I decided to put one of my short stories on here. I never post any of my writing, and this is what I am working on today, and I would just like opinions. -pds
Damn it. The sun has permeated the drapes that he thought were closed tighter than they actually were. The new day has overtaken him, and he is left no option but to greet the morning. When his eyes open, he is instantly startled in the way that most are when waking up in an unfamiliar place. His first day in Chicago is awaiting him. First days are always the worst. He briefly recalls his some of his first mornings. His first morning of school, his first morning with a hangover, his first mourning after his mother’s passing.
After postponing the inevitable as long as possible, he gets out of bed. Like every morning before this as long as he can remember, he proceeds to start his day in the same manner. The coffee has almost finished brewing, and the news is playing in the background. There is something he finds remarkably soothing about his morning routine.
‘Seventeen more soldiers killed in Iraq yesterday…. ‘ the television muttered in the background. He used to be so passionate about the war. He used to care so much. There is only so much time a man can remain passionate about something while realizing more and more how inconsequential he is to it’s existence.
The walls the new apartment have are that lovely color of flat white that all recently vacated places posses. There wasn’t enough time to put up any sort of decoration last night after unpacking all of his other belongings.
The closet is full however. He pulls out his favorite hoodie, embroidered with the word ‘Canada’ on the front with a maple leaf resting below it.
After finishing his straight black morning liquid catalyst, he decides to leave his homestead in his effort to get acclimated to the new place.
It is late January, and the Chicago air is cold and bitey, and he is forced to put his head down just to be able to keep his eyes open. Most people would detest having to make this compromise, but he found it comforting as a nostalgic reminder to him of when he was in his early youth growing up in the Upper Peninsula.
As the voyage into the heart of the city was beginning, he noticed his neighbor’s door was slightly open. Knowing how expensive it is to heat a place, and how fast warm air will dissipate from an apartment, he decides to meet and inform them.
He decides to knock on the partially open door, but he receives no response. There is a Radiohead album resonating out from inside of what sounded like a back room. He decides to knock again, and after no answer, he decides to enter.
Living in a big city is expensive. The apartment complex that he moved to wasn’t in the best part of town. Decent area, but not the kind of place where you leave your doors unlocked. He decided that he should announce his entrance, just so he wouldn’t be perceived as an intruder. Still no reply.
The apartment was set up very much like his. As he walked past the vestibule, he glanced into the kitchen. A burner on the stove was glowing red, with a pair of old metal scissors resting on it. He noticed that the scissors had some sort of dried substance on them, but he didn’t take the time to examine them.
As he walked toward the bedroom, he noticed the odd feng shui of the living room. In the center was one plastic chair, and a small television with a VCR pushed against the far wall.
When he cracked the door he found her sitting in a corner with tears running down her face.
The dull white carpet was soaked in crimson puddles. In the bedroom was just a twin bed that was made up with a pair of pillows with a violet comforter.
She glanced up at him water logged cheeks, and just mouthed the words to him,
“Help me”. He just stood there in shock for a second, and then he felt his heart leap out of its cavity. He loved her instantly.
There was something indescribable about her that he could just not overcome. He decided he was going to wrap her wounds, and take her to the emergency room. The entire time he was driving her, and even while waiting for her at the hospital he couldn’t shake what he saw when he had opened that door. He knew that what he had seen was what he always desired, and she sat there crying out for him to help her, beautifully broken.