Random Short Stories

\/Déjà Vu/\

*purely fictional*
*seriously, this isn't based off anything that has happened to me or my friends*
*jimmy whetzel*

(I have been debating whether or not to publish this, as it contains...disturbing? topics. This could be a trigger for some. Be warned.)

My legs ached as I sprinted from the house. The moon shone on the road before me, begging me to chase after it. The colors of the trees were a vivid green and the night sky was bright. My senses seemed heightened in the rush. I was fast, but the car was faster. It caught up to me, and my rush of adrenaline faded. The colors darkened.
"Are you finished, young man?"

As I watched my so-called father smash another glass bottle down on the kitchen table, sudden anger took grasp of me. I glared at him with hatred. His gaze settled on me slowly. His eyes were wild and unfocused, and he shot daggers at me with his eyes.
"C'mere Jimmy..." He slurred. I froze in my seat, watching him stare. As I stared, his face began to turn red with anger.
"Jimmy, I told you to c'mere. You don't wanna cross me like your brother." He belched. "You know what happened to him..." I winced as an image of my brother in his wheelchair flashed in my mind. My anger flared.
"You're disgusting." I said between gritted teeth. His eyes widened.
"What, boy? I don't believe I heard you right." The look in his eyes intensified.
I stared at him defiantly. "I said, you're disgusting."
His jaw dropped and he stood from the wooden chair. He towered over me. "Young man, you will regret you said that." He advanced towards me, wobbling on his feet. I stood quickly from my stool and began to retreat to my room. As I began to step back, Father grabbed a shard of glass from the tile. I realized his intent too late. He lunged at me, and searing pain raced up from my forearm. A trickle of dark red blood ran down my hand. I averted my eyes and quickly sprinted up to my room. I locked the door tightly, listening to hear his footsteps. They luckily didn't come. I sighed and began to nurse my wound. It was nearly an inch long and was producing a lot of blood. I began to feel slightly lightheaded as I watched the blood pulse out, but I had to stay focused to hear him. I wrapped a makeshift bandage around my wrist, hot pain still clouding my head. I had to run away. Soon. Tonight. Keeping the bandage tight on my wound, I examined my many still-healing scars. A lot of them were still scabs and hurt from day to day. I began to make a plan to run away.

I didn't dare to leave my room for the many hours that passed. He would be waiting for me, ready to slit my throat. He already crippled my brother and put my mother in a coma. Killing his son would just be another check on the list. I checked my small stash of food I had been building up, and ate a little bit for my dinner. I retrieved my most durable tennis shoes and laced them up. After stuffing everything useful I owned into a large black backpack, I heard a few heavy footsteps in the hallway.
"Jimmy, come out here..." My father commanded. His very voice filled me with red hot anger. I packed quicker and waited to hear the heavy breathing outside my door to leave. When I believed it was safe, I quietly unlocked the door. My backpack weighed me down and my clothing was uncomfortable and rough. I treaded quickly down the stairs, trying my hardest not to make the stairs creak. When I reached the front door and slowly opened it a crack, I heard a belch from behind me.
"Young man, what do you think you're doing?" My father asked. I stared him in the eyes.
"Getting away from you." I said, putting one foot outside the door. The cool night air bit at the skin between the hem of my jeans and my socks. My father laughed.
"Oh, boy, you truly are an idiot, you know that? You can't run from me!"
"Oh, really?" I said, turning around and sprinting out the wooden door.

The air rushed through my hair and whipped my face. Adrenaline filled my bloodstream and I picked up speed. I didn't care that my father was screaming and chasing me. He couldn't catch up to me. As I ran, I noticed that the trees seemed a brighter green and the smell of rain became clear to me. The moon was bright and full in front of me and the stars danced and glimmered in the sky. Houses and the occasional car rushed passed me and their colors blurred. I picked up speed until I couldn't hear my father's voice anymore. I was free. I closed my eyes and laughed for the first time in years. It was a sound I welcomed; it was something I faked for so long, I had forgotten what the real thing sounded like.

My joy distracted me, and I didn't hear a car rushing up behind me. Suddenly everything slowed. I went numb. I crashed to the ground as my vision flickered. The car drove up beside me. The window of the car slowly rolled down, and a tall shadow figure leaned out. Dark fog swirled out from him and gathered around me. I blinked rapidly as the fogged slowed my thoughts. I felt slightly relieved, yet dark thoughts were filling my head. As my confusion progressed and my vision faded, the shadow figure smiled an eerie smile.
"Are you finished, young man?" It said in a deep, wicked voice. The voice filled me with dread, yet my vision faded faster. And then all went dark.

My legs ached as I sprinted from the house. The moon shone on the road before me, begging me to chase after it. The colors of the trees were a vivid green and the night sky was bright. My senses seemed heightened in the rush. I was fast, but the car was faster. It caught up to me, and my rush of adrenaline faded. The colors darkened.
"Are you finished, young man?"