ooh, Bill!" Sharell said, reveling at the swoon in her own voice "What great event could have occurred that marks this occasion?”
"Nut ut uh, not until tonight. It's a surprise!"
"Ooh, I cannot wait!" She didn't even try to hold back her emotions this time, giving Bill one long, passionate kiss on the lips. Only to be broken when her son said "Mommy, that's gross." They both looked at him, still holding eachother. He stuck his tongue out at them.
Laughing, Bill told his son to go play in his room, then finished setting the table for tonight’s meal. That was Bill for you, always going out of his way to do all of the work. He was the only one in the family with a job, insisting that his wife stay home and keep everything in order. Stay home with Tommy until he was old enough to be trusted with his own house key (which Bill secretly hoped would never happen). Despite his love of his wife, and her need to work on things to keep her mind occupied on those long days home alone, he would insist he does the work. Every chance she got, she told her husband to stop working and just relax for a change. And every chance he got, he went behind her back and did the work himself anyway. Even now she stopped him from clearing the table, but when she went to put her purse up, he had finished the job before she could get back to do it herself.
He gave his wife one last kiss on the cheek, then set out for the backyard, where he decided the hedges had been allowed to grow too large, and he had to cut them. On the way to the shed, he stopped and picked up a Tonka Truck. Not one of those modern day, plastic trucks, but an old, used but loved, rusted metal truck. When he discovered he was having a boy, he searched his mother’s attic to find his old toys, and came down proudly presenting his original six. He had saved them all, and was now going to pass them on. This one was the dump truck, his son was always leaving one piece of the set or another laying around. He opened the shed, and set it on the shelf with his son's "fun tools". His son always liked to help him doing the work that required the big noisy tools, and, even though his were smaller, battery operated replicas that can’t do an honest tool’s job, he always commented on how well of a job his son did. Tommy didn’t always believe him.
Now was not the time for play, however, he had to get the shears and fix those overgrown hedges. Finding this easy work, as he did this every week it seemed, he went back in the house, and continued to go about his day doing small jobs around the house. At one point, he stopped to watch some television. After around five minutes of channel surfing, he found nothing on, and turned it off.
"Why do I even pay for cable?" he sighed to himself.
Tommy sat in his room, making faces to his reflection in the window. He heard a noise outside, saw something rustling the hedges, and got spooked. He was about to look away when him mom came in the room, holding his one button up shirt. He hated wearing it, but his mom always made him wear it to "special occasions", and, apparently, this was one of these times. He struggled, grunted and moaned as his mom forced the shirt onto him, but she eventually won, as she always did. She dragged him to the bathroom and combed his hair, as best she could at least.
"Now Tommy, I want you on your best behavior tonight, do you understand me?" Sharell said, with that “You better do what I tell you, or else!” tone in her voice.
"Ugh," he groaned, "yes mom." He put extra emphasis on the mom, as he knew she preferred he call her mommy.
Just as they were ready, she took her son and headed downstairs. 8:27 the hallway clock flashed as they passed.
"Sharell, where are you? Were going to be late!" Her husband called up the stairs. He was a very punctual person, as well, always fighting to be early for every single thing.
"Yes Bill, we are on our way down-." A loud banging on the door cut her off. She stood still, holding her son, worried. She had always been afraid of unannounced visitors, and was sure that no one was supposed to come now, especially since they were about to leave.
"Ugh, who could that be?" came Bill’s voice from down the stairs, his annoyance clear. She heard the door creak open slowly, and then slam. The person on the other side couldn't wait. She heard a scuffle, movement towards the kitchen, glass breaking: silence.
She screamed.
Suddenly, whoever was down there headed her way.
"Bill, is that you?" her voice shaky "B-Bill?" No response.
She immediately picked up her son, and ran to the master bedroom. She locked the door, pushed the dresser in front, and climbed into the closet with her son. She retrieved her husband's handgun, she had hoped she would never have to use it, but he insisted on teaching her how to, and now she was glad for that persistence. Just when she had found the safety, she heard that same pounding on the bedroom door.
"Bill? Is that you? ANSWER ME!?" She screamed, desperate. No response.
