jordan_phelps
06-08-2011, 03:20 PM
I have just become interested in writing and this is my first short story. Please give me your opinion (positive or negative) and any suggestions for improvement you may have. Thanks
Clap, Clap. The thunder roared as Jane lay silent under a mountain of sheets and blankets. Her husband was supposed to be home from work by ten, it was now eleven thirty. He was probably just out for a drink with the boys but Jane had always been one to assume the worst. He could have at least called to let her know he was going to be running so late but she was used to this behaviour by now. Sometimes it seemed like he didn't care about her at all anymore. Like she was just an extra set of baggage he was forced to carry. She couldn't remember the last time they actually sat down and ate a meal together but she was sure it had been at least a month.
Clap, Clap. The thunder grew louder. Jane could see her reflection in the mirror mounted on her wardrobe. She looked tired. The bags under her eyes indicated that she needed to get some sleep. "It's going to be alright." she told herself. "When I wake up in the morning he will be right here beside me." She closed her eyes and let the steady beat of rain hitting the tin roof lull her to sleep.
*
Jane could hear the birds singing from just outside the window. It was a beautiful summer day and there was a pleasant breeze accompanied by the scent of lilacs drifting into the old farmhouse. Jane loved the smell of lilacs. She set the oven to 350 degrees Farenheit and placed the pan of frozen lasagna on the top rack. It was nothing special but she wasn't in the mood to spend the rest of her alone time on constructing a three course masterpiece. Besides, her husband would be home in twenty minutes and he would expect something on the table.
She headed to the staircase and proceeded up with caution. Creak, Creak, Creak. Every time Jane went up she was worried the whole thing would collapse and send her plummeting to the main floor. She couldn't help but worry, the house had to be at least a hundred years old and in serious need of renovation. The only thing keeping them there was the location. The rolling landscape, teeming wildlife, fresh air, the countryside was beautiful.
Creeeak. The staircase let out a final groan as Jane finally reached the top. She turned the corner and entered her bedroom. 'This is a disaster' she thought to herself as she dodged piles of clothes scattered along the floor. She rolled onto her bed and picked up a book titled 'The Lost'. She had barely had time to find her spot when she heard a loud knocking coming from the lower level of the house. Could someone be at the door? She placed her bookmark carefully back inside the novel and set it to the side.
"So much for twenty minutes of relaxation" she said to herself. She got up and slowly carried herself back down the stairs. Knock, Knock, Knock. The banging was becoming violent. It sounded like whoever was on the other side of the door was going to break it down before she even had a chance to answer it. "Im coming" she shouted. Jane reached the bottom of the staircase and jogged the remaining few steps to the front door. She slowly turned the doorknob and swung the door open to reveal a heavily built man in a plaid jacket and jeans. He was holding his hands behind his back as if to hide something. "I thought you were going to take the door off its hinges, what can I....” Before Jane had time to finish her sentence the mystery man had forced his axe straight through her skull.
Ding!
*
Jane awoke to the sound of the doorbell. 'What a strange dream' she thought to herself. Ding. The doorbell sounded a second time. 'Maybe Tom was finally home'. Jane was not exactly overflowing with love for Tom at the moment but knowing he was at home would provide her with enough comfort to get a good night's sleep. She slouched out of bed and slowly made her way back to the staircase. She couldn't stop the dream from playing over and over again in her head and the more she thought about it the more hesitant she was to answer the door. Regardless of her fear, the thought that Tom could be waiting on the other side stopped her from crawling back in to bed.
Jane arrived at her destination. She carefully brought her hand up to the doorknob and eased open the door. Concealing herself, she peered around the half open door. There was no Tom. No man wearing a plaid jacket. As a matter of fact, there was no one there at all. Nothing but the constant downpour of rain as the lightning lit up the distant sky.
