the end of something bills view

a story i wrote for english its based off an experpt by robert hemmingway, but its revamnt and goes from bills perspective

Bill’s Point of View

There were times when I felt like Nicks father and there were times when I didn’t, although I was only Nicks stepdad and I knew I couldn’t break the bond between him and his mom, I tried hard to get him to see me as his dad, and not just a dead beat loser that was dating his mom. Things were okay, I guess until they started to change and Nick brought a girl home, she had long black hair, and was about 6” 4’. It was obvious by her skin and her way of speaking that she was Cherokee, just like Nick and his mother. Her American name was Marjorie. And I was attracted to her the moment I saw her. Though I knew she was only 16.

 A week or so later I heard Nick talking and I told him that he had to break up with Marjorie. I knew she didn't belong with him. A sweet girl like her, he was going to break her heart.

I told him to break up with her, and to not lead her on. After a fight, he said he would break up with her, but he wanted to be gentle so he would do it on their fishing date, in a couple weeks.

Two weeks had past and I had forgotten about it, when I was walking through the woods, next to the old mill.to my surprise, I found Nick lying face down on a picnic blanket, and I heard Marj rowing away into the bay. I knew she was hurt but it was better this way.

I thought Nick would take advantage of her. I thought it was a good thing that I kept that from happening, and I thought I made things easier for her.

But when I found him lying face down on the ground, I realized that he had feelings for Marj. And honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to touch him, even though a certain part of me wanted to. And I knew that he had feelings when I asked him how he felt, and he told me to go away.

I should have hit him and abused him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I took a sandwich and left.

 I know he felt bad at the time, but it would save him a lot of pain and suffering in the future. Eventually she would have asked questions, and though I didn’t want to I would have had to kill her, to keep her from talking.

The sad thing is that a couple weeks ago, I saw Marj's name in the paper. She was in the obituary section, they had found her hanging in her family’s barn. She wasn’t completely dead, they tried to save her but she died a couple hours' later in her parent’s bed.

At least the way I would have done it, it would have been quicker, and a lot more sure proof, she wouldn’t have had to go through the degradation of having the doctors try to poke and prod her back to life.

             I figured Nick would be soon to follow. But I didn’t think he would go the way he did, I found him hanging over the pig pen, in the barn. With his legs half eaten. It was his job to feed the pigs, and I guess he did. Nick always did love animals but I didn’t think he loved them that much. 

We decided to bury Nick next to Marj. On the grounds of the old mill, the sandstone foundation of which will stand forever. As a monument to the pain felt 10 years ago by the me and the other workers and a monument, to my boy and the pain he went through, which was similar to my own, in more ways than he knew.

when Nick died, my wife went hysterical and tried to hang herself, after many failed attempts, and even after finding her in the bathroom with her wrists slit, almost to the bone, and taking care of the wounds for her despite her protests, and her crying in my arms, I knew she would keep trying until she couldn’t anymore, so I did things for her, I walked into our bedroom while she was sleeping, and I blew her brains out with my shot gun. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and it hurt my hand to pull the trigger. It took every bit of strength I had not to blow my brains out right there.

I kept telling myself that she would need someone to make sure she got buried n taken care of. That’s all I could tell myself to keep me from ending it. I cried for the first time in 10 years that night.   

Anyway, I decided to have her cremated and I had her ashes spread at the mill, ‘cause that’s what she would have wanted.

I still see her every night, she beckons me to the shore. She led me into the water, and suddenly I was pushed under. I would have drowned if it hadn’t been for a passerby who jumped in and saved me. Everyone saw it as a suicide attempt but it wasn’t, they brought me to Horton bay mental institution, and I was diagnosed with schizophrenia and every day I face physical torcher.

I still see my wife despite this, and she is still trying to avenge our son’s death.

Unbeknown to the guards I have been fashioning a rope from my cloths, and I intend to help my wife one last time tonight.  They will find me hanging in my “room”, I will finally be happy, with my wife and son, my son and marj’s death will finally be avenged.

And actually, as I put this rope around my neck the only thing I can think of is, for once, I feel like his dad, not just his abusive step-father. And for once, I understood how a person could feel so much love for someone that they couldn’t live without them. Because I now felt it, and my son felt it. And it caused us both our demise. 

Author's Note

i know its dark, but i honestly tried to keep it someone appropriate, but still i just started writing and didnt think and this happend.

Reviews

[Chris]

Sometimes the story HAS to look from both sides of view... and we stare at the result.