Yunn
云
A short story I had come up with after reading the Halloween contest, but it's not spooky so I'm not going to enter this. I just needed to get this out of my mind so I can start on the spooky story. And here's music cause why not.[media]
[/media]Right before we first met, a smooth jazz song played, and then you approached me first. You put your arm around my shoulder, with a can of beer in one hand, and offered me a sip. I remember I said,
“Sorry, I’m underage.”
But you pushed me into it, reassuring me. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fun. It’ll take you to a whole nother world.”
Maybe I really wanted to have fun. Or was I desperate? I don’t really remember any more. Everything soon became a haze, my vision clouded, and my hearing, muffled. My family, friends, my surroundings, I came to forget them all until I had realized, all I had left was you. It was like you cast a spell on me, and like a puppet I played by your strings. Happily.
Without me noticing time had flown by. How many years have we known each other? I find it strange that I can’t remember that, although I vividly recall our meeting as if it was yesterday, and the things after. That silver shine, those piercing screams, the moments covered in red. Over, and over. Whenever it was over you’d praise me.
So why? After all these years, are you the one to back out? Having second thoughts? Have you finally developed a conscience?
I won’t allow it.
Now I ask, “Why are you so stiff?”
You don’t give me an answer. So I ask again.
“Is there something wrong?”
The silence still prolongs, and to take a closer look I took one step towards you. But you immediately step back, and the distance between us is seems further apart. The distance makes me uneasy, and I try to be calm. But it doesn’t work. I’ve forgotten to do so long ago.
Instead of a quiet, “Why?” It bursted from my lips as a shout.
Startled, you lost power in your legs and fell towards the floor. Unable to control myself, I lunged on top of you, pinning you so you wouldn’t escape, and I repeat, “Why?”
Why has it come to this? I do not know how, but at that moment in time, I had a pistol hidden beneath my dress. Did I know it would come to this? After you saw that you’re blank expression has transformed into fear. You are probably wondering why I had this, after all I was the one who had done the stabbing, and the one who called the shots had always been you.
I found this behind your pillow a couple of months ago. As I held the barrel to your head, you looked more desperate. Just what I wanted. Yes, become desperate. Say that it was my mistake. Say I was just overthinking things. Say I was wrong.
However, instead of the excuses and the lies you had always spout to escape death you uttered one word, to me. “M-Monster.”
It was quiet, as if you didn’t want me to hear it, but you couldn’t keep it to yourself. Could it be you had lost a screw in your head? The gun within my hands soon became shaky.
“Me? A monster?” I thought outloud, trying to process the word. Soon, I laugh. I laugh, and laugh, and it doesn’t seem to stop, as I take the barrel away from his head, and changed targets.
I looked at him one last time, smiling. And with a small yet pure voice, I say my last words.
“But, you’re the one who made me this way.”
At that moment, I see the broken bottles lying on the tile floor. The dull gray walls, and your face which had seemed to have aged these past few minutes. I hear the same smooth jazz tune, and think. Thank god.
Facing the muzzle, I pull the trigger.
It’s finally over.
[/media]Right before we first met, a smooth jazz song played, and then you approached me first. You put your arm around my shoulder, with a can of beer in one hand, and offered me a sip. I remember I said,
“Sorry, I’m underage.”
But you pushed me into it, reassuring me. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fun. It’ll take you to a whole nother world.”
Maybe I really wanted to have fun. Or was I desperate? I don’t really remember any more. Everything soon became a haze, my vision clouded, and my hearing, muffled. My family, friends, my surroundings, I came to forget them all until I had realized, all I had left was you. It was like you cast a spell on me, and like a puppet I played by your strings. Happily.
Without me noticing time had flown by. How many years have we known each other? I find it strange that I can’t remember that, although I vividly recall our meeting as if it was yesterday, and the things after. That silver shine, those piercing screams, the moments covered in red. Over, and over. Whenever it was over you’d praise me.
So why? After all these years, are you the one to back out? Having second thoughts? Have you finally developed a conscience?
I won’t allow it.
Now I ask, “Why are you so stiff?”
You don’t give me an answer. So I ask again.
“Is there something wrong?”
The silence still prolongs, and to take a closer look I took one step towards you. But you immediately step back, and the distance between us is seems further apart. The distance makes me uneasy, and I try to be calm. But it doesn’t work. I’ve forgotten to do so long ago.
Instead of a quiet, “Why?” It bursted from my lips as a shout.
Startled, you lost power in your legs and fell towards the floor. Unable to control myself, I lunged on top of you, pinning you so you wouldn’t escape, and I repeat, “Why?”
Why has it come to this? I do not know how, but at that moment in time, I had a pistol hidden beneath my dress. Did I know it would come to this? After you saw that you’re blank expression has transformed into fear. You are probably wondering why I had this, after all I was the one who had done the stabbing, and the one who called the shots had always been you.
I found this behind your pillow a couple of months ago. As I held the barrel to your head, you looked more desperate. Just what I wanted. Yes, become desperate. Say that it was my mistake. Say I was just overthinking things. Say I was wrong.
However, instead of the excuses and the lies you had always spout to escape death you uttered one word, to me. “M-Monster.”
It was quiet, as if you didn’t want me to hear it, but you couldn’t keep it to yourself. Could it be you had lost a screw in your head? The gun within my hands soon became shaky.
“Me? A monster?” I thought outloud, trying to process the word. Soon, I laugh. I laugh, and laugh, and it doesn’t seem to stop, as I take the barrel away from his head, and changed targets.
I looked at him one last time, smiling. And with a small yet pure voice, I say my last words.
“But, you’re the one who made me this way.”
At that moment, I see the broken bottles lying on the tile floor. The dull gray walls, and your face which had seemed to have aged these past few minutes. I hear the same smooth jazz tune, and think. Thank god.
Facing the muzzle, I pull the trigger.
It’s finally over.