'Well that’s odd', she thought to herself. Jane pushed the door closed and decided to go to the kitchen. The clock was about to strike twelve yet she was now wide awake. Tom had never stayed out this late before. She sensed that something was definitely wrong. Jane located a bottle of red wine and popped the cork off. 'Maybe a drink will take my mind off it, she thought. One was the magic number. The last thing Jane wanted to do was fall back into her old habits. "I hope you know this is your fault." And to that she drank.
Ding! As if to prevent her from doing something she would most likely regret, the doorbell rang again. "Again?" Jane slammed down her glass on the countertop and bolted to the door. She flung it open with a great force. Once again, nobody was there. This time Jane stepped out onto the porch to seek out who was causing all the trouble. She squinted as she peered off into the distance. Jane thought she saw the shadow of a young boy fade into the darkness of the woods. The image was vague but it was enough to pass off as an excuse for these strange occurrences.
Jane returned to the kitchen and clutched her glass of wine. She thought about it for a couple of seconds, turned around, and dumped the remainder of the dark liquid into the sink. It felt good to watch the wine swirl down the drain, empowering.
Jane grabbed the phone and began dialling her husband’s number. After full four rings there was still no answer so she put the phone back in its holder and slumped onto the couch. She reached for the television remote and began flipping through channels. The 12 o'clock shows were not exactly the greatest so she settled for a rerun of jeopardy. She never understood how or why these people could know so much about nothing. After about ten minutes of guessing with no success she admitted defeat and returned to flipping channels. 'Desperate Housewives' appeared on the screen and she set down the remote. She enjoyed this show because she always felt as if she could relate.
Suddenly the house went black and Jane was left by herself sitting in the darkness. The only thing she could hear was the constant pounding of the rain on the roof that refused to go away. At this point sleeping was Jane's only option. She slowly rose from the couch and felt her way to the staircase. Her left hand strongly gripping the rail, she began to make her way up step by step. There was a flash in the corner of Jane's eye. It had come from behind her and it was definitely not lightning.
Induced by a sudden surge of adrenaline Jane dashed up the stairs and into her room where she had a flashlight waiting in her night table drawer. Beside the flashlight laying in the drawer was a revolver. It had never been used but she took comfort in having it available to her. If there was any time that Jane needed some added comfort it was now so she buried the weapon in her front pocket with the barrel facing to the sky. She grabbed the flashlight, flicked the switch to ‘on’ and silently but quickly emerged from the bedroom. With the flashlight close to her chest she began surveying the house. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead as she got closer to where she had seen the light. At this point she was shaking with each baby step she took. Jane took a deep breath and shined the flashlight down the hall. The back door was wide open.
Jane’s heart skipped a beat. She could no longer hide the fear that was now etched all over her face. She was not the only one in the house and she knew it. 'Why couldn't I have locked the doors?' she thought to herself, but of course it was too late. She walked the remaining distance of the hallway and nudged the back door closed with her foot. Jane turned to the only unchecked part of her house left, the basement. Darkness engulfed her as she began her descent. As she came closer to the bottom floor, although it was very soft, Jane thought she could hear music. It got clearer and clearer. By the time she reached the bottom she was sure the sound she was hearing was the relaxing melody of a violin. She guessed whoever was there must have found their old record player.
She could see a faint light at the end of the room. It appeared to be coming from atop a table but it was too dim to make out its surroundings. Jane raised the flashlight to get a better look but as if every event of the night had been planned the beam of light faded and disappeared. At this point all that Jane could see was this single light, like the light at the end of a tunnel. Over the softly playing music she began to hear footsteps. "Who’s there?!" she shouted, but there was no response. The footsteps seemed to be getting louder. Jane didn't know what to do. She came to a complete stop in what seemed to be the middle of the room and closed her eyes. Something was getting close, she could feel it and she was ready for it.
