Jack stiffened as he shook the hand of the stern man standing across from him. “Umm...yeah, we’ll uh get back to you,” says the brick wall hesitantly. A string breaks.
Feeling numb and overwhelmed, Jack walks out of the corporations daunting doors. When he finally looks away from the gray concrete, He is two blocks away and getting paler. Realizations cut like knives. They saw away at all he has left. No job. No money. No hope.
All he can do is keep walking. Few more blocks. The homeless family on sixth. A mother and her two girls. His future. Jane and Tyler on the street. No food. No home. His fault. Another string breaks.
Almost out of town. The railroad. A liquor store, every hopeless man’s refuge. Scotch.
Leaning on a fence post beside the tracks, he sleeps in somber drunkenness.
Only to be startled awake by the phone buzzing. He answers. On the other end there is a secretary she says something, but Jack only catches a few of the words. Kid. Left building. Hour later. Tyler. 7 year old. Gone. String snaps. More Scotch. More sleep. Wake startled. Tyler. “You know it’s no good to be a loser, and a child abandoner.” Not Tyler. Too precise. Too harsh. “Who are you?” More awareness. Definitely Tyler. Blinks. Eyes are black. “Don’t you know?” Adrenaline. “What have you done to my son?” “Nothing, I saved him.” Confusion. “What do you mean?” “Your son is dead. Murdered.” Jacket pulled back. Tyler. Blood. Lots. A stab wound. “What are you?” Strings all broken. Hot tears. The train sounds. “Your worst nightmare.” Shirt is grabbed. Pushed with the power of a semi. Ground shakes. Tossed onto steel. Cold. Tracks. Then Nothing.
YOU ARE READING
Jack
HorrorThis is well something. A story about the worst day of Jack's life. Most of the story is written as Jack's thoughts. *shrug*. I was a young, unmotivated child when I wrote this.
