Short Story Contest I

[Angie]

Write a short story summarizing this boy's life and the climax it just came to that made him have this look on his face:

www.bigstockphoto.com/photo/view/384782?

Genre: any
Length: approximately 300 words (word counter)
End date: TBA
Judge: none

Please only post here with your entries so as not to clutter the thread. If you have questions, PM me or the judge.

[scarecrow]

Chase Away The Monsters

“Don’t be scared, Davey. There’s no monster in there, see?”

A particularly booming peal of thunder came rolling by, and Davey swallowed hard as stared fearfully at the menacing closet door. He held Wilfred tighter as yet another bolt of lightning flashed in the distance.

“Are you sure, Daddy?”

“I’m sure, Davey. See for yourself.”

His dad had never been afraid of the monster in the closet, and it somehow never seemed to be there when his dad went to check it. Maybe it was scared of his dad.

“It’s gone.”

“There never was a monster, Davey. There are no such things as monsters.”

“Yes, there is. It’s just gone.”

Davey’s dad had never complained like his mom when he woke her up at night. He’d always get up and check the closet out for Davey and Wilfred. Davey’s mom usually just grumbled something about him being silly, and would turn over and go right back to sleep.

“There was no monster, Davey. You’re just imagining things.”

“Yes, there was.”

Davey reached for the doorknob, and just held it there for a second. The monster might have only gone because it was scared of his dad. What if it wasn’t scared of him? There was no father in the next room to run to if it leapt out at him now.

“You know, someday, you’re gonna have to chase those monsters away on your own.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Well, I do. I’m sure you can.”

Davey had never really understood what his dad had meant until now. He held Wilfred as tightly as he could, and took a deep breath. Then he yanked the door open.

Nothing.

Davey exhaled, and hugged Wilfred with both his arms. His dad had been right, after all.

[durriedog]

“The rain mercilessly pelted the roof like a pack of hounds racing from one end to the other. I watched all this through the eyes of a six year old. How sharp the senses of the young are, when put to good use.


Of course, I’m not really six years old. More like a thousand times that. But the bodies of children suit me; they are so easy to take, so easy to imprison.


My child lips pouted as I watched the storm. I hate water. Hate it. Other than light, it is a demon’s worst enemy. It could caress you for years but only after it is too late do you realise it is slowly weakening you – slowly tormenting what is left of your soul after the Dealing with the devil. A door slammed behind me; I could not stop my inexperienced body from turning in alarm. Stupid body. I need more time in it to work out the supernatural stiffness that always overtook my spirit after taking a body, the wisp of soul left over from the original occupant that continuously annoyed you, like a thorn in your side.


In through the door walked my ‘baby sitter’, a stack of G-rated movies under her arm and a genuine smile on her face. She was dripping wet – the fool.
“Hey, Joey,” She said in an overly high-pitched voice. “How’re you going today?”
“Quite well, thank you.” I replied coldly. I seemed to startle her with my mature sentence. What you see standing in front of you is not necessarily what is standing in front of you. Looking past your nose is not all there is to look past.
“Well, that’s good.” She said. She dropped her eyes for a moment, to the stack of DVDs. A clump of wet rat-tail hair dripped water into the plastic covering of the top movie.
“So what’re we gonna watch tonight?” She asked politely.
Tonight? It was barely dusk! I stared coldly at her as she tried to smile weakly. Her brave mask faltered for a second – but then it was back up, irritating me.
“Your mum ordered pizza.”
I pulled my teddy off the couch beside me.
“Fantastic.”
My baby sitter looked up to meet my eyes. She swallowed and looked down.
“Joey, wha - what’s on?” she stammered. Her smile was gone.
“Oh, nothing.” My voice gave nothing away. I clutched my teddy closer; my fingers were fixed in a stony grip around its neck.
My baby sitter looked around nervously. I stared at her frostily.
“I’ll get you a drink of water.” She said, and darted out of the room before I could yell at her not to. I gripped my teddy tighter in anger and fear.


When she came back into the room with the plastic cup of water in hand, my heart froze up, speaking metaphorically. Demons have no hearts.


Soon, I could not control my demon instincts.

“WATER!” I screamed as she approached me. “Get, get, get AWAY!” my body crawled as it rejected my hyperactive spirit. My baby sitter, shocked, tripped and wheeled over the couch clumsily. I screamed as the water from the cup hit me, hissing against my flesh.
I screamed one more time …


… Paige was in shock. She sat on the floor, staring at the body of the six year old in front of her. It seemed to be part horse, crab and child – that was what made it so horrific. It was the child she knew, but hideously disfigured. She cried as the parents walked in and screamed – she looked at the far wall as the ambulance and police walked in and out of the room. She remembered the face of the boy she had known, the coldness in his eyes that night. And so this story ends.”


“That’s a horrible story.” Pouted my grandchild Geoff.
“But it’s true.” I insisted. I looked out the window as he clutched his teddy closer. The rain persisted. When I looked back at him, he had his stubborn face on and was holding his little stuffed toy in a way that reminded me of the little boy I had once cared for.

A tear dripped down my cheek and onto the floor.