The footsteps came to a halt and a warm sensation came over the back of Jane's neck that made her cringe. Whoever was there had stopped directly behind her and she could now hear their every breath, deep and shaky. Suddenly a strong pair of arms wrapped around Jane's body. She acted fast, throwing the pair of arms out of the way. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the revolver and fired a full round into the darkness. 'Thump.' She had hit her target.
'What have I done?' she thought to herself. The room was too dark to see who had fallen victim to her moment of panic but at this point it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was safe. She decided that she would deal with the situation in the morning, right now what she needed was some sleep. Jane made a 180 degree turn and headed towards the stairs. As she made her way upstairs Jane made sure that both the front and back doors were locked up tight. Finally feeling safe she rolled into her bed. Her mind was racing. Who could be downstairs? Were they dead or just injured?
The room suddenly flooded with a light that made her squint. Jane's eyes were so used to the darkness that the light had a blinding effect on her. She got up, stumbled over to the light switch and flipped it off. As she returned to her bed she peered out the window. She had been too caught up in the action to realize that the storm had ended a while ago. Something else outside the window caught her eye. Tom's car was parked in the driveway. Had he just got home?
Jane called his name as she made her way to the front door. "Tom?" There was no answer. She tried calling his name a few more times but each attempt resulted in a similar silence. She opened the front door and called his name again just in case he was outside. Once again, there was no answer. Jane froze, a sudden chill tickled her spine. "No, it couldn't be" she said to herself. With a sudden urgency Jane dashed down the stairs and into the recently brightened basement. As she reached the bottom she gasped in horror. Jane dropped to her knees and tears flooded her face. What she saw in that basement sickened her.
The soft romantic music continued to play as the record whirled around in a continuous loop. The light she had seen earlier atop of the table was a single candle with a flame that danced like grass in the wind. On either side of the tabletop was a china plate containing Indian cuisine, Jane's favourite food. The basement was set up for a romantic night, as if to say I’m sorry the last few years haven't been the greatest but I want you to know that I love you. Tom was about ready to go upstairs and whisk Jane out of bed but he had never got the chance. Instead he lay motionless on the floor with six bullets through his chest. Not far from Tom's cold, still hand rested a beautiful bouquet of lilacs.
Clap, Clap. The thunder roared as Jane lay silent under a mountain of sheets and blankets. Her husband was supposed to be home from work by ten, it was now eleven thirty. He was probably just out for a drink with the boys but Jane had always been one to assume the worst. He could have at least called to let her know he was going to be running so late but she was used to this behaviour by now. Sometimes it seemed like he didn't care about her at all anymore. Like she was just an extra set of baggage he was forced to carry. She couldn't remember the last time they actually sat down and ate a meal together but she was sure it had been at least a month.
Clap, Clap. The thunder grew louder. Jane could see her reflection in the mirror mounted on her wardrobe. She looked tired. The bags under her eyes indicated that she needed to get some sleep. "It's going to be alright." she told herself. "When I wake up in the morning he will be right here beside me." She closed her eyes and let the steady beat of rain hitting the tin roof lull her to sleep.
*
Jane could hear the birds singing from just outside the window. It was a beautiful summer day and there was a pleasant breeze accompanied by the scent of lilacs drifting into the old farmhouse. Jane loved the smell of lilacs. She set the oven to 350 degrees Farenheit and placed the pan of frozen lasagna on the top rack. It was nothing special but she wasn't in the mood to spend the rest of her alone time on constructing a three course masterpiece. Besides, her husband would be home in twenty minutes and he would expect something on the table.
She headed to the staircase and proceeded up with caution. Creak, Creak, Creak. Every time Jane went up she was worried the whole thing would collapse and send her plummeting to the main floor. She couldn't help but worry, the house had to be at least a hundred years old and in serious need of renovation. The only thing keeping them there was the location. The rolling landscape, teeming wildlife, fresh air, the countryside was beautiful.
