This piece is something completely different for me. I hope it doesn't scare anyone off!
This week's prompts were:
“Damn, it’s cold.” or “Whoever said winter was wonderful was off their fucking rocker.”
Alternative prompts were:
moonstone, goggles, retort
or
"If you don't like it, change it"
or
write a story that features a new schoolteacher or schoolmarm or professor - just someone involved in education
Be sure and check out the links to my fellow flasher's stories at the end of mine... Enjoy!
-Mathilde
The Coldest Night
By Mathilde Watson
A loud, shrill ringing startled Jamie from his sleep and he tumbled off the side of the sofa and onto the floor, hitting his head on the edge of the coffee table. The impact sent several empty beer cans scattering across the floor and dumped an overflowing ash tray onto the carpet. Jamie shook his head, trying to ignore the mess from his father’s disgusting habits. The doorbell rang again and Jamie struggled to his feet, peering out the window at the thick curtain of snow blocking his view of the outside world. Confused and a bit disoriented, he glanced at the clock over the mantle. Four a.m. on New Year’s Day. Who the hell would be visiting at this hour?
“Damn, it’s cold!” He muttered, wrapping his blanket firmly around his shoulders and shuffling toward the front of the house. Jamie weaved his way to the front door, stepping over empty beer cans and bottles and circling around various bulky, mismatched pieces of furniture. The old man never threw anything away, and worn out chairs and broken tables littered the entire house. The only thing they seemed to have a shortage on was beds, which left Jamie sleeping on a sleeper sofa that didn’t open.
Ever since the factory laid him off two years ago, Jamie’s father spent his days lounging around the house, smoking and drinking and criticizing his wife and son. Jamie couldn’t understand why his mother put up with it. The only money coming into the house was from Jamie’s part time job bagging groceries and the odd jobs his mom picked up around the neighborhood, hemming dresses and baking fancy cakes. They could do far better on their own without having to support the lazy man and his destructive, expensive habits. Perhaps then he could afford to go to art school and maybe make something of himself.
Jamie finally arrived at the front door, stubbing his toe on a loose floor board and biting back a curse. One more thing to add to the list of things he needed to fix. It got longer every day, two new problems popping up for every one fixed. Another year and the house would probably fall down around them. He hoped so anyway. If the damn thing were insured he’d be tempted to burn it down and start fresh.
The bell rang again and Jamie reached for the door, unlocking the deadbolt and releasing the chain before turning the lock on the knob and pulling the door open. He had no idea why they had so many locks on the door; there was nothing in the house worth stealing, and the door was so flimsy that one good kick would bring it down, locked or no. The door swung in to reveal his father, flanked by two uniformed police officers. Confused, Jamie stood in the entryway staring at the three men.
One of the officer’s gave Jamie a quick once over, and then consulted his notebook. “Mister James Wilson, Junior?” He asked, still eying Jamie critically. Jamie nodded his head and whispered, “Jamie.”
“Can we come in, Jamie?” The officer slapped Jamie’s father on the back and he stumbled forward, bending over and retching all over the welcome mat. Jamie jumped back and allowed the heavyset man to fall onto the floor. The officers stepped over the mess and pulled the obviously inebriated man to his feet, balancing him between them. “Is there somewhere we can all sit down?” the second officer asked. Jamie nodded again and turned to lead the way into the living room.
Soon they were all settled onto chairs in the living room, and Jamie’s eyes darted from face to face, trying to determine what was happening. Six hours ago his parents had left for a New Year’s Eve party downtown, and Jamie had tried to wait up for them, but he’d fallen asleep. Now… Jamie turned to face his father who’d slumped over in his easy chair, nearly asleep. “Where’s Mom?”
The question came out as little more than a whisper, and his father didn’t respond. Instead, the two officers looked at each other briefly, and then nodded, the first turning back to face Jamie. “Mister Wilson, I’m sorry to have to tell you this…”
“Jamie. My name is Jamie. HE is Mister Wilson.” Jamie cut the officer off, afraid to hear the rest of what the man had to say. Instead he looked back at his father, noticing for the first time several cuts and bruises on his face. He also had tears streaming down his face. Jamie had never seen the man cry before, and it filled him with cold dread. The office cleared his throat and continued.
“I’m sorry, Jamie, but your mother is dead. Another driver ran a red light, going seventy miles an hour and slammed into the driver’s side door on your parent’s car. She was killed instantly.” Jamie slumped back against the arm of the sofa, still staring at his father’s distraught face. This couldn’t be happening. The old man wiped away his tears and met Jamie’s stare.
“The damned, drunken bastard walked away, Jamie. He murdered Amy and then he climbed out of his fancy car without a scratch on him! Not a damn scratch!” His father’s shrill wail made his head hurt and he closed his eyes, biting back the vicious comebacks he wanted to throw at the man. HE had walked away, too! His mother never drank, and hadn’t wanted to go to the stupid party in the first place. She’d been bullied into going by the shiftless drunk sitting across from him, and in Jamie’s mind he was as much to blame as the other driver. The two officers stood and drew his attention away from his sniveling father.
“We’re really sorry for your loss.” Again, Jamie nodded and they turned to show themselves out of the house. Jamie didn’t follow them, he didn’t move. He simply sat still on the sofa, watching his worthless father cry loud, useless tears while his own slid silently down his cheeks.
THE END ... FOR NOW!
Below are the links to my fellow flashers! Be sure and check them out!!
Lily Sawyer
Victoria Blisse
Julie Lynn Hayes
That was really good, but sad. Look forward to your next installment!
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