The Well

         There was nothing special about this well. In fact, to any passer-by, it looked like any other well, quite stereotypical with its small, pitched roof, stone casing, and a bucket at the end of a rope that was attached to a hand cranked pulley. But to Jack, it was much more. It represented all of his hopes and dreams, a lucky wishing well of sorts. Since his sister ran away, he found himself here more and more often, throwing pennies down the well, wishing she would come home. Truthfully, Jack thought it ridiculous. With the constant outpouring of grief in this house, Jack needed some hope. But, it was more than that. There seemed to be a calling from the well. That too seemed ridiculous to Jack, but it was there none the less. He tossed a penny down the well, made a quick wish for his sister's return, then retrieved the water.
         Later that night, Jack sat in his room listening to his parents fight, again. His father was drunker than usual tonight and was in no mood to play second fiddle to his wife's busy work. On nights like this, Jack often snuck out his window to go to the well. He knew this was one of his sister's favorite spots as she too would sneak out at night and meet boys here. She always thought she was being sneaky, but Jack could hear her moaning, sometimes even crying, especially when she first started sneaking out. But, Jack too young to understand the ins and outs of young teenage lust, assumed both was normal, or so it seemed from listening to the older boys.
         As Jack approached the well, the calling came, as it always did. The calling was calming and powerful. Often times, he was too busy to be over taken by it, but at nights, Jack often fought urges to lower himself down, just to see what was in the bottom. Tonight was no different. The calling was strong and seemed to promise answers. Jack sat on the edge with his feet in the bucket, contemplating how to get himself back up if he were to lower himself.
         Light suddenly spilled from the back door as his father stumbled out, back turned to Jack. "Fuck you, you whore! Don't tell me how to run my house!" his father screamed as he shuffled back to the screen door, continuing to scream. Jack made a sudden motion to jump to the far side of the well to stay hidden, but his foot stuck in the bucket and with a small yelp, Jack found himself falling to the bottom.
         Jack groaned as much for his scrapes as for the fact that the rope broke. The groan carried in the new silence as his father approached the well. "Janice, is that you?" Jack heard his father stammering to the well. "I know this is crazy," he continued as he approached, "but I find myself drawn back here," he said with a bit of a chuckle. "I didn't want to do it," he said, his mood suddenly somber as he fought back tears, "but you just couldn't keep your little whore more shut, could you?" he finished up. Jack took short breaths hoping not to be heard. "I didn't want to make you fuck those men for money, but what choice did I have? I was just asking you to do your part in the family! Your cryin' and moanin' keeping your mother up all night, probably your brother too! All I was asking was for you to do your part for the family..." he trailed off sobbing. Jack heard his father walking off into the woods, falling and passing out just beyond the first few trees.
         Jack just sat there, absorbing what he has just heard, not sure what to make of it. He heard the screech of the screen door, then the light pitter-patter of feet approaching. He looked up and saw his mother standing at the edge of the well, looking up at the moon. "I often come here," she said aloud, talking to no one in particular, "as if called here" she said with tears glistening down her face. "Maybe I just come here as a wishing well, hoping you'll come home some day. But, I can't say that I honestly expect you to after what your father put you through." She paused briefly, stifling down tears. "I can't say that I expect you to knowing that I lied in bed at night, listening to you crying and moaning and never did anything about it." She fought back more tears. "And when you came to me, I sushed you, acting like it never happened," she wasn't able to hold back the tears any longer. "I know this doesn't pay our penance," she said sniffling, "but at least this will end our suffering. If you ever do come back, just find your brother and take care of him," she finished, rushing to her feet in a determined motion as if moving before she lost her nerve.
         "Freddie, you son of a bitch," Jack heard he yell, "I hope you rot in hell for what you've done!" she screamed in a shrill voice, followed by the loud bang that Jack knew all to well to be his father's shotgun. "I'll be there with you!" she shrieked, then Jack heard the shotgun go off again.

         And silence.

         "Mom!?!" Jack cried out from the bottom of the well. "MOOOOM!?!?!" but there was no answer. Only then did Jack see the foot that had been in front of his face all along. Not just a foot, but a whole leg as if there were someone else in the well with him, only they fell head first. Jack looked closely at the foot in the moonlight. It was old and it was dirty, but Jack would recognize his sisters shoe anywhere.