Dead End Life - A Short Story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
[A Stage 2 English Assignment]

A young man, a loner, thinks his luck is finally about to change when he meets a stunning young woman. However, she has a terrible 'problem'...

Submitted: September 16, 2012

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Submitted: September 16, 2012



Another day goes by. Another bus ride, another boring shift, another microwaved dinner, another night of loneliness and self-loathing. At twenty-six, in the prime of his life, he had never planned on this. By now he should be overseas, living the high life, partying, living it up. Instead, he’s stuck in a dead-end job working the late shift, only to come home alone to an empty apartment. He doesn’t talk to anyone; his neighbours are hardly ever around. He secludes himself in his own world of self-pity and regret. With the lights off he sits with the TV down low. The lights flicker behind, and the shadows dance around the walls. He wonders if this is all it is. If there is anything else. He wonders what he could be doing if he had changed the slightest things in the past. Would things be different if he put in more effort? What about even a different name? He comes to the realisation, as he does every night, that it doesn’t matter; what’s done is done. With that, he falls asleep, the TV still on, awaiting yet another day of sheer nothingness.

The sun is high in the sky by the time he is woken by the deafening bang across the hall. Someone curses, and the sound of heavy objects being shifted can be heard through the thin walls. Then, a knock. On the door this time. No one ever visits him; he doesn’t know anyone. Who could it be? He slowly opens the door, and less than a metre away stands the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Jet black hair, barely reaching her shoulders, covers her forehead and reaches over her eyes, occasionally forcing her to flick it to the side. Her bright green eyes highlight the ever so slight shadow of her deep set facial features. Her eyebrows arch on the outer side just above her eyes, slanting downward sharply with a mischievous look on her face. Her nose and mouth blend perfectly with the rest of her facial features, having the slightest point just below the pinched bridge of her nose, and her luscious pink lips curve up to one side as she smirks with her playful smile. With her tongue she lightly adjusts her piercing, the ring around the left of her lip, wiggling it as she pushes it into the perfect spot. Her flawless pale skin contrasts the black leather jacket, covering a blue-and-white striped tank top. Her jeans, wrapped tight around her slender legs, seem to go on forever before reaching her light blue canvas shoes, and she stands almost a full foot shorter than him. A rainbow of colour reaches up from her chest to the side of her neck in the most beautiful design of curves and streaks like the most wonderful artwork. She stands looking up, with her hands clasped in front of her and her feet together. She introduces herself.

‘My name’s Indigo. My friends call me Indy though. I’ve just moved in across the hall, and I thought I’d go around and introduce myself, but it seems like you’re the only one at home.’ She smiles sweetly, but he notices there’s something off about her expression. However, he disregards this feeling as the movers drop yet another piece of furniture behind the strange young woman. He uncharacteristically invites her inside. Normally he wouldn’t let anyone inside his apartment, but there was something different about this girl. Something that he wanted to know. Indigo walks in and immediately takes a seat on the soft couch as he grabs a drink from the fridge. ‘A bit early for that, isn’t it?’ she says with a smirk as he hands her a beer. She takes it from him as he joins her on the couch. He sits silently, still trying to figure out what it is about her that makes him so uneasy as she tells him about why she is moving. To anyone else, the circumstances would seem quite normal, but not for him. Within minutes, her drink is finished. He offers her another, but she declines, claiming she must leave. After saying goodbye, he shuts the door, locking it behind her.

Weeks pass; days turn to nights. He continues to see Indigo. They become closer over time. She spends hours at a time at his apartment, and he spends hours at hers. Could it be? He’s found someone to spend time with, to finally give his life worth. He gets home from work each day, and actually looks forward to seeing her gorgeous face. Before he knows it, he has feelings for her. They grow stronger with every passing moment he spends with her. He has to tell her. He dedicates hours of his mostly useless time planning out exactly what he’ll say to her, and how he’ll say it. It needs to be perfect. After one particular shift he comes home to find an unfamiliar sight: a message on the answering machine. A light-hearted voice speaks. ‘Hey, it’s Indy here. There’s something I really want to tell you. I’m free tomorrow night, so I’ll come over to yours. It’s really important, so make sure you’re there. Bye for now!’ He can’t believe it. It’s the perfect opportunity! Does she feel the same? She must. It makes perfect sense. What else could it be? Why else would she show so much interest in him? No one else does. He barely sleeps that night. Finally, he’s met someone. Someone just for him. Someone that cares and respects him. Someone. For a few hours, all his problems seem to disappear. Gone. The only thing on his mind is this beautiful girl, with the ghostly white skin and raven-black hair.

The time is here. He’s got it planned perfectly. She’ll come in, sit down, just like usual. He’ll offer her a drink, and sit down next to her. He’ll subtly grab her hand as he gently says those three words he’s wanted to say for a while now: I love you. His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. His heart races; butterflies float around inside him. This is it. He opens the door, and sure enough, she stands there, looking as stunning as usual. She smiles sweetly, and after a quick greeting walks inside, sitting on the couch. He grabs a drink, and she takes it as he sits next to her. It’s all going exactly according to plan, just as he wanted it to. This is it. He looks her in the eye, those bright green colours absorbing him on the inside. His lips are parched as his mouth goes dry. This is it. He barely makes a sound before she raises her finger over his mouth, ensuring he doesn’t speak. Her gorgeous smile turns into a playful grin, while at the same her eyebrows arch down ever so slightly as she whispers, ‘Don’t talk. I know.’ Then, pain. Nothing but a sharp sting in his chest, like someone had driven a blade through his heart. He looks down and sees his shirt stained in crimson. Protruding from his chest: a blade. Through his heart. The initial shock wears off quickly, and he clutches the handle of the knife, pulling it out in a quick motion. Blood splatters over both of them as she licks the red droplets from her lips, still smiling with that evil grin. Holding his chest, he collapses off the couch, and lies on the floor, unable to make even the quietest of noises.

Indigo grasps the knife, and, after rolling him onto his back, straddles him, sitting on top. She drives the knife repeatedly into his stomach; his ribs crack with the force and blood flies all around the room. Red liquid pours from his mouth with every cough as he gasps for air, but to no avail. With eyes wide open, he looks her in the face. Her chalk-like skin is now covered in red as she lifts both arms above her head. He cannot move as she lowers it in a swift movement; the final blow. His heart stops, and the little amount of blood left in him ceases to move. Grinning from ear to ear, she climbs off, knife still in hand. He never even noticed the blade held behind her back. Too involved in the moment to even realise what was happening before it was too late. She raises the blood-stained blade to her mouth, licking it clean. With a final glance over her shoulder as she turns, she opens the door and walks through. Without batting an eye, she closes the door with a click of the handle and a dull thud.

© Copyright 2018 LindsayNash. All rights reserved.

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