Creeeak. The staircase let out a final groan as Jane finally reached the top. She turned the corner and entered her bedroom. 'This is a disaster' she thought to herself as she dodged piles of clothes scattered along the floor. She rolled onto her bed and picked up a book titled 'The Lost'. She had barely had time to find her spot when she heard a loud knocking coming from the lower level of the house. Could someone be at the door? She placed her bookmark carefully back inside the novel and set it to the side.
"So much for twenty minutes of relaxation" she said to herself. She got up and slowly carried herself back down the stairs. Knock, Knock, Knock. The banging was becoming violent. It sounded like whoever was on the other side of the door was going to break it down before she even had a chance to answer it. "Im coming" she shouted. Jane reached the bottom of the staircase and jogged the remaining few steps to the front door. She slowly turned the doorknob and swung the door open to reveal a heavily built man in a plaid jacket and jeans. He was holding his hands behind his back as if to hide something. "I thought you were going to take the door off its hinges, what can I....” Before Jane had time to finish her sentence the mystery man had forced his axe straight through her skull.
Ding!
*
Jane awoke to the sound of the doorbell. 'What a strange dream' she thought to herself. Ding. The doorbell sounded a second time. 'Maybe Tom was finally home'. Jane was not exactly overflowing with love for Tom at the moment but knowing he was at home would provide her with enough comfort to get a good night's sleep. She slouched out of bed and slowly made her way back to the staircase. She couldn't stop the dream from playing over and over again in her head and the more she thought about it the more hesitant she was to answer the door. Regardless of her fear, the thought that Tom could be waiting on the other side stopped her from crawling back in to bed.
Jane arrived at her destination. She carefully brought her hand up to the doorknob and eased open the door. Concealing herself, she peered around the half open door. There was no Tom. No man wearing a plaid jacket. As a matter of fact, there was no one there at all. Nothing but the constant downpour of rain as the lightning lit up the distant sky.
'Well that’s odd', she thought to herself. Jane pushed the door closed and decided to go to the kitchen. The clock was about to strike twelve yet she was now wide awake. Tom had never stayed out this late before. She sensed that something was definitely wrong. Jane located a bottle of red wine and popped the cork off. 'Maybe a drink will take my mind off it, she thought. One was the magic number. The last thing Jane wanted to do was fall back into her old habits. "I hope you know this is your fault." And to that she drank.
Ding! As if to prevent her from doing something she would most likely regret, the doorbell rang again. "Again?" Jane slammed down her glass on the countertop and bolted to the door. She flung it open with a great force. Once again, nobody was there. This time Jane stepped out onto the porch to seek out who was causing all the trouble. She squinted as she peered off into the distance. Jane thought she saw the shadow of a young boy fade into the darkness of the woods. The image was vague but it was enough to pass off as an excuse for these strange occurrences.
Jane returned to the kitchen and clutched her glass of wine. She thought about it for a couple of seconds, turned around, and dumped the remainder of the dark liquid into the sink. It felt good to watch the wine swirl down the drain, empowering.
Jane grabbed the phone and began dialling her husband’s number. After full four rings there was still no answer so she put the phone back in its holder and slumped onto the couch. She reached for the television remote and began flipping through channels. The 12 o'clock shows were not exactly the greatest so she settled for a rerun of jeopardy. She never understood how or why these people could know so much about nothing. After about ten minutes of guessing with no success she admitted defeat and returned to flipping channels. 'Desperate Housewives' appeared on the screen and she set down the remote. She enjoyed this show because she always felt as if she could relate.
Suddenly the house went black and Jane was left by herself sitting in the darkness. The only thing she could hear was the constant pounding of the rain on the roof that refused to go away. At this point sleeping was Jane's only option. She slowly rose from the couch and felt her way to the staircase. Her left hand strongly gripping the rail, she began to make her way up step by step. There was a flash in the corner of Jane's eye. It had come from behind her and it was definitely not lightning.
