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Thorne and Dan were awakened by the sound of a pounding on their door. "It's the police; open up!" Thorne had written a letter to the police; they had been not only a witness to the murder of a young boy but an accomplice his murder; and they told the cops everything.
June 20, 1992
"We should plan a fourth of July party!" Thorne exclaimed. "We've lived together for a year, and we never leave the house. We can invite the whole neighborhood! All the kids are out of school, we can rent a bounce house and you could play music. You know, bring the community together and get to know each other; I can even put up posters!
"Fine, fine. If I say yes, will you give it a rest?" Dan said with a beer in his hand.
"Yes." Thorne's smile spread across their entire face. They have an infectious smile. Whenever Thorne smiles, you can't help but smile too. They went to the kitchen and snatched the car keys from the key holder.
"Where are you going?"
Thorne stopped in their tracks. "I'm going to the dollar store for art supplies so I can make posters advertising our cookout. Is that okay?" Thorne asked nervously.
"I'll go with you." Dan reluctantly got up from his recliner and grabbed his wallet. "Let's go."
They locked the door behind them and walked to their car. "What's the real reason you wanna throw this party?" Dan asked.
"I have no friends, Dan. I feel suffocated staying in the house all day every day." Thorne said.
Dan let out a frustrated sigh. "Who's fault is that? You could be working or something."
"You're kidding, right?" Thorne snapped. "Every time I get a job, you have a meltdown, I have to come home early, and then I get fired. Believe me, Dan, I wish I had a job; at least I'd get out of the house every once in a while."
"So now it's my fault you can't find a job?" Dan yelled.
"Please, keep your eyes on the road; and don't scream at me. I feel like I can't talk to you about anything without you getting mad at something I say. Maybe we need a break..."
Dan screamed louder and slammed his foot on the gas. THUD.
He slammed his foot on the breaks, and the car sputtered out of control. Thorne and Dan's heart were thumping in their chests. They sat there as if they had been frozen in time.
Thorne came to first. They glanced at Dan. "Dan, are you okay?" Dan sat there silently. Motionless.
They opened the passenger's side door and stepped out of the vehicle. They walked to the bumper to take inventory of wreckage. "The bumper is fucked, the windshield is shattered, and a tire has been ripped off its axle.
"Dan? Dan!" Nothing. Dan stood inches away from Thorne's face. "We bury the body. Then we do absolutely nothing. We go on as if nothing ever happened."
"You can not be serious." Thorne was shocked. This was a new low for Dan. "I can't believe you! You really are serious, aren't you?"
"I am. And you're going to go along with me." Dan's demeanor became eerie.
"Why the fuck would I do that?" Thorne asked.
"Because without me, you're nothing. Where are you going to live, Thorne? When I'm in prison, you won't be getting shit from me, so please tell me where you're gonna go, what you're gonna eat. Where will you sleep, huh?"
Dan was right; Thorne relied on him. They hated it, but he was right. Thorne had no life without Dan.
"No cops. No hospitals. Just you, me, and two shovels." He sat in the driver's side, staring out the shattered windshield with both hands gripping the steering wheel.
"We need to call the police. Dan, you were completely gone. You need-"
Dan's knuckles turned white. "Stay here, I'll get some help." His grip loosened, and he regained . "No. I'm okay."
"I. Said. NO!" Dan shouted.
"Okay, I'm sorry. What do you want to do?" Thorne asked.
You need me Thorne, don't fucking forget that. No cops, and NO HOSPITALS! He screamed, standing inches away from Thorne's face, spraying them with saliva.
Dan stepped out of the car. Thorne joined him as they walked toward the dark, deformed, lump in the road. Their eyes adjusted. "Oh my God, you hit a child!" Thorne shouted and grabbed their chest. Tears flooded Thorne's face, and their body went limp. They collapsed and slid down the door of their SUV.
"ME? What the fuck do you mean me? You're in just as deep as I am, bitch."
"What do you suppose we do then, huh?" Thorn hissed.
"We bury the body. Then we do absolutely nothing. We go on as if nothing ever happened."
"You can not be serious." Thorne was shocked. This was a new low for Dan. "I can't believe you! You really are serious, aren't you?"
