Clash at Walnut

A short story created from randomly generated characters, setting, plot, and theme. -------------------------------- Warning: Heavy swearing

Sunlight shone down onto Walnut Baptist, its massive, silver-plated

cross gleaming proudly where it stood atop the building. The white bricks refelcted pristine perfection into the gazes of the passersby when they glanced its way. The church was young and had yet to be tainted by the city's rebellious teenage gangs. They were notorious for vandalizing public property with their amateur logos, trying to instill intimidation amongst the other meager packs. It was a surprising miracle that they hadn't reached the new addition, for it offered an opportunity to acquire new territory. It had only put on its first service a week ago.

Inside, the mahogany pews had a sheen to them from their glossy finish. Reclining in one of these was a man, his head tilted to rest against the back of the pew. His eyes bore holes into the ceiling and his foot produced the only sound in the room, a steady beat from his Nike that tapped against the oak floor. It was already past service hours, but he had chosen to stay behind. The pastor had asked him if there was anything he could assist with, but the man simply stated that his lingering was due to personal reasons. He lifted his head, raking a hand through his sooty hair. A sigh hissed through his teeth.

She should be here by now. What's taking her so damn long?

Just as he was about to push himself off of the bench, the whoosh of the main entrance doors echoed throughout the room. Glancing over his shoulder, he scowled at what he saw. A woman was striding briskly down the nave towards him, each self-assured step swinging her dark ponytail. It's about damn time.

"Where the hell have you been?" He sat up and swiveled his body towards her, his gaze venomous as he peered at the approaching figure. "It's been a f*****g hour and you told me you'd meet me at noon."

"Relax, Travis. I'm here, aren't I?" She gracefully slid into the pew behind him and leaned forward, folding her arms presumptuously along the back of Travis's bench. Even though her eyes were cavalier, the smile adorning her face was as giddy as a kid in a toy store.

"So, have you heard?"

Huffing, he lounged against the pew. "Of course."

"Well?" Her steely gaze flashed. "Who do you think is gonna get it?"

Travis gave the woman a sharp sideways glance, his brow still displaying a frown. He couldn't believe she was acting so smug. "Gee, I dunno, Dianna," he sneered. "Why don't you enlighten me with your thought on that."

Dianna gave a short, amused snicker. "I'm going to be rich."

The hair on the back of Travis's neck bristled. He couldn't stand Dianna, even though she was the closest sibling he had. As children, their four year gap was completely disregarded. They had immediately clicked, ignoring the existence of their other brother and sister altogether. They were inseperable. Well, until she had to go and ruin everything.

Gritting his teeth, he looked away towards the altar. God, can I punch her in the tit?

"Easy, Trav. There's no reason to act so bitter." She peeled away from her brother's pew and casually leaned back into her own, crossing on knee over the other while fanning her arms out along the back of her bench. A brash expression settled across her freckled face. "You should have accepted the fact that I would inherit Katherine and David's money a long time ago."

"So?" he snapped, whipping around to glare at her. The way she used their parents' names as if they were just childhood acquaintances sickened him. Seeing her arrogant posture only feuled his internal rage more. "Just because you get to have all the f*****g money doesn't mean you have to sit there like a total b***h and smear that s**t in my face!" Dianna's cocky smile quickly dissolved at Travis's words, and her eyes tensed as she took in her fuming brother. "You'll probably just blow it all on men or alcohol or drugs or whatever else you do in your spare time!"

Travis didn't realize he was yelling, but he was aware of his anger. He stood up, tightly balling his hands as he glowered down at Dianna. His cerulean eyes were cold and bright, blazing with the heat of his fury. "All you care about is yourself! There are people that worry about you and love you, but you just brush us off!"

Hearing the commotion Travis was causing, the pastor rushed into the room from one of the doors near the sanctuary. The siblings hadn't acknowledged his sudden appearance, so he hollered to them. However, his attempt to gain their attention was futile, for their gazes were locked onto each other's so tightly that a war could erupt in the middle of the room and they'd never know.

"Don't." Dianna warned.

Travis snarled. "All you ever wanted was the money, wasn't it? Mom and Dad had plenty of it. Hell, they were practically swimming in it. And you just had to be their favorite, perfect child, filling them with so many hopes and dreams for your future. Then you just up and disappeared, didn't you?" 

He was shaking. After all this time, the resentment towards her was finally spewing over, too strong to force back into the bottle he'd had clamped shut for so long. He was eternally wounded, tired from the years he'd spent trying to piece the fragments of their shattered family back together. The voice that spoke was broken and spiteful. "This is your fault. Their divorce is your fault! You destroyed our family!"

SMACK!

The church grew still. Holding a hand over his mouth the pastor froze, alarmed by what he had just witnessed. It was as if time had stopped.

Travis's cheek burned. He could feel the tingling aftershock of the slap. His head had swung to the side from the force of Dianna's hand, and he couldn't help but hold it there in complete surprise. His eyes were wide, his mouth lightly parted in silent disbelief. She had never slapped him before. This wasn't the Dianna he knew.

The sudden click of Dianna's heels sliced through the quiet air. She stepped out from between the pews with a sigh. "I knew you'd go there," she murmured. "You haven't changed a bit." A pained laugh escaped her lips.

The sound of fluttering paper whistled in the air, followed by the gentle pat of something hitting the floor.

"Here." Dianna turned, leaving Travis where he stood. As she made it to the doors, she hesitated. "By the way," she called, looking over her shoulder. "Their marriage was already destroyed." The gentle wham of the doors signaled Dianna's departure. The church was once again silent.

Slightly recovering from what had just unraveled, Travis slowly turned his head and cast a gaze towards the large doors. She had walked out. Again. He was speechless. There was nothing left in him to say. He had run out of fuel, left to smolder like the snuffed flame of a candle.

Glancing down towards the floor, he saw what had caused the subtle noise. A picture was lying face up, as if it were looking back at him. He quietly squatted, picking it up with trembling fingers.

For a moment, his eyes just took in the big picture. It was his dad, with his arm around his mother's waist. He was there with his sister. All four of them were there like they should be. Everyone looked happy, like they used to be.

Wait. Four? There should be six of us.

Inspecting the picture once more, Travis's eyes widened. He tightly gripped the photograph in both hands. Staring at the image, he was unable to peel his gaze from the female figure standing beside his dad. A lump formed in his throat.

Who is she?