FOURTH FICTION – Outsiders
People, I really wish to perform a full revision before posting, but since I’m so late and will have no time as soon as I can see, I decided to post it anyway. Hopefully, there will not be (lots of) huge stupid grammar/misspelling mistakes… :S
Round 10 – to kill off one of your characters.
He thought about what she’d just said. Maybe it was true… If those guys had spent six years in jail for a prank, they must be really mad with her… Guys who carried guns like that, who shot without hesitation like that… Couldn’t be nice and warm people. “Who are those guys anyway, babe?” “We never knew exactly, honey, but rumor was, and still is, that they are some kind of gun dealers or something… ‘Cause they are always here, we’ve often seen guns, people coming and going all the time; they never work, but always had food, gas, beer… Perhaps they were not felons before, but they definitely are now…” “But are they on probation or really free?” “As far as I know, they’re free for good baby. ‘Cause it was considered almost self-defense, something like this, I don’t recall now… All I know is they were convicted for 6 years, no more than this…” “And why didn’t you move? I mean… you knew these men are coming back someday… This is their house; where else could they go after spent this long in jail?” “’Cause I can’t. That one, over there” she pointed to a pale dirt-pink bungalow across the street “is my house too, after all. I’ve tried to sell it – my Mom tried, but look around, hon… This is not exactly Beverly Hills… We’re in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of fuckin’ desert, baby. No one had even came to see the house, ever. “We can’t afford another place with my Mom’s pension. I started working just two years ago, and I’m a fuckin’ waitress, half shift. Even with the tips, all we can do was stay and hope. And, to make things even ‘better’” she drew imaginary quotation marks in the air “Mom decided to die last year… Cancer. I’m still figuring out how to pay hospital bills. It’s over 20 grands. So, darling… That’s why I stayed.” There were no tears in her eyes, but her voice was strangled, as if she’d cried. It wasn’t easy to her to talk like this, he figures. She was trying her best, till now, to appear fearless, a little crazy, not-giving-a-damn the whole time. But, truth is, and now he knew, she was just a girl, with a horrible life story, trying to stay alive. Holding her by the arms, he couldn’t think anything smart to say. In fact, he couldn’t think anything at all to say. Her life has been so absolutely different from his, that everything would seem stupid. He decided to just kiss her forehead, gently, holding her head by the chin. She smelled like flowers, even after all this, and he wonders how could that be possible. He felt like stinking himself, but didn’t care. She needs a soft touch right now. But exactly while his lips were pressed against her skin, a horrible noise could be heard, and the window exploded. Broken glass jumped everywhere, and a smoke smell invaded the kitchen. It was all so quickly that WG was still trying to understand what was that, when she felt on her chest. Then he saw blood. Blood was staining the floor now, so fast he could not help himself of thinking how might that be possible. He was wondering whose blood was that, when the cat produced an awful sound, and then rolled from her lap into the floor, lifeless, he was sure. Everything seems to be in slow motion, and happening real fast at the same time. Darla wasn’t moving anymore, a huge pain came on his waist and he saw blood there too. He was shot. Darla was shot. The cat was shot. The cat was dead. He was alive. Darla… he had no idea. The silence began again, and now he could think a little better. He tried to wake up Darla, but she didn’t respond. He looked through the window, and saw the man, not so far from the house, still holding a big smoking shot-gun. He thought the man was smiling. It was the last thing WG was able to see. Then, everything became black, as he passed out.
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