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View Full Version : A Man's Greed [Short Story]



iBEO
04-07-2011, 03:41 PM
-- This was for a project for a short story that I had to do about a theme and I chose 'Greed'. I would love your feedbacks! : ) * I didn't know how to title it so I just did whatever. Sorry about the spaces and paragraphs, I'm not too good with this so I just copied and pasted.


Outside the wind blew continuously at the small house

as if crying to get in. The windowpane cringed against the fury of the

wind, trying to hold against it. Inside the small dark house was the

empty fireplace. Small sparks inside the fireplace was the only light

that shown in the dark empty space. The eerie silence was cut off by

the hum of the refrigerator and the tick-tock of the clock. Inside the

bedroom clothes were seen piled up against each other. Slowly time

ticked by seconds by seconds, minute by minute. Before the sun came up

the water faucet came on. A girl, tall skinny brunette with long thin

hair began washing her face. Picking up a cotton pad that she had

already wet with make-up remover, she slowly removed the leftover

make-up from the night before. Small purple marks surfaced her skin.

Her arms, back, and neck was covered with bruises from the night

before. Lifting up her t-shirt she removed the band-aid from her hip

that she had wounded. Dry blood remained and she cleaned it clean. A

stir was heard from the bedroom and she quickly covered her wounded

hip. Turning around she smiled to herself and she walked into the

bedroom and leaning down she kissed him on the cheek.

“Wake up…” she whispered, “Darling... its morning”. He

slowly opened his eyes and look at her. His hands lifted up, brushed

against her face and he smiled.

“Do you love me?” he asks.

“Yes. Of course, I will always love you,” she replied softly.

“I’m sorry”

“For what Darling?” she asks as she tilted her head to

the side. He leaned up, brushed her hair back and caressed her cheek

where the most visible bruise was seen. “For this” he said as he

kissed it softly. She cringed back lightly and he stopped abruptly as

if sensing her hesitation.

“Why?” he said as he stood up out of bed, “You lied to

me!” he cried suddenly. She cringed even more trying to hide herself.

He stomped out of the bedroom angry and frustrated and she ran after

him like a lost puppy. Turning around he slammed her into the wall and

she fell like a limp doll.

“Who was that man? Who else do you love other than

me?!” he cried at her as his fingers clenched her hair. She looked at

him with pleading eyes and she lifted her hands to caress his cheek,

hoping to calm him down.

“There is no one other than you. You’re the only man

in my life that I love,” she said with a soft whisper.

“Lies!” he screamed and within seconds his fist was

raised. His hands moved down as fast as a snake and she fell over on

her side and lay there motionless. The only movement that was seen was

the heavy breathing and the deep intakes she would take to make up for

not getting enough air. He stood there motionless before her, a frown

on his face.

“You made me do this. I love you so much, but why must

you make me do this to you,” he said as he walked to the bathroom

door, rubbing his chest as though trying to ease it’s pain and slammed

the door shut. The small fragile brunette girl stood up unsteadily and

leaned on the wall. She smiled to herself and only stared at the

bathroom door.

The beatings kept going for over two weeks. The man wanted more from

her than she could give him. His greed overcame his sense of logic and

all he could do was harm her to keep her from running away from him.

After those two weeks of violence he woke up to a sense of

abandonment. Looking around he did not sense her anywhere and his

anger flared up. At this moment his cell phone rang and as he looked

down, it was his doctor. Not wanting to pick up because of his anger

but also wanting to in case it was important, he picked up his call.

“Is this Mr. Hilmes?”

“This is he.”

“We have found a donor who was willing to have a kidney transplant.

If you would like, we would like to start the surgery as soon as

possible. Possibly even now.” Hilmes looks up from this call, excited

about the news. Although he would have to deal with his current

situation later, this was more important. He grabbed his car keys shut

the door and drove away to the hospital.

After a couple of weeks staying in the hospital he came home to an

empty house. Everything looked the same as he had left it. Hilmes was

disappointed, during his time at the hospital he did not get a single

visit by her, not even a single call. His anger began to build up and

he slammed the door shut. Walking into the living room he decided to

call her sister.

“Hello?” an answer was heard on the other line.

“It’s Hilmes. I was wondering if Melinda cane home by chance?” There

was a long silence on the phone until he heard her take a long breath.

“She didn’t tell you? I guess not by the sound of your voice. A

couple of weeks ago before your surgery, she talked with one of the

guys from the hospital that was supposed to do your surgery if you

ever got one. He told her that there wasn’t a good chance that you

would survive unless you got a kidney transplant. After thinking for

awhile she made a decision to give hers to you.” Hilmes heart raced

and he paced around his house trying to calm him-self down.

“Where is she now? Tell me.” He asked panic rising in his voice.

“She’s dead Hilmes.”

“She can’t be! I only have one of her kidneys, she should still be alive.”

“When she was younger she had given her other kidney to her mother.

She only had one until she gave her last one to you.” Hilmes hung up

the phone slammed it towards the wall. He did not want to believe what

he had just heard. His hands covered his ears as if trying to get rid

of the information he had gotten but it was useless. The empty house

stood silently on its foundation. There was no wind blowing on the

house. There was no tick-tock of the clock, there was no humming of

the refrigerator, only the silent crying of a man whose greed overcame

his logic.

.

Musicfilm89
01-25-2013, 04:40 PM
Hey can I make a short film adaptation

hillwalker
01-25-2013, 08:00 PM
It's brave of you to post this on here but I'm afraid it needs a great deal of work to make it readable.
The opening is confusing and it needs to provide more of a hook if readers are going to find it interesting enough to continue reading.

What do we have? - some wind outside (where else would it be?), a windowpane cringing (which doesn't work), and an empty fireplace with sparks (where did they come from if the fireplace is empty?). We also have a small dark house, small sparks an empty fireplace and a dark empty space - which shows a very limited vocabulary.

There's nothing happening so far - made worse by the fact that you emphasize the tedium of the scene by having time drag slowly tick by tick.
I'm not sure how the water faucet comes on by itself - perhaps it's a magic house.
Unless you can grab the reader's attention right from the start you've blown your chance. The story only really starts when you introduce the girl, but by then I had lost interest.

One major problem is your writing style - it's passive to the point of absurdity:

Inside the small dark house was the empty fireplace.
The eerie silence was cut off by the hum. . .
Inside the bedroom clothes were seen piled up against each other.
A stir was heard from the bedroom. . .

A lot of American Creative Writing tutors condemn passive writing but I've not considered it a major problem until I read this piece. You manage to make it seem unnatural.
It's a bit like rephrasing the chicken joke : Why was the road crossed by the chicken?
No one writes like this.

An empty fireplace stood inside the small dark house. . . The hum cut off the eerie silence. . . A pile of clothes lay inside the bedroom. . . A stir (sound?) came from the bedroom. . . would make more sense.

The rest of it is slightly better - which makes me wonder why you bothered with such a weak intro. But even then the dialogue is pedestrian and the portrayal of domestic abuse is simplistic and formulaic. Your characters are wafer thin.

Then we have an info dump beginning with the paragraph The beatings kept going for over two weeks. . .

You're no longer telling a story here - you're giving an account of events.

And the abrupt change of scene here: At this moment his cell phone rang . . . was so clumsy that I gave up reading.

I'm afraid your sense of plotting leaves a lot to be desired. My advice, read lots of short stories to see how other writers develop characters and plot.

H

DATo
08-17-2014, 02:56 AM
I liked the story but there is no way a hospital would have taken her one remaining kidney unless she was already dead. There is nothing in the story to suggest that she somehow made arrangements to donate the kidney before her death. Suicide maybe?