Love and Murder

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Eh.. It jsut came to me.

Submitted: March 23, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 23, 2008



I grimace as I hear more shouting in the house next to mine.. It happens every night... I stand up and walk to the window, and sigh as I see what's happening, more clear than I should, straight through their window.

The man that lives next door, Kenny, is a horrible drunk, and.. well.. Let me explain to you what I see now.. I see the man punching his son, directly in the jaw, knocking the poor boy down.. That man is kicking the boy, yelling at him, "Get the fuck up, you little shit! Be a man!"

I can't stand this.. It happens every day.. I feel horrible for the boy.. I wish I could help.. The boy can't be thirteen years old, and he goes through worse torment than I did as a kid! And I lived in New York as a child..

I shake my head and close the curtains, wanting to drown out the sound. It's bullshit! How can he hit his kid like that?! I've read about things like this.. But it shouldn't happen to anyone! Especially that boy that I can see straight through my fucking window..

I step outside, and look over, to see the boy sitting in the grass. He smiles weakly at me, the blood on his face and in his teeth.. God That's horrible! I tell him to come over to me, so I can get him some help, and he quickly shakes his head, and runs in to his house.. with that man Kenny.. My god.. What could make a boy do that.. Go right back in to his tormentor..

Maybe it's because it's his dad.. I'll never understand it. But I swear, I'll end it.. I've called the police before, and they found nothing.. but I watch it from my window.. I've even been brought to tears from watching that man kick and punch his kid.. I've seen blood literally shoot from his mouth his father hits him so hard!

I want to help him so badly.. It's just plain wrong.. I'll help him somehow.. Wait.. Where's he going..? He's just running.. He watch, and see Kenny step out the door and yell, "You better get the fuck back here!".. Oh god I can't take it.. I'm ending this.. I'm ending him..

I wake up in my bed the next morning to the sound of knocking. I walk down the stairs and smile softly when I see the bruised boy open the door. He asks me if he could stay with me for a while. I nod and let him in, and tell him to go take a shower. After I take him to the bathroom with some clothes and a towel, and leave the room..

I instantly run upstairs and grab my grandfather's shotgun, A double barrel Remington, old, but it'll work. I turn up some music, so the boy won't hear what's going on next door. I load the shotgun with two shells, one in each barrel, before walking out the door, and to the house next to mine.

I knock, the shotgun behind my back. As soon as the tired old man answers, I kick him in the stomach, knocking the air out of him and knocking him flat on his worthless ass! With a yell, he tries to get back up, but I hit him hard over the head with the butt of the shotgun.

I smirk darkly as I aim the loaded gun at Kenny's head, and utter to him, "This is for the boy who you ruthlessly beat every night, you bastard.." before pulling the trigger, shooting him in the chest with a loud bang. A sprinkle of blood splashes up from the now gaping hole in the man's chest.

I grit my teeth as I see him gasping for air. I'd rather him suffer, but I don't want to take a chance of him getting to a phone or a cellphone.. Fuck that! I'm going to kill him!

Aiming the gun once more, this time at his head, and without hesitation, pull the trigger. I see fragments of his skull and brain hit the wall from the second shot.. I've killed the horrible man..

I look at the gun, and sigh, I can't keep it at my home, they'll know it was me.. and I can't leave it hear.. they could find my finger prints.. Bah, what does it matter, the old man never leaves, unless he goes to a bar.. I should be safe..

I walk out of the house and rush to my own, running in to find the boy still in the shower. I smile a bit and run up the stairs, and change my bloodied clothes.

I hide the Remington under the loose floorboards in my room.. Whew.. I should be safe now. I walk downstairs to find the boy sitting on the couch, fully dressed and half asleep on the couch. He turned off the music.. I'll take care of the poor boy.. He's a nice kid.. and he got what no child deserved...

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