Induced by a sudden surge of adrenaline Jane dashed up the stairs and into her room where she had a flashlight waiting in her night table drawer. Beside the flashlight laying in the drawer was a revolver. It had never been used but she took comfort in having it available to her. If there was any time that Jane needed some added comfort it was now so she buried the weapon in her front pocket with the barrel facing to the sky. She grabbed the flashlight, flicked the switch to ‘on’ and silently but quickly emerged from the bedroom. With the flashlight close to her chest she began surveying the house. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead as she got closer to where she had seen the light. At this point she was shaking with each baby step she took. Jane took a deep breath and shined the flashlight down the hall. The back door was wide open.
Jane’s heart skipped a beat. She could no longer hide the fear that was now etched all over her face. She was not the only one in the house and she knew it. 'Why couldn't I have locked the doors?' she thought to herself, but of course it was too late. She walked the remaining distance of the hallway and nudged the back door closed with her foot. Jane turned to the only unchecked part of her house left, the basement. Darkness engulfed her as she began her descent. As she came closer to the bottom floor, although it was very soft, Jane thought she could hear music. It got clearer and clearer. By the time she reached the bottom she was sure the sound she was hearing was the relaxing melody of a violin. She guessed whoever was there must have found their old record player.
She could see a faint light at the end of the room. It appeared to be coming from atop a table but it was too dim to make out its surroundings. Jane raised the flashlight to get a better look but as if every event of the night had been planned the beam of light faded and disappeared. At this point all that Jane could see was this single light, like the light at the end of a tunnel. Over the softly playing music she began to hear footsteps. "Who’s there?!" she shouted, but there was no response. The footsteps seemed to be getting louder. Jane didn't know what to do. She came to a complete stop in what seemed to be the middle of the room and closed her eyes. Something was getting close, she could feel it and she was ready for it.
The footsteps came to a halt and a warm sensation came over the back of Jane's neck that made her cringe. Whoever was there had stopped directly behind her and she could now hear their every breath, deep and shaky. Suddenly a strong pair of arms wrapped around Jane's body. She acted fast, throwing the pair of arms out of the way. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the revolver and fired a full round into the darkness. 'Thump.' She had hit her target.
'What have I done?' she thought to herself. The room was too dark to see who had fallen victim to her moment of panic but at this point it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was safe. She decided that she would deal with the situation in the morning, right now what she needed was some sleep. Jane made a 180 degree turn and headed towards the stairs. As she made her way upstairs Jane made sure that both the front and back doors were locked up tight. Finally feeling safe she rolled into her bed. Her mind was racing. Who could be downstairs? Were they dead or just injured?
The room suddenly flooded with a light that made her squint. Jane's eyes were so used to the darkness that the light had a blinding effect on her. She got up, stumbled over to the light switch and flipped it off. As she returned to her bed she peered out the window. She had been too caught up in the action to realize that the storm had ended a while ago. Something else outside the window caught her eye. Tom's car was parked in the driveway. Had he just got home?
Jane called his name as she made her way to the front door. "Tom?" There was no answer. She tried calling his name a few more times but each attempt resulted in a similar silence. She opened the front door and called his name again just in case he was outside. Once again, there was no answer. Jane froze, a sudden chill tickled her spine. "No, it couldn't be" she said to herself. With a sudden urgency Jane dashed down the stairs and into the recently brightened basement. As she reached the bottom she gasped in horror. Jane dropped to her knees and tears flooded her face. What she saw in that basement sickened her.
The soft romantic music continued to play as the record whirled around in a continuous loop. The light she had seen earlier atop of the table was a single candle with a flame that danced like grass in the wind. On either side of the tabletop was a china plate containing Indian cuisine, Jane's favourite food. The basement was set up for a romantic night, as if to say I’m sorry the last few years haven't been the greatest but I want you to know that I love you. Tom was about ready to go upstairs and whisk Jane out of bed but he had never got the chance. Instead he lay motionless on the floor with six bullets through his chest. Not far from Tom's cold, still hand rested a beautiful bouquet of lilacs.