Escape

some short stories that I've done. The first being the most recent (finished today) and the title is above.


Just do it! Just pick it up and end it all. Take it and jam it down your fucking throat and then let it take over. It’s what you want so just do it. It’s the only peace you’ll ever find. You think you're going to find love? There isn’t such thing for you, all that awaits is misery. Your alone in this life, no one will ever love you. You fucking piece of shit coward, you don’t even have the balls to make it stop. Look at yourself, crying, what type of faggot cries like that. Pathetic. Just pick it up and stick it in. It's what you want; you want all this to go away so just do it.

You think you can just walk away. What are you going to walk away to, do you have anything to walk away to!? Dumb piece of shit, even your mother thinks you're pitiful and she’s supposed to love you. Go on, run away to a different room and hide. Nothing has changed, your still, your still you. An ugly wretched excuse of a man that no one respects. Go on cry some more, what’s that going to change. Beg; beg for help, no one will heed your prayers. You’ve prayed before, and what has that done!?

It isn’t going to get better, there will only be repetition, and it will kill you. You have no one, and no one has you, so just do it, please just do it. WHY WON’T YOU FUCKING DO IT! You love the darkness so much, you love it when it all goes black, and you spend so much time in it, so make it eternal. The peace you will feel, you won’t feel the fear and the pain anymore, you won’t hear me anymore, you can be where you love forever, never to stir.

You can do it in a different way then, put the bath on and it can be slow and peaceful. Please just do it. I fucking hate you, I want to get away from you, and this is the only way. I won’t let you rest, I won’t let you a minute of your life of peace.

I can’t bear it anymore, you can’t bear it anymore, it hurts. Every breath hurts, every cold stare of disgust breaks us down, please just please. We won’t know what it’s like to be them, we won’t ever know. They smile, they laugh, they love, do you know what that’s like, do you know what they feel? You’ve never felt it before because it was never meant for us, this life isn’t meant for us, it’s for them. You will never build yourself up because they will always tear us down like they always do. How much longer can you take this? I can’t take it anymore, so I beg of you, it’s the only way we can escape.

…thank you...


Noise

The sweat seeped out till it formed a droplet which gently fell down the side of the man’s face. He quickly wiped it away and pulled himself out of the car whilst letting out a long sigh. He then adjusted his shirt which was uncomfortably sticky. The man slowly walked towards his home with his feet dragging on the ground. He got to the front entrance and fumbled in his pockets for his keys, finally finding them he opened the door. The light shot through the door and shone onto his face and he had to squint as his eyes adjusted to the newfound brightness. As he entered the hallway he took his shoes off and put them with his briefcase underneath in the corner.

The man walked through the hallway straight into the living room, there he saw his wife sitting on the sofa reading. She didn’t even look up, but the man was too tired to care. Out of routine he said his pleasantries and then carried on through the house into the kitchen. The man went to the fridge, and opened a can of beer. The sound of gas escaping the beer seemed loud in the eerily silent household. The man poured his drink, took a few large gulps and then gave a little moan of pleasure. He then headed to the rec. room with his beer, closed the door behind him and then sat down in an old tattered chair made comfortable by colour clashing cushions. A sigh of relief was let out as the man closed his eyes.

Suddenly the peace was broken by the shrill of a women’s voice and the frightened shouts of a boy. The man groaned and then chugged his beer down as if it would solve his predicament. He got up and headed towards the stereo nearby, but then the door swung open. His wife barged in with a face like stone, but from her eyes he could see the sadistic contempt. She rushed over to a shelf in the room and grabbed a gruesome tool of discipline. The object was a formation of several bamboo twigs, which were about a foot and a half in length and tied together at the bottom. Such an instrument was crude and malicious in design, acting like a cat o’ nine tails in the pain it dealt. She then hurried out of the room in silence, leaving the door wide open. The man gulped more of his beer and quietly lamented, his peace and quiet wouldn’t come so easily.

