Red. Blood. Voice. Jake. Bag. Body. Dead

The boy stops suddenly and so does the scratching. “I hear you. Please help me.”...A boy discovers the sins of his father.

Scratch. Scratch.

“Someone please help me.”

A voice. Scratch. Scratch. A young boy slowly approaches an oak door. He steps carefully and softly on polished wooden floors. Creak. The boy stops suddenly and so does the scratching.

“I hear you. Please help me.”

Again. A voice. A familiar voice. The boy swallows and continues cautiously towards the door. “Can you please open the door? I'm scared.”

The voice. Fear. Raw fear. Familiar.

The boy reaches the door and stands there.

“Are you still there? Please answer me.”

The boy rests his palm against the oak door. He glides his small hand over crafted ridges and eases down towards a bronze door handle. His heart beats fast. ThumpThump. He closes his small hand around the curved metal handle. A masculine hand firmly grips the boy's shoulder. Father.

“Didn't I tell you not to go near this door Leland?”

The boy tenses and nods. “Then why are you by the door?” The boy swallows and continues staring at the oak door. Heavy sigh.

“Go to your room son. Don't come back down here. Am I understood?” The boy nods. Muscles tense in fear.

“You won't get punished this time but disobey me again and I will whoop you. Understand?” The boy nods.

“Okay now go.”

The boy turns and races back up the stairs. He closes the door behind him.

He goes into a living room where an older boy sat on the white carpet.

“Did you see anything Leland?” The younger boy shakes his head.

“Damn. Ah well.” The older boy goes back to watching television, devoting his full attention to animated characters. The younger boy sits down next to him. He also getting lost in bright colors and loud sounds.

It was hours later before the father came back upstairs. The older boy already in bed but the younger boy still awake. He sits on the couch and stares at the screen. He has long stopped watching the television. It now was background noise to his thoughts and light to the now dark room. “Why are you still up? It's ten. You should be in bed.” The boy stares at the garbage bag in his father's hand. It was lumpy and full.

The father shifts the bag behind him. “Go to your room. Now.”

His voice. Firm. The boy stares. Red. A lot of red. Red all over the white button up and red on the blue jeans. The father sighs heavily. Impatient. He grabs the boy tightly by the arm.

“Now I don't know what's wrong with you today, but I will not tolerate disrespect. When I say do something you do it!”

Whap! The boy winces and grabs at his leg. He rubs at the sting.

“Now. Go. To. Your. Room.” The father pushes the boy roughly towards the stairs. The boy hurriedly runs up the stairs and into his room. A door opens and slams. The boy crouches near his window and watches. The father throws the garbage bag in the back of a black truck. He gets in and speeds away into the night.

Next morning Natalie Phisher comes. She's hysterical. She couldn't find Jake. Her son. He went missing yesterday. The father promises to help find him. The boy watches from the stairs. His mind racing. Pieces connecting to each other at a fast pace. Scratch. Scratch. A familiar voice. Eyes connect. Father. Son. One's eyes in realization. The other in fierce warning. Red. Blood. Voice. Jake. Bag. Body. Dead. The boy watches as Natalie Phisher cries over her lost son. The boy knew what she didn't. Red. Blood. Voice. Jake. Bag. Body. Dead.

Author's Note

I know it's written kind of weird. Sorry about that. Should i write it a different way or change some things. Or add more detail. Any suggestions are helpful. Thanks for reading. Really appreciative : )

Reviews

[Dan Ryoma]

I liked it. I would however consider giving the characters names and making them seem more real. Hearing the characters referred to as younger boy or older boy became tiring. I also think that this story could use some length. Everything seems to happen really quickly when considering the gravity of what happens in the story. The tension should grow as the little boy gets closer and closer to his realization. Take your time and really develop the environment that these people are in to make that realization more profound. I liked the repetition and the one word sentences at the end but I wouldn't dwell on those too much. I loved the idea of the story and think that this could be really great if you bring the world and characters closer to us; as in make them seem real to the reader.