Mystery Characters

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Who the characters really are is all up to you... (This is just a short character sketch I did in my English class)

Submitted: September 16, 2009

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Submitted: September 16, 2009

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He slumpt onto the wrinkled leather couch letting the aged whiskey slosh over the sides with the sound of ice ringing against the crystal. A grumble escaped his lips as he loosened his tie with one rage filled pull. He could hear the clacks of her heels as she descended the stairs with strained wheels being jerked behind her. He sighed knowing what was coming. The clacking stopped then… the door shot open, slamming against its wall causing the half empty bottles to clank against each other reminding him of how he always saw his life, half empty. She stood in front of him wearing the black suede coat he had gotten her for her birthday last year.
“I’m leaving,” she said in forced calmness. He grunted in response. She always said this and he knew she never meant it and would come crawling back in a week or so. “You don’t think I’m serious do you?”He shook his head with a shadow of a smirk creeping across his face. “Well I am this time!” she screamed losing her once calm and peaceful composure before she met him. “I’ve had it with you and all your secrets, lies and betrayals! You don’t deserve someone like me! You don’t deserve anyone!”
He slowly took a sip of his drink pondering about tomorrow and the days before his big meeting. She knew he wasn’t listening by the dreamy look in his eyes. She was angry, hurt and disappointed so she did the only thing she could, she knocked his glass right of his hand and onto his crisp white shirt. “You…you, you jerk! You don’t even listen to me now when I’m telling you I’m leaving you, for good!” she huffed while he stared up at her, rage in his eyes. How dare she waste his drink, the one he spent his hard earned money on? He stood up towering over the fragile looking woman with tear stained cheeks in front of him. She stared him straight in the eye hoping he wouldn’t do what she was thinking he would.
Then just before she was about to apologise he lent down and whispered into her ear, “You’ll be back,” a smirk clear in his velvet yet malicious voice. Another tear ran down her cheek. She stepped back, looked him in the eye and slapped him as hard as she could. She walked with her dignity still intake out of the study, collected her bags and walked right out of his house and his life. He watched the door for a few minutes before walking up to the liquor cabinet and refilling his glass. With one swift movement he pulled out his sleek black phone just like his heart and dialed an all-too-familiar phone number. “Doreen, are you busy tonight?”


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