|Short Story Collection
Author: Haydos271 PM
This a collection of all my short stories I am going to be writing. Each will be 2000 words max, and all will be T-rated at the maximum. These short stories are designed to improve my writing skills. I'd appreciate if you'd give me your thoughts.Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 4 - Words: 2,900 - Reviews: 6 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 12-16-12 - Published: 06-22-12 - id: 3034786
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My body woke to the sound of harmony. The gentle music coming from the living room soothed my soul in so many ways, forcing butterflies to tickle me. In those few moments of peace, I felt that the word "wrong" no longer existed. The dark blue quilt that smothered me so comfortably felt like a hotdog's bun, with me sitting inside.
Then I began to ask myself questions. Why was the violin-heavy song playing? Why did it seem mysteriously quiet? My dad would usually be watching the TV right now, or looking up a video on the internet. The sounds always woke me at around 10am, yet when I checked my alarm clock, it was past midday.
The music began to fade, and it eventually stopped altogether after a few seconds. I heard a manly cough, one not of my father's. Who could be out there? My question was not answered by my own mind as another soft song began.
Although my eyes were faltering and my body was still tired, my curiosity got the better of me. I pulled myself away from the smothering quilt, and pushed myself out of bed. My still half-full glass of water shook a bit as I placed my weight on the fuzzy brown carpet, a sign of my body growth.
Slowly, footstep after footstep on the creaking floorboards underneath me, I stepped around my bed towards the wooden unpainted door. I paused for a moment to see if I could anything apart from the piano playing outside. Hearing nothing, I turned the freezing doorknob.
Strange. It was warm inside my room, yet the doorknob was cold. This proved that the heater wasn't on in the living room. I didn't know why, but my heart was racing as I pulled the door back, expecting something spectacular to appear in front of me.
But it was just an empty living room. Immediately, I could see that the cheap radio was turned on, playing on my mom's discs. I couldn't see the kitchen from where I stood, but the kitchen was basically a part of the living room, just a wall separated them, with an open space to see through.
The most peculiar thing was that my dad was nowhere to be seen. The computer and TV were both off, confirming my suspicions, and the seat where he always sits was empty. But I was still wondering about that manly cough I heard. It certainly wasn't his. I walked forward slowly, but even still my footsteps could be heard clearly. I continued to walk, but stopped at the sound of sizzle coming from the kitchen.
My head darted around to the sound, and I found my mom standing there, making a grilled-cheese sandwich for the man sitting at the dining table. But he was no ordinary man. From his sky-blue uniform he was obviously a police officer. They both noticed me and stared at me with sullen eyes.
For a moment I wondered if they were both zombies. My mother looked at my confused, unaware face, and spurted out a sound that told me that she was due to cry. She sat down and made that whining sound nobody wants to hear. Mom buried her head in her hands, not wanting anyone to see her in this vulnerable moment of hers.
I gazed towards the unknown police officer, however it became obvious he didn't want to make eye contact, and instead looked down towards the grilled-cheese that my mother had prepared for him. Then all of a sudden, in this moment of utter confusion, I began to put the pieces of the jigsaw together.
The empty seat and deactivated electronics, the soft, calming music, the police officer and my mother crying. I knew everything now.
It was all so obvious.
This was the day my father died.