Origins

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 5 (v.1)

Submitted: April 26, 2013

Reads: 60

Comments: 1

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Submitted: April 26, 2013

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It has been a week, and there is a lot to write down.

I finished the book. I cried while writing the last chapter. I left the finished novel underneath my pillow and I had placed my journal in my pocket like I always do.

It was Sunday when my father came home. He was wearing a pinstriped suit and had a proud medal hugging his chest. He ran up to me to give me a hug but stopped short when he saw my face.

“You’re still annoyed aren’t you?”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, how ignorant of him to think I wasn’t anymore. He sighed and walked past me and upstairs, the smile now gone from his face. I turned around and followed him with my eyes, at the top of the stairs he turned right toward my bedroom. I waited patiently for him to realize his mistake and turn back round toward his own bedroom, but that moment never came. I heard bangs on the wall and realized my father was on his anger rages again. I headed up the stairs to my bedroom to calm him down. I walked into my bedroom to find him reading my book.

He put the various notepads down and stared at me. I could see tears on his cheeks and anger in his eyes. He jumped for me and threw me down onto the bed.

“You’re nothing but a rebel scum like your mother!”

I spat back at him

“I’m the scum? I’m not the one who has blood on my hands!”

My father picked me up and dragged me down the stairs.

He was no longer my father, just a man in my house. I remembered the time when he taught me how to ride a bike, how to swim. The jokes we shared about women. Everything that seemed bright and interesting had just turned into a dull hourglass that had just ran out of sand. I could no longer hold onto the faith onto the Union; I hadn’t prayed the Union prayer for a week now. My father The man slammed me into a blue chair in the left corner of the living room. He punched me round the face and headed toward the kitchen. I screamed for help, but we had no neighbors for we were out in the country and I’m guessing the policeman had left with the man’s arrival.

The man came back in with rope and tied me to the chair, I wanted to slap myself. Why hadn’t I just ran out the front door?

The man took out a kitchen knife from his pocket and pressed it against my neck.

“In the glorious shadow of Him I hereby rid this world of another who oppresses the good will of the Union.”

I begged him not to do it as he pressed the knife deeper into my neck, he hadn’t pressed it deep enough to spill blood but I winced all the same. This was to be it; this was to be my death, no significant remembrance in history, just a body on the water.

I let a tear roll down as a knock came from the door. The man yelled that it was open and a policeman came in and saw the situation. He automatically pulled out his revolver and pointed it at the man.

The man looked at the policeman.

“I am doing my duty as a citizen of the Union, this boy here, is a rebel just like his mum.”

The policeman lowered his revolver and laughed.

“Two in the family? Unlucky kid. But I’m afraid that you should keep this one alive.”

The man nodded and took the knife away from my throat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the note pads I had written the book on. He threw it at the policeman’s feet.

“I suggest you read this, or take it to your general or whatever. But then burn it.”

All my work was going to be destroyed just for reviewing lies.

The policeman took the notepads in his hand and read the first line. He started to laugh.

“This is beautiful. The idea of it is outstanding. This truly is a piece of art. Too bad it’s against everything this world is for. My colonel has to read this, then your fate will be decided kid.”

The policeman came over and untied me, the man stepped back from me and sneered at me.

No longer my Father. No longer a Family. No longer a Life.

I was took to a police station in the capitol. And I sit in a cell waiting right now.

I hear screams and moans in the night. Three guys beating one in the cell opposite me. Right now a guy is snarling at me from his cell, I’m scared but they’re calling my name. I need to go, the ending that I will never get to has come.


© Copyright 2019 Aaron Crowley. All rights reserved.

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