"I am. And you're going to go along with me." Dan's demeanor became eerie.
"Why the fuck would I do that?" Thorne asked.
"Because without me, you're nothing. Where are you going to live, Thorne? When I'm in prison, you won't be getting shit from me, so please tell me where you're gonna go, what you're gonna eat. Where will you sleep, huh?"
Thorne knew Dan was right. They hated it, but he was right. Thorne had no life without Dan.
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Not sure what this is, but it's somethin'. I have more in my notes.
Thorne and Dan were awakened by the sound of a pounding on their door. "It's the police; open up!" Thorne had written a letter to the police; they had been not only a witness to the murder of a young boy but an accomplice to murder.
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Part 1 of a story I'm working on:
"Hey, I heard your dad's selling the farm." Martha hollered from the sky blue rocking chair on her porch.
"Yeah, I just found out. I still can't believe it. He's been providing the local markets with corn and wheat for over a decade. Why would he want to sell it?
"I heard he's retiring."
"Thats bullshit. He loves the farm, and he wouldn't retire. He loves seeing everyone's face when he delivers their orders. Even if he wanted to retire, he'd hire locals to help take care of the farm, not sell it."
"Okay, then, why do you think he's selling the farm?"
"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. Grandpop has had his farm since I've been alive, literally. I have a lifetime of memories on that farm, and it's not even his to sell; the farm was passed down to my mother from my great-grandmother; it's been in our family for generations."
"You're his son; can't you just ask him why he's selling it? She asked, rocking back and for in rocking chair, flipping through the pages of her magazine.
"It's not that simple," Arnold knew if he questioned his father, he'd hold it over his head like a game.
Arnold and his father aren't close. He knew if he questioned his father, he'd hold it over his head like a game. "What did I do to make him hate me so much? He thought to himself.
"Well, someone in your family has to know what's going on; if I were you, I'd chat with your gran."
"Gran? Why her? My gran and my dad don't speak to one another. I've never even seen them in the same room."
"Well, they were arguing outside my shop the other day, and your dad went off on her. He called her a stupid old woman."
My dad would never say that" (what Arnold didn't say was "in public"). He felt devensive, even though he knew his father could be cruel sometimes.
"I'm just telling you what I heard."
"I know. I'll catch you later."
"Hey, wait, I didn't mean to upset you."
"I know, it's okay, my dad can be a bit of an ass sometimes. I really do have to go, though. I have to go talk to my dad, and if he doesn't want to tell me why he's selling, well, I guess I'll go pay my gran a visit."
#writing stories#writblr#beginner writer#summer writes#writing#writers on tumblr#writeblr#writerscommunity
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Untitled short story that just came to mind. 🩷
"I think there's someone at the door."
"I didn't hear anything."
"Well, can you check anyway?" Her mother snapped.
"Fine."
Jessica rolled her eyes and got up from her seat at the table. The aroma from her mother's cooking made her stomach rumble.
Jessica opened the door. The man pushed through the door, causing her to lose her footing. She stumbled and fell to the floor. The man lunged on top of her. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as he tore through her jugular.
"JESSICA?"
Her mother dropped the giant spoon on the floor and ran to check on her daughter.
Jessica tried to fight him off, but there was no use. His dead weight pinned her to the floor. He ripped through more of her flesh, leaving Jessica a screaming, bloody mess.
Her mother stood there for a split second, shocked by the horrific scene, and ran to her daughter. Her mother grabbed the man by the shoulders and tugged, but she couldn't pull him off of her.
The man twisted his body and chomped down on her arm, leaving an open, bloody gash in her arm. She screamed and ripped her arm back, freeing herself from the grip of his teeth. Her mother backed away, stumbling over her feet. Their eyes locked. Her vision blurred from tears flooding down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I love you so much." She ran to the door.
"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME." Jessica begged while she watched her mom run to the door. Her mother stopped at the open doorway and took one last look at her daughter.
"I'm sorry." Her mother ran out the door, leaving Jessica to fend for herself.
#summer writes#summer's stories#beginner writer#writing#writing stories#short story#short stories#story#stories#writblr
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