Second Week

A short horror story - suitable for everyone.

Second Week - by Cynical

Hello. My name's Howard. Annoyingly and excessively called "Coward" by my gorgeous wife: Sofia. It's a pretty complicated history between me and her. Ever since our daughter began going to a primary school, Sofia and I argued almost every night about how Sofia wanted to move to a more spacious house for Ellie but I insisted not to waste the rest of our money. I was a coward not to do something for our family or even to take a risk. Those were just the small fights. Eventually, we ended up talking about how I wasn't even a good father and that Sofia quite literally burnt our money on clothes from House of Fraser. After that, I practically lost track as to why she hated me so much, yet I still had feelings for her. This was not a good life for Ellie; she was growing up and a child needs the support of both parents to live a happy and healthy life. At least there was one thing that Sofia and I could agree on. I was to find my own place (I already had my eyes on a decent apartment space). Every first week: Sofia would take care of Ellie at her house, then every second week: I would look after Ellie in my apartment. We hoped it would give her the best of us both. I wasn't entirely sure if it was a good idea. I'm still not.

I stayed up for hours in my apartment last Monday, fixing a website problem on my laptop. For some strange reason, I couldn't sign into a social media account of mine. Could it have been that my password was incorrect? Forcing myself to stay awake, I typed the letters, 'HowardJ' in the password box. It was incorrect. Would it be, 'november3rd1776'? No, it was incorrect again. What about, 'GreenMug993'? It still didn't work! Incredibly agitated, I was frustrated with my inability to sign in. Honestly, it was stressful.

Suddenly, in the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a tired, juvenile girl slowly limping her way to the fridge. The pink night-dress clouded her body, exposing her pale feet. Her frizzy, black hair was let loose and hung like a towel over her face. My heart skipped a beat.

Looking up, I came to reality and discovered that the tired, juvenile girl was in fact: Ellie. I calmed myself down and returned to my business. Poor Ellie, she was so hungry in the night she came to get food from the fridge. As soon as she gently picked up a bright, juicy apple, Ellie stepped into the adjacent room where her bed sat. I let her be, not wanting to disturb her.

Finally! Yes, finally. I had remembered my password for the profile. I rapidly typed each letter of Ellie's name into the password box and clicked 'Log In'. It worked! Well, I had remembered my password for my social network profile and it was time for me to head for bed, too. I switched off my ASUS laptop and tucked it in a shelf next to the television.

Yawning, I strolled to Ellie's room to give her a good-night kiss. Opening the door, my face was struck with shock. Ellie's bed was vacant. Ellie was not in her room.

Then it hit me. I realised the sick truth. It was not my week to take care of Ellie.

Author's Note

This is my first story on this website and I'm really looking forward to any feedback to help me in the future. Many thanks, a Cynical author.

Reviews

[Sanhorsey]

I find your writing easy to understand and fast paced. It definitely isn't boring and the sentences are well formed and clear; not the sort which you have to reread twice or thrice to understand.
Keep the good job up!