“That no good son of a bitch is not going to get away with this.” He looked up to the sky. The moon was high. He glanced at his watch. Midnight.
He staggered out of the shadows, ascending the 13 stairs to the front door of the building. A young couple was making out next to the coke machine. His eyes shifted slightly in their direction. She winked at him as her lover sucked on her luscious breast. The rage grew as he thought of his sister.
He marched on to the elevator and stopped. He hesitated a moment. “No wait. He would be waiting for me there.” He mumbled to himself. He continued on to the stairs.
A drunk laid across the landing. He stared at the drunk, hovering over him. So peaceful. He looked like his father use to just before he got up and beat the shit out of him and his sister. The rage exploded. He kicked the drunk over and over. “Get the fuck off her.” He shouted. “You know good drunk mother fucker." The drunk grabbed his side, rolling off the landing.
He straightened his jacket regaining his composure. He glanced back toward the coke machine. He caught a glimpse of the man’s bare ass moving up and down as he drove his lover to climate. He thought of his sister again. He looked down ready to kick the drunk again.
The drunk had crawled into the corner and was weeping quietly.
Pity and regret for what he did slipped into his mind. “Poor worthless soul.” He ascended to the fourth floor and exited the stairwell.
He pulled his gun slowly out of this jacket. He checked left. He checked right. No one. He proceeded down the hallway, stopping at 406. Terrible memories flooded his mind like poison. Father’s wrath. Mother’s sudden accident, resulting in her death. His sister crying herself to sleep every night. He stumbled back, wiping the tear from his eye.
“Time to face the music you, basturd.” He took a deep breath and released it. Then he charged the door busting the cheap lock. “Nobody fucking move!”
No answer. No one was there. He frantically searched the apartment, waving his gun from left to right. Every room was empty.
“Shit! Where the fuck is he?” He spotted a picture on the floor. He kneeled down, picking it up. The picture was of him and his sister. It was taken by their mother the day before the police found her in the park with a bullet in her skull. A tear escaped his eye.
“Welcome home, son.” The voice came from behind him. “I guess you heard about your sister.”
He was paralyzed with fear and raged. They battled inside him like two opposing armies. The battle raged until he finally he spoke. “Yes.”
“Damn, shame. I told her not to leave that night cause something bad would happen.”
The rage started to win the war inside him.
“I mean I told both you kids. This is a dangerous town. You should always carry some kind of personal protection.”
“Shut the fuck up, dad. This is not a social call.” He started to stand up when he heard the sound of his dad’s automatic being pulled back.
“Easy now, junior. We don’t want to do this?”
“Is this how you got rid of mom too or did you get one of your boys to do it?” He raised to his feet slowly holding the gun out of his father’s line of vision.
“No,” his father laughed slightly, “that was personal. She was running around on me so I fucked her brains out. Then I blew her brains out.”
The fear inside him retreated as his blinding rage slaughtered his wits. “So, why’d the hell you kill Eve? Molesting her wasn’t enough for you any more.”
“No, that was her fault. The little bitch was going to leave me. Get your hands where I can see them.”
He raised one hand.
“Get ‘em both up.” His father demanded.
The rage overpowered him taking control of his senses. The thoughts of his sister being raped, beaten, and final killed by this man was more then he could take. “Fuck you, dad.” He screamed, spinning around bringing his gun to bear, firing. The bullet pierced his forehead exiting the back with his brains trailing like a comet. He felt his sister lift him from his body somewhere in the fall to the ground. Then he watched from above as their father fired three more rounds into his empty body.
“Come on, Adam he can’t hurt us anymore.” They both looked up to see their mother smiling down on them. She took their hands and together they walked into the light.
Absorbing, passionate, a strong story. You have a good "voice". Has this been previously posted? I get the feeling I've read it before. Anyway, good job.
"The Great Teen Fruit War, A 1960 Novel" involves conflict between the Blues (sons of blueberry farmers) and the Reds (sons of peach growers) in a southern New Jersey agricultural community.
Retired! New start! Murder!
Todd, detective lieutenant, has retired from St. Louis, Missouri and has moved to Ford Valley, Arizona. When Todd’s ex-wife is killed in a car accident, Todd fights for custody of his teenage daughter. She has bee
