Grand Father Dieries

Reads: 430  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Its the late 1600's. A teenage grand daughter gets put into her grandfathers safe keeping for the night. After she gets comfortable he brings up a story of his childhood. he confesses his Demons and his upbringing until in all comes crashing down.

Submitted: April 24, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 24, 2016

A A A

A A A


Story one

Michaels Beginnings

 


 

I hear from a around the corner of my small home. Being as it is night time I was not really expecting visitors. My wrists cracked with a sharp pain as my hands push off of the chair. The fire in my living room was dwindling light as a peer around the corner I see my daughter. Her brown hair glistened with the soft red glow the fire let out. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness but they held an unmistakeable bit of angst.

 

“What is the matter jessica. You're going to give your old man a heart attack”

 

I muttered in my gravely voice that beckons the fact I just woke up.

 

“Your grand daughter needs a place to stay for the night. Her father left without warning early this evening. I fear he is worrying for his life and ran. This has become all too familiar to this family. He told us to leave the house at once…”

 

Her voice shaking. As her mothers did when I had to leave her in my youth. I laughed in a way of surprise to see my daughter with all she’s been through in her rough time growing up to seek her father's help. After all I was the man leaving the house fearing for my family's life. In my time I have fought many personal demons. Not to mention Demons taking the physical form of men throughout my life. So I jumped out of my chair.

 

“Without a doubt jessica! Temilynn is safe with me. But you go on now and don't forget I’m here. Wouldn't want you to leave a teenager alone with a crusty old adventurer for too long”

 

I giggled out a happy chuckle i have not seen my grand daughter in a long time. We live in separate towns I figure a good 6 hour trip from here.

 

“Good. She is outside now tending to your horse. When I leave I will send her in”

 

As she walked back out the door I finished laying more wood in the fire. It is a late night but I was happy to get things ready for my grand daughter. I put some fresh chamomile tea in the pot to heat up with the fire. If I know one thing it's that a fresh pot of tea would put any young soul to rest.

 

Not much time went by and the door came open. A face much like all the women before her. A simple pure complexion flickered in the fire's light. With the blond hair she got from her father and her height as well seeming to be inches over my own. She was a beautiful one. I always stand shocked knowing that she is over the age of sixteen but still has yet to find a suitor. I’m glad her father is letting her find her own. And she doesn't seem ready the fire of adventure burns in her young heart so bright It lights mine back up whenever I see her.


 

“Hello Grandfather”

 

I couldn't help but give out a laugh

 

“How many time must a tell you call me something else like pop or pap. That makes me feel old a shit! Haha, your mom raised you with great manners. I’m boiling you a pot of tea. We can sit and you can tell me about what has been going on. I want to hear everything!”

 

“Well grandpa..”

 

She said with bright eyes looking up at me as she sat on the carpet.

 

“I was hoping you could tell me the story of what made you leave your parents long ago!”

 

I feel a sharp pain run down my neck. I hate the feel of satan's hands resting around my neck as I tell this story. My stomach churns and my heart sinks. As I tell her

 

“My life has many regrets. I have seen many things, and felt even more. I remember the feelings my mother made me feel as a child. First thing i can think is hate. Then come bitterness can the feeling of cold she brings to my heart. My father was not much better. In fact I wished him death every day I awoke. But you see this is my regret. My father wanted to make me strong. A feeling I never felt I had. Until it was all taken away from me”

 

Her eyes looked down at the floor as a poured her and myself a cup of tea.

 

“It's alright though I have my family now to carry on from them. And I changed from them. My father wanted me to feel strength by giving me nothing but weakness. But you see strength is in everyone’s hearts. Including yours and you will find it as I did”

 

So I will tell you this story along with her. Pour your tea and take your s*** now. It's one hell of a journey.

 

I was with my father at the age of sixteen. We were in his tavern. It was located on a road in eastern England my Job was to serve beer and alcohol to all the wanderers and nomads. It wasn't too often a time when a drunken bastard tried to fight me. I carried a small dagger around my waist to defend myself my father trained me with it to keep me away from guns. Those damn things. I could go on a rant all day. But I won't.

 

I entered the tavern there was smith. A Friend of my fathers. He was in the military in his youth but he’s a crusty old man now. Always with a drunk look on his face trying to drink away the horrors he faced in his younger years. He had stringy white hair that always stood in the same way no matter the wind or rain. It wasn't too  rare to see him with his mutt walking the streets looking for his house then sleeping in the gutter.




 

“Well Jack”

 

He muttered looking over his glass as the sun was fading behind the glass window beside him

“You would never guess my kind of day by the weather I can assure you that”

 

“Whats wrong”

 

my father said as he cleaned the glass in his hand. At this point I sat down in a chair reading the bible as my father always wanted me to do. But I felt compelled to listen to the conversation further.

 

“My time here is falling to a close. If I don't put the glass down soon I will die. And with me my memories and my knowledge”

 

“You mean like your fighting skill you're always going on about?”

 

My father said but was quickly interrupted by smith.

 

“listen!“ he roared

 

“I’m getting old I need one last adventure. I need some-one to raise to carry on my life for me, and to do the things I couldn't even dream of”

 

“I assume you're asking to take my son again?”

 

My father said with both his hands on the table looking smith dead in the eye.

 

“Michael it's time you leave”

 

He said roaring at me. Dad was mad. I knew that pain tonight would befall me. So I went upstairs to my mother. Being that I was in a rush I left my bible down in the tavern. I go up and my mother was there ready to beat the shit out of me for displeasing my father. As soon as I rounded the top of the stairs like a drum.

 

BAM!


 

I felt to the floor it wasn't to uncommon to have cookware smashed across my face and I hit the floor with my ears ringing. I look up to see my mother tears in her eyes. But it wasn't enough to cover her rage. It's not uncommon to hear my father tell bar goers my mother was possessed by a demon but I know the truth. Maybe a not a demon possesses her but my father himself. I knew when I messed up she had felt the whip more than once. It was his way of keeping us in line.

 

As I laid in bed that night I couldn't help but to stare out at the people leaving. Stumbling around and all of the happy faces coming in. seeing the stars in that black sky was surreal but it shortly ended as my mind took over and I fell asleep

 

I couldn't have been asleep long before the sound of gunfire racketed through my house. People were screaming running out of the bar. I saw light under the crack in the door flickering like a candle. With a sharp scream like the sound of lightning followed by a deep thud of which sounded like a sack of led hitting the floor. This was it I ran out the door with my blade in hand ready to face the threat.

 

I look up there he is smith. He was crying on his knees. A sword bathed in blood lay right next to him. His hands soaked with the blood as well. And it soon hit like falling off the roof onto wood. My mom. Lay there motionless on her back. Eyes looking directly back at my door. I couldn't keep the tears away. But with those tears for the first time in my life. I felt the Strength. Like 100 of the strongest horses behind me pushing me. I charged at smith. I felt such will such speed. I knew I could lift this tavern of the fucking ground. And that was It that's all I remember before getting tied up. Cold on the stone outside. With a sack over my head. I could hear the crackling of the fire. Not in a fire place but the tavern itself. The warmth embraced me. My mother. I will avenge her death. It’s not over. It won't ever be over.  

 


© Copyright 2019 gregory ames. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Historical Fiction Short Stories