Create in 2008 - February

Not really proud of this(personally I think this story fuckin' sucks), but oh well; I had to start writing sometime. I hope to write more short stories and maybe even poems in here later.

The Prompt: You come home. It’s late and so dark you can barely see your hand in front of your face. What you can see is that the back door of your home is wide open. Suddenly you are consumed with the feeling that something…someone, who doesn’t belong, is in your home.


-I had never seen the roads this dark before. Then again, I had never been out this late before. With the whole milk calling shotgun, the clock read off 1:32 A.M. and James Mercer sang melodically on the burnt CD. I took a right into Boulder Run and kept moving toward 32nd, passing the abandoned local park. Very few of the houses had their lights on. And why should they? It was one in the morning for Christ’s sake! If I hadn’t wanted my Wheaties tomorrow morning, I wouldn’t even be on this little venture.
-My house was coming up soon and that meant going to bed after dropping the milk in the fridge. I took a left passing the Nelson’s shack and then laid eyes onto my very own.
-“Tharr She Blows!” The nice thing about driving alone was that you could say whatever the hell you wanted.
-But something wasn’t right. . . Is that the back door open? No, it couldn’t be. Shit, it was.
-I had gone to Stan’s house to complain about his mutt pissing on my lawn and had probably forgotten to close it.
-Yeah, that’s it. I forgot to shut the door.
-I hung a left, paused half way up the drive way, and allowed the garage door a second to catch up before proceeding to pull in and shut off the old gal. I stepped into my two floor house, shook off the shoes, and hung up the jacket. Walking toward the kitchen to set the milk in its rightful place, I turned on the lights as I went along. After the milk was put away, I headed toward the back door. I stepped outside and looked around before closing it. I’m not going to lie, I was a little scared. I know it had just been an accident leaving the door open, but still, someone could have came in and stolen something. I checked the floor for tracks or any sign that someone had entered.
-No muddy footprints, no hair strands, no green ooze.
-I had a good chuckle over the last one. My imagination was getting the best of me. I started to head toward the stairs. At the top, the hallway was perpendicular to the staircase and you could either take a left towards the guest room or a right to the master bedroom and bathroom. I took a quick look around the second floor to make sure nothing was gone and more importantly to calm myself down. All the rooms seemed to be untouched. Nothing looked like it was out of place.
-If someone had come in with the intention to steal shit they wouldn’t have left everything in such good condition.
-I went back downstairs to watch some TV before bed. The fact that the door had been open was unnerving.
-Just turn on the TV and relax, Drew. Nothing is in the house. Relax.
-Reruns and infomercials seemed to be the only thing on at this late hour. Fuck the writer’s strike. My eyelids grew heavier by the second. I didn’t have the will to stay awake. It was useless to resist. I slowly drifted off. . .


-I was startled awake by some hardly audible noise. I wiped off the dribble running down the side of my chin. My watch read 2:25.
-It must have been the TV.
-I grabbed the remote and turned off the tube.
-There it was again. I know I heard something.
-Something was upstairs.
-But . . . I checked didn’t I? Nothing was up there. Nothing had been out of place.
-There it was again. Something was moving up there. My heart began to race.
-Drew, you checked. Stop being a paranoid bitch. Get over it.
-I wasn’t going to stand around either way. I got up and headed toward the kitchen. Pulling open the cabinet drawer, I extracted one of the cutting knives. If something besides my imagination was upstairs, they were going to regret ever coming in here.
-I stopped at the start of the staircase and began to listen while attempting to contain my breathing. I hadn’t heard anything since right after waking up.
-This is silly Drew. Just fucking go upstairs, calm your nerves, and go to bed.
-I crept up the stairs trying my best to not make a noise. Every time the stairs made a small creak my heart skipped a beat. I was slowly getting near the top and I still heard nothing.
-This is fucking stupid.
-I quickened my pace while getting closer to the top. There wasn't going to be anything up here. I looked toward the left.
-Nothing in the guest. . .
-There was a quick movement to my right. A baseball bat flew through the air and struck my right shin with incredible force. I could barely hear the snapping of the bone over my sudden shriek of agony. My body collapsed to the ground. I continued to screamed in shock and pain. I looked up and the last thing I saw was the bat heading towards my face. Then everything went dark.


-He was still alive. Out cold, but definitely still alive. I had made sure the blow to his head didn’t have enough force to kill him. I picked him up and started to head toward the basement. The only thing I could do now was wait. Then the fun would begin. . .

(Worst.
Ending.
Ever.)