This is the last entry for our Dare to Scare
Comments can be posted through November 5th. The author with the most comments will win a $15.00 gift card. Contest winner will be announced on Tuesday,
November 6th. If you submitted a story to the LRC dropbox and it wasn't posted please see Mrs. Leahy. The English Department will be awarding a $15.00 gift card for the most creative and well written.
“And how does that make you feel?”
Same question, same setting, same person, same answer.
“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to figure that out?”
Why didn’t she understand? I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Why else would I be sitting in a stuffy room, with a woman I barely knew, telling her insignificant happenings from my childhood? She was supposed to tell me how to get “better,” whatever that may be.
“I’ve told you this before.” She huffed. “I can’t tell you what to feel. Our time is up for today. Same time next week?”
She was always so smiley. I didn’t like smiley.
“Sure. Whatever.” I grabbed my backpack and stumbled out of there as fast as humanly possible. I sprinted to my truck, not wanting anyone to see my bruises in the sunlight. Why had I insisted on short sleeves today?
The engine in my ’54 Chevy roared to life as I turned the key. I flipped on the radio, dialed my favorite station, and blocked out everything but the music. A song was playing, one I had never heard before. The melody was complex, the lyrics haunting.
“Moonlight over the broken river,
A mother’s cry through the silent night.
The widow destroys a life of her own,
Only death can make this right.”
“Enough of that.” I murmured, smashing the power button. “why is traffic so freaking slow today?”
Then I saw it.
The funeral flag.
She was only six years old.
She had so much life ahead of her.
I swear, I didn’t mean to do it.
Not that anyone believed me. I was the social pariah of my small town, all because of a stupid mistake.
But I guess it is no longer a mistake if it happens more than once. Read more...