general short story looking for thoughts comments etc to the possible future plot. :) |
It was April the fourth 1966, and rain pitter pattered upon the cobweb-laden window sill causing a black cat to run in through the catflap. Kirsty Mclure, was a fiery young lady of 16, with flaming red hair,and the complexion of a ghost. The house was old and creaky, with a scent of tarnished oak, lingering in the atmosphere. The house was situated a few miles from the nearest town and was perfect for a family who valued privacy. An old fasioned radio, much like one you'd expect to find in a dusty antique store, was playing a crackly tune from its bellowing speakers. It played a twinkling dreamlike tune which it repeated over, and over again complemented by the high pitched 'laa'ing of the young girl. The back door was wrenched open as a deep wrinkle-faced man stumbled into the room. He was obviously distressed as he threw a smoking shotgun to the ground, his hair was dark and plastered to his face, and a large amount of thick stubble gave him a rough edge to his demeanour. His white vest was covered with a reddish brown tone which could only be described as a mix of mud and blood, and his hoarse voice ricocheted throughout the house;' Kirsty, where the fuck are you girl!... KIRSTY!'kirsty barely heard her fathers voice over the radio but once she did a ripple of fright pulsed throughout her body.Over the past few weeks, kirsty had noticed the distinct changes to the way her mother and father reacted to one another, her mother had spent alot of her time crying alone in her room, she had developed bruising along her fragile arms and a deep purple bruise that covered the right side of her downtrodden face. Her dad had changed alot too, he had become depressed, angry and depended on violence as a way to solve the families issues. Ever since kirsty had been on the recieving end of a plummeting shovel, she never questioned her father again. It was punishment, she soon found out a few months back, for asking him why her mother had lashes on her back. Her father had told her quite severely never to talk of it again, and she didn't need telling twice.Kirsty sat in an old embroidered chair clinging to a downy pillow, as she awaited her fathers rage. She knew she was in trouble since she witnessed her father drag her mother, by the hair out into the garden, as she screamed cried and pleaded for him to let her go.What made it worse was she heard her name in an ear-piercing scream that echoed into the deepest darkest corners of her soul. And soon the time came.'KIRSTY GET THE FUCK UP!' he said as he marched his way over to her and grabbed her wrist... AND YES KIRSTY NOW ITS YOUR TURN!! SHE CANT PROTECT YOU NOW, THE STUPID BITCH IS DEAD!!!' she grabbed at the chair for dear life but all she could grip was the pillow.'THIS IS ALL HER FAULT KIRSTY!!, YOUR MOTHER CHEATED ON ME!!'She was petrified and it showed as tears flooded down her face. She was, however, silent. 'I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT A WHORE SHE WAS!!! AND IM SORRY I HAVE TO DO THIS,' at that point he pushed her into the large pictured, hallway and she tripped backwards onto the stone floor.He grabbed the pillow from her grasp and simply stared at her face as it disappeared beneath. A firm pressure was all it took and within a few minutes the struggling stopped.After a few minutes, he glanced at his hands, and reality crept over him. He lifted the pillow from her delicate face, and dark, dull lifeless eyes pierced him. In remorse he allowed tears to shed from his eyes, they landed upon her cheek and rolled helplessly off onto the floor. He picked himself up and shuffled over to the door, where he picked up the discarded shot gun. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him, within the fresh air, a dove sounded in the distance, the breeze played upon his face, and then with a sharp, earth shattering crash he followed his wife and daughter. Any thoughts feelings or ideas for a continued plot I'd love to hear from you :) |