Screams pierced every corner of the house with the sobs of agony following. The man looked down at his beer, it was near empty. He went to get another whilst the chaos in his house continued. He cracked another beer open stared blankly at the kitchen wall. The wails of the tortured child went on to a sadistic beat. A scream would occur then followed by sobs, which would then be broken by another high pitched scream of pain. The man stopped staring at the wall and sipped his beer. He then took a small breath and went back to the rec. room. He looked at the door then walked towards it, and stopped for a brief moment. He then gently closed it.

The thin wooden door couldn’t hide the howls, the desperate unheeded howls. The man went back to his seat and sat down and took a tiny sip of his beer. He stared at the door with unblinking eyes. A last scream was given, given with all the pathetic desperation a child could give. It was gargled, blood curdling, and alien. The man closed his eyes and savoured his beer.

The screams stopped. Only sobs followed by the quiet deformed sounds of hurt could be heard. The father got up from his chair and turned the stereo on.


Para Nous

The feint trickle of light shone through the cracks of the curtain onto his face. Then a loud ringing of the bedside alarm clock went of and the boy groaned. The boy lurched towards the alarm clock and fumbled for it and then finally switched it off. He then fell back to bed and closed his eyes. A moment went by, and then another, he then gradually got up. He knew if he didn’t there would be consequences. His mind and body starts to slowly switch on and as it does the realisations dawn onto him. He remembers who he is, he remembers where he is, and he remembers the comforting nothingness that sleep brought him. Then he remembers why he longed for such mental silence.

He doesn’t bother opening his curtains but heads straight towards the bathroom and looks in the mirror and then pulls a face. Then suddenly stops and regrets it. Mustn’t do that, it isn’t normal he thinks. This brings on the cursed embrace of what is so apart of him, his fear. The fear leads him onto other thoughts, more dark thoughts, thoughts that can only be killed by sleep. Yet he still continues his morning routine in preparation for school, only out of fear.

His mother left him a packed lunch for school on the living room table, but she is nowhere to be seen. He grabs the food and the nearby school books and heads of into the bleak winter morn. The fear still pursues him, never letting him go, never giving him a chance for silence. He walks at a fast pace, head down, head always down. A car drives-by, it goes almost unnoticed by the boy, but he looks up and sees it and then smiles. The car smashes into him sending him flying into the air with shrapnel and glass. His body is left horribly mangled, construed and with the empty stare of death in the eyes. Then the smile fades as reality sets in, he hears the noise of the car fade away as it drives past. He carries on walking.

The boy sees his class mate waiting for him, someone tall and confident, but more importantly someone who could help him forget. The boy’s mood lightens up, as they head to school he tries to hurry conversation with the classmate, but such desperate talk doesn’t create the desired banter. The boy becomes more frantic and he asks a multitude of questions but with no success. He then tries boyish and obnoxious tom-foolery, thankfully it works. Both laugh and joke and the boy feels content due to the break of his insanity. But alas, like a persistent cancer the fear comes back stronger than ever. He tightens his knuckles and tries even harder to make it all go silent, he tries too hard and words are muttered. The tall boy looks at him at first perplexed, and then he nervously laughs thinking it must off been the boy being silly again.

They carry on walking in silence again but there is only noise for the boy. The mental volume increases, his mind further spirals into chaos, a chaos that leads to the absolution of fear. The boy’s skin prickles, his shirt collar starts to itch and his temperature reaches vexation. Then a shout is heard, one with the sound of kindness, but not towards the boy. The boy and his class mate stop, another school mate is seen across the road. The tall boy immediately crosses the road to greet the newcomer. The boy starts to follow but hesitates and stays where he is. He stays and waits in feeble desperation, hoping upon hope that they will signal him to come over. The signal never comes and the other two school mates walk away. The boy is left alone, alone to be anguished by what keeps him alive. A car drive’s by. The boy smiles again.