Thinking it might be her husband, hurt from this encounter with a stranger, she ordered her son to stay still, in the closet, and crept toward the door. Pulling the dresser back an inch, she cracked open the door.
Immediately, a hand forced its way through the crack, grabbed her hair with a ferocity she had never before experienced, and ripped through the door. When the man was through, she saw it was their neighbor from across the street, George Collins.
She lay on the ground, holding perfectly still from both shock and fear. Suddenly, George was still too, as if by a reaction from her immobility. She could sense fear emanating from another source, but didn't know whom it was from, or for.
Almost as if by an act from god, an explosion, a car alarm, a motorcycle’s tires screeching, outside, and George retreated out the way he came, towards the sound. Not daring to move, she stayed motionless for what seemed like hours, until she finally heard the soft crying of her son.
Carrying Tommy, she slowly made her way down stairs.
What she saw will scar her for life. Lying in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room was her husband. The remnants of a plate he had apparently just cleaned shattered to the side. He lay in a pool of his own blood, a little of it coming from a severe wound in the back of his neck, obviously the source of his death. Thankfully, Tommy was facing the other direction, his head on her shoulder, and she had protected him from this awful sight.
She shuddered. Without thinking, she closed and locked the door, then she puked. She carried her son upstairs, back to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and cried.
Honest criticism is appreciated.
Rated either PG-13 or R. On the whole, the story would be R, but this chapter alone isn't too bad. Read at your own discretion.
Walking her son home from school, Sharell Irngstien had an uneasy feeling. Ever since she was a child, she has been able to predict when especially horrible events would happen. She would get a really bad feeling, always presenting itself in the form of a headache, or a migraine, and she had used this to both predict several earthquakes, as well as the death of her grandparents, her father's suicide, and the fall of the Twin Towers.
However, because she was a chronic migraine sufferer, many had begun to doubt it as just a strange coincidence, or, those people left who still believed her, put it out of their mind, as much of the time it would turn out the cause was nothing more than everyday stress. Even her doctor had no explanation for what could be occurring. Although, being the superstitious person he is, he did start trusting in this strange ability once she predicted something in his midst. He was given the divorce declaration he feared the next day.
Today, she felt nothing could ruin this day, so she put it out of her mind. Whether she did this out of hope or fear, even she was uncertain. She decided to not mention anything to her husband, and just enjoy the rest of this wonderful day at home.
"Tommy Boy!" Bill shouted as soon as they walked through the door, her son jumping into his father’s arms.
"Hello Bill, how was work today?" She said, with an air of suspect in her voice. Not that she suspected him of anything, he had always been a faithful husband; Sharell couldn't have asked for more out of him. This was actually because she had heard a rumor that he was due for a promotion.
"Honey," Bill said, with a sense of surprise, both directed towards her, and coming from himself. He had never been a very bold person. "I want you dressed your best, and get Tommy ready here too. I have a surprise for the both of you and we are leaving at 8:30 sharp! No one is going to be late, so make sure you are ready." He said, then winked at his wife "I want everything to be perfect for tonight."
"Ooh, Bill!" Sharell said, reveling at the swoon in her own voice "What great event could have occurred that marks this occasion?”
"Nut ut uh, not until tonight. It's a surprise!"
"Ooh, I cannot wait!" She didn't even try to hold back her emotions this time, giving Bill one long, passionate kiss on the lips. Only to be broken when her son said "Mommy, that's gross." They both looked at him, still holding eachother. He stuck his tongue out at them.
Laughing, Bill told his son to go play in his room, then finished setting the table for tonight’s meal. That was Bill for you, always going out of his way to do all of the work. He was the only one in the family with a job, insisting that his wife stay home and keep everything in order. Stay home with Tommy until he was old enough to be trusted with his own house key (which Bill secretly hoped would never happen). Despite his love of his wife, and her need to work on things to keep her mind occupied on those long days home alone, he would insist he does the work. Every chance she got, she told her husband to stop working and just relax for a change. And every chance he got, he went behind her back and did the work himself anyway. Even now she stopped him from clearing the table, but when she went to put her purse up, he had finished the job before she could get back to do it herself.
