Scary ghost stories and stuff (1)

Standoff

In..Out...In...Out..  Jim needed to concentrate on his breathing, or he would stop.  He had never done this before.  He'd been on trial.  He'd been convicted.  He'd been to prison.  But all that was someone else s doing, not his.  All his life he let the forces around him push him around and take charge.  Today was different.  Today, Jim was going to take charge.  Jim was going to confront the man.  The man who lied.  The man who took credit for turning Jim in.  The man who did the crime Jim was accused of.  The man who stole the last twenty-three years of Jim’s life.

In...Out...In....Out..  Jim crept alongside the light blue colonial trying to keep out of sight, both from the inside and the outside.  He altered the hold on his gun from firm to loose and back again.  Firm when he felt he was losing hold of it.  Loose when he felt his arm and hand muscles tighten out of control.  He stood motionless in the dark, waiting for Marshal to be alone.  Then sounds grew from inside the house, from imperceptible to soft and low.  Footsteps and voices leaked from the wooden structure.  The voices of two females mingled among the footsteps, low and unintelligible.  Slowly the voices grew in volume.  The sounds of sliding and clanking entered into the mix.  And then the door opened and they emerged.

“I'm telling ya, Kathy's not going to have it done.”

“Mom, she said she would.”

“That girl has never been reliable.  We're just wasting our time going over there this early.”

The two women walked from the doorway, across the porch, and down the steps.

“Honestly, I can't see why you picked her for a partner.”

“She's my best friend.  We've always made.....”

“And you've always been late and received bad marks.”

The conversation faded as the two women climbed into a red automobile parked  in the driveway.  The car's engine started.  The car backed out into the street and then sped off.  The sound from the car's engine faded away into the night.  Jim knew Marshal had a daughter.  He did not know of any other children.  He figured Marshal was alone now.  In...Out....In....Out....  And with a big breath in, Jim ran up the steps and kicked the door open.

“Dad...Dad....DAD,” screamed a young boy standing in a doorway on the other side of the room.  He had a glass of water in his hand and was proceeding from the kitchen into the living where the steps to the second floor of the house were located.  The glass fell from the boy's hand and broke when it hit the floor.

“What the...” yelled Marshal as he hustled in from an adjacent room.  As his legs and feet halted in shock and as his arms and hands flew up to his face and the over his head he yelled,  “Shit....Jim.”

“QUIET!” screamed Jim at the man and boy.  Jim kicked the door back to a somewhat closed position.  He held his gun aiming squarely at Marshal's head.  “I didn't know about the boy!” yelled Jim.

The three individuals stood frozen.  Except for the urine running down the leg of the boy, there was no movement in the house for several minutes.  “When did you get out, Jim?” Marshal asked as he broke the silence.

Jim took three extra deep breaths and exhaled equally as deep three times.  His face held a wide eyed expression of shock and bewilderment.  “I came for you, Marshal,” Jim said with the stutter of not knowing what to do next.  “You stole my life.  You lied.  You...you...a man died because of you...and I got the blame.”

“Jim,” Marshal said with apprehension, “you have it wrong.  I had noth...”

“I got nothing wrong!” Jim screamed.  “You set me up and Steve died.  That's all on you!”