The Last Figure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
something to make you think... i short story or fear and simplicity

Submitted: January 31, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 31, 2008



The Last Figure

Story by Robert S. Messenger


Simple town, simple day. The morning fog and mid day haze were a constant companion in such a town. As all days begin in Bethel, Arizona, this one was no different. Kids flocking to busses and parents to work. Friendly faces in neighbor’s windows and the same hit songs on the radio for the everyday drive- With the exception of 17 year old Bryant, and his 15 year old nagging sister Madeline, of course. A day can not begin on time or in an orderly fashion. Today’s dilemma, socks and the new man.

Yesterday marked their mom’s six month anniversary with Chuck, who by all means wasn’t the most sincere man but none the less the longest relationship their mom had embarked on since the divorce. It became a daily routine:

1. Wake up

2. Shower

3. Avoid the adults( esp. Chuck)

4. Grab a bite of food

5. Catch the bus that thankfully takes them away from the house.


Today was thrown out of sync when out pops Mr. Man of the Month from the master bedroom. Now this wouldn’t have been so awkward except for the leopard skin underwear this new man was wearing.

“Oh! Well hello there, the name’s Tom. You must be Bryant… Your mom said so much about you…” here the guy to whom introduced himself as Tom, realizes that there isn’t much else to say and fiddles with his ear.

“Don’t worry this is the normal around here. See you around… or maybe not. I guess we’ll have to see… not sure if my mom is into leopard skin tighties… so like I said… we’ll see…” And with a rolling of the eyes, Bryant slips past “Tom” and heads into the bathroom for his ablutions.

Things could have ended there except Tom saw this bit of info on “The normal around here” of interest and took it up with Justine the mother of the house hold. Justine was used to this sort of behavior out of Bryant and when he emerged from his morning wash immediately took after him with a ranting storm of words and chaos.

“Bryant Tyler! Why do you insist on ruining every relationship I have? ‘This is the norm around here’! Do you wish to make your own mother out as some sort of nympho slut?” Justine let out.

“No mom… you do that just fine without any help of mine!” Bryant had only been truly slapped by his mother twice in his life… this was the third,

“What? Do you not remember Ryan, or Chris, or Joshua, what about Terrence? But wait lets get into lately… where has Chuck been chased off too?” Bryant was on a role now, “The only other explanation for the disappearances is they all died… which I highly doubt…”

 “You’re going to be late. Get ready and we will deal with this when you get home,”


School was never a big deal. At least not for Bryant or Madeline. Top of they’re classes, Honors society, community service leaders, and not to mention Bryant who was graduating early had been accepted to Yale, Brown and Dartmouth colleges. It gave the town its glory. Academic challenges brought media and that meant publicity to a small town of which needed the attention. Madeline was future Harvard bound smarter and prettier than her older brother, had its advantages. She could get away with nearly anything and never pay consciences. For example, there was a meeting of the football team and the basketball team for a party on the hill in which she was naturally invited to. When it was busted and she was found with pot, cocaine and alcohol, she was given a strict warning and brought home. The rest of the busted group (besides the football team of course) was put in jail until parents were notified and came to bail them out.

Back to the day of normalcy except for the rather awkward and frustrating incident at the Brooke’s home, something was off when Bryant and Madeline entered their home. It looked as if someone had tossed a bomb in the living room and master bedroom. Justine was surely still at work still so Madeline called the cops. Upon inspection by police and the family they found nothing missing but also found their mother was not at work, not at the bar nor was she answering her call phone.

“Bryant what do you think happened to her?” Madeline turned to her older brother in worry and confusion.

“Probably nothing. I mean its mom, Madeline. She is most likely hopped town into Glendale for better club scenes… guess she doesn’t like leopard’s panties on guys after all,” Bryant calculated logically.

 This made the most sense and they got to work on putting everything back in order and neat for their mother’s arrival. Six O’ Clock passed and so did seven. Next went eight and afterwards nine. There were no calls or appearance of Justine. Madeline was getting antsy and Bryant angry. I mean to him this was just a complete blow off and also the most irresponsible thing their mom had done in the past year or so since the divorce. A no call, no show in his books meant he was off the hook for that morning and that settled down his anger. Madeline fell asleep on the living room sofa and Bryant was getting sleepy watching a repeat of “Friends” that had been aired nearly a thousand times to his count. The clock rolled and the hours melted away in slumber. Ten went right past Eleven and didn’t stop until nearly two I the morning.

There was a whip like crack that sounded in the laundry room. It woke Bryant and he immediately reverted back to a child when they think they hear things in another room and no one else is home. He tried to wake his sister but she wouldn’t wake. He knew that either he was dreaming or someone had just broken in on the other side of the house. He pinched himself. It hurt. He shook his head clear and looked around for a weapon but only found the living room furnishings. He could hear the footsteps and ducked behind the T.V stand the steps stopped and a shadow fell over the dimly lit carpet floor. It continued on up the stairs. Bryant shot out toward his sister and shook her violently. She still wouldn’t gain consciousness and the shaking jarred a pills bottle from under her. The label read:


Oxycodine 800mg


No pills were left in the bottle.

Footsteps thundered over head and Bryant gathered his sisters limp body in his arms. For the first time in his life he actually cared that his sister kept to a strict diet and exercise routine. Heading toward the back door with nearly a hundred pounds of extra weight though was slow and fearful. He passed where the window had been knocked out by force and took off as fast as his mind could will his legs to go. But that wasn’t fast enough. The steps to the upstairs were now busy with a flurry of activity and as Bryant made his way to the backdoor someone tackled him from behind. The wrestling and tussling went on for several minutes. There were red and blue beams bouncing through the windows as Bryant felt a stabbing searing white hot pain grip his chest. He looked down to see an army knife producing from where he knew his heart resided. He staggered back and in front of his still limp sister’s body. Falling on his rear and vision blurring, he saw a smile from the last figure he would ever likely see his life. Then as police erupted into the house a pair of leopard skin underwear fell at his feet and everything faded into a misty white.

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