He gave his wife one last kiss on the cheek, then set out for the backyard, where he decided the hedges had been allowed to grow too large, and he had to cut them. On the way to the shed, he stopped and picked up a Tonka Truck. Not one of those modern day, plastic trucks, but an old, used but loved, rusted metal truck. When he discovered he was having a boy, he searched his mother’s attic to find his old toys, and came down proudly presenting his original six. He had saved them all, and was now going to pass them on. This one was the dump truck, his son was always leaving one piece of the set or another laying around. He opened the shed, and set it on the shelf with his son's "fun tools". His son always liked to help him doing the work that required the big noisy tools, and, even though his were smaller, battery operated replicas that can’t do an honest tool’s job, he always commented on how well of a job his son did. Tommy didn’t always believe him.
Now was not the time for play, however, he had to get the shears and fix those overgrown hedges. Finding this easy work, as he did this every week it seemed, he went back in the house, and continued to go about his day doing small jobs around the house. At one point, he stopped to watch some television. After around five minutes of channel surfing, he found nothing on, and turned it off.
"Why do I even pay for cable?" he sighed to himself.
Tommy sat in his room, making faces to his reflection in the window. He heard a noise outside, saw something rustling the hedges, and got spooked. He was about to look away when him mom came in the room, holding his one button up shirt. He hated wearing it, but his mom always made him wear it to "special occasions", and, apparently, this was one of these times. He struggled, grunted and moaned as his mom forced the shirt onto him, but she eventually won, as she always did. She dragged him to the bathroom and combed his hair, as best she could at least.
"Now Tommy, I want you on your best behavior tonight, do you understand me?" Sharell said, with that “You better do what I tell you, or else!” tone in her voice.
"Ugh," he groaned, "yes mom." He put extra emphasis on the mom, as he knew she preferred he call her mommy.
Just as they were ready, she took her son and headed downstairs. 8:27 the hallway clock flashed as they passed.
"Sharell, where are you? Were going to be late!" Her husband called up the stairs. He was a very punctual person, as well, always fighting to be early for every single thing.
"Yes Bill, we are on our way down-." A loud banging on the door cut her off. She stood still, holding her son, worried. She had always been afraid of unannounced visitors, and was sure that no one was supposed to come now, especially since they were about to leave.
"Ugh, who could that be?" came Bill’s voice from down the stairs, his annoyance clear. She heard the door creak open slowly, and then slam. The person on the other side couldn't wait. She heard a scuffle, movement towards the kitchen, glass breaking: silence.
She screamed.
Suddenly, whoever was down there headed her way.
"Bill, is that you?" her voice shaky "B-Bill?" No response.
She immediately picked up her son, and ran to the master bedroom. She locked the door, pushed the dresser in front, and climbed into the closet with her son. She retrieved her husband's handgun, she had hoped she would never have to use it, but he insisted on teaching her how to, and now she was glad for that persistence. Just when she had found the safety, she heard that same pounding on the bedroom door.
"Bill? Is that you? ANSWER ME!?" She screamed, desperate. No response.
Thinking it might be her husband, hurt from this encounter with a stranger, she ordered her son to stay still, in the closet, and crept toward the door. Pulling the dresser back an inch, she cracked open the door.
Immediately, a hand forced its way through the crack, grabbed her hair with a ferocity she had never before experienced, and ripped through the door. When the man was through, she saw it was their neighbor from across the street, George Collins.
She lay on the ground, holding perfectly still from both shock and fear. Suddenly, George was still too, as if by a reaction from her immobility. She could sense fear emanating from another source, but didn't know whom it was from, or for.
Almost as if by an act from god, an explosion, a car alarm, a motorcycle’s tires screeching, outside, and George retreated out the way he came, towards the sound. Not daring to move, she stayed motionless for what seemed like hours, until she finally heard the soft crying of her son.
Carrying Tommy, she slowly made her way down stairs.
What she saw will scar her for life. Lying in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room was her husband. The remnants of a plate he had apparently just cleaned shattered to the side. He lay in a pool of his own blood, a little of it coming from a severe wound in the back of his neck, obviously the source of his death. Thankfully, Tommy was facing the other direction, his head on her shoulder, and she had protected him from this awful sight.
She shuddered. Without thinking, she closed and locked the door, then she puked. She carried her son upstairs, back to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and cried.
Honest criticism is appreciated.
