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Not Titled Yet ;)

Book By: Tristan Windsor
Young adult

This is the first few pages of a book I may continue writing, may not. Depending on the reviews I get, I will post everyday.

Submitted:Mar 19, 2013    Reads: 12    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   

I hadn't meant to hurt him. The timing was all wrong, the day just wasn't a good day. That prick guest just didn't seem to be able to take no for an answer. I, Lewis Green had made a mistake.

It had started in the Kitchen. As I was making my daily ramen noodles. The water was just beginning to boil. My hands were struggling to open the package, and as I ripped it open the dry noodles sprang out, and covered the linoleum floor. If that wasn't bad enough, while I bent down to scoop them all up, I banged my head on the handle of the pot of boiling water. That of course had to then spill all over the cracked, peeling countertop, and then onto the floor where my bare feet were welcomed with scathing hot liquid. Then it happened.

At first, I thought it was my parents. This month was April, the month I always looked forward to in distain. My birthday was coming up, the joyous occasion when I had to see them. I suppressed a loud shout as I shook my feet around, dragging myself to the carpet in the living room. I shouted to the door that I was coming, composing myself.

The hallway that I refused to adorn with photos seemed extra long today. Staggering towards the yellowing door, I took a deep breath. How bad can it be? With one last sigh, I reached out and turned the loosely fitting doorknob. I should have known it wasn't them, I never got a phone call or a text. The person in the doorway was not any more welcome, but it was a small relief. With the florescent lights, the guy standing there could not have looked more terrifying. His sallow cheeks were amplified in the white light. It must have been from all the doors he'd gotten slammed into his face, because after a short look at him, I realized he was a Jehovah's Witness.

"Hello, how are you today?" He asked. I didn't really want to answer him, just slam the door and finish cleaning up the kitchen, but trying not to be rude, I forced a smile and told him I was fine. He said his name was Kevin, and he went ahead and energetically filled me in on how the world has numerous horrible events today, and how some people think that God may not exist or care about the human race. Then, he stuffed a bible in my face and told me to read a scripture on God stepping in to help us.

By now, I knew I should have ignored him. I gave him a smile and said that I had to check the food on the oven, but of course he said he could wait.

"You, know what? I just remembered that I have to get up really early tomorrow, can you come visit me some other time?" I lied. The guy looked at his watch and protested that it was only five at night, and that he was sure I could handle a few minutes of reflection on the bible, and I silently cursed myself for not coming up for a better excuse. Having given up on being polite, I told him to go.

The guy must have not done very well in social skills, because he told me that God wouldn't save me, and that I would fail judgement.

"Hey, this is my apartment, go away" I interjected sternly, furrowing my brow. I felt an outburst coming on, so I took a deep breath and told him, "Look, you seem like a nice guy, but I'm not in the mood." He looked at me, tilting his head. He seemed distressed, which surprised me, because doing what he does, I assumed he was used to this response.

"God won't be in the mood to spare you when he saves those who deserve it," The way he said that came off as snarky and rude to me. My hands started to shake, and I started to sweat. I had been this way since a kid, always having outbursts when things went downhill. This was one of those times. I stepped over my threshold, and grabbed his shirt collar. I could feel his neck, it was cold and dry like paper.

"How about you take your bible, turn around, and leave this building before I take it and shove it up your ass," I said.

It was too late, I was in my black and white thinking. It hadn't gotten this bad since high school graduation two years ago, when I found out Alicia Turner, my girlfriend of two years had been sleeping with my lab partner Alex. I had been in Chemistry with him when he told me that he'd been banging this 'really hot babe' I hadn't realized when he told me this he was referencing Alicia. At the ceremony, He came up and told me the truth, and I thought he was pulling my leg, but when Alicia concurred with his statement, telling me I had gotten 'old' I lost any sign of rationality. Before I knew it, my hands were around Alex's neck, cutting off his air supply. One of the attending parents saw us brawling and got a few men to pull us apart. That had been the worse I'd gotten.

Now two years later I was doing the very same thing, and realizing this, I released my grip on him and slammed the door. I could hear him gasping outside, fumbling around in front of my door for his bible. I heard him get up, and sprint down the hallway. Shortly after I heard the click of my neighbor's door opening. She must have heard the scuffle between Kevin and I. Standing there, with my head on the door trying to think about what I should do to quiet the whole situation up, I hear the beep of her smartphone. Still fuming, I opened my door to find her dialing a number in her phone. Three short beeps.

"Ma'am, you don't need to call anyone about this, everything is settled down," I tried to console her. Her eyes widened, and she ran into her apartment. What was the big deal, I barely touched....

I looked down at my hands, and I am surprised to see the dark red liquid under my fingernails, the scratches on my hands now a light pink. What did I do? I thought I just grabbed his shirt and... No. I did much more. I shut the door, walking into the kitchen. The water on the floor was now cold, the noodles the least of my concern. My head felt light, and I somehow seconds later found myself on the ground. The world became dark, heavy, and cold. I felt myself sinking into the floor, my sweatpants slowly soaking up the water on the ground. Rock bottom.

I stayed there for a while. The night went on, my soiled clothing clinging to my skin, my heart beat slowing exponentially. How long had I been there? By the time I was able to get up, the small window in the corner of the living room was flooded with light from the devilish streetlamp outside. They usually don't turn on until midnight, so I assumed it was early in the morning. My joints were sore from the position I had been in, and I had been graced with a nerve wrenching headache. I guess that's what I got for attacking a Jehovah's Witness. I pulled myself off the ground and made my way to the door. My feet carried me down the hallway to the elevator. Why hadn't the police been notified? Hadn't my neighbor called them? Without stressing it, I got annoyed with the elevator and took the stairs. The sounds of my feet hitting the concrete steps made my head spin in pain. I didn't stop going.

Pushing through the front door of my apartment building, I made my way into the middle of the street. It wasn't terribly cold, but I felt the need to shiver. I decided to sprint down the street. My lips released a yell, my arms flailing by my sides. So that was what it felt like to be crazy. I went on like that for a mile or so, until I was overcome with exhaustion. I slowly walked down the road, there was an occasional car, but other then that, I was alone. The side of the road was chalked full of trash, the light poles buzzing. The light from them always made me cringe, with their hellish orange shining in my eyes.

Up the road I saw a car coming towards me. I had the urge to jump in front of it, to end this night, and all other nights. As it was coming around the bend, I clenched my fists and took three fast breaths, hyperventilating. Lurching myself forward, I bit my lip and expected impact, but I only heard the screech of tires.


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