Writing a short story for my creative writing class. any edits or criticism would be appreciated. If you don't feel like reading then just go ahead and hit the back button lol. it's not long but it's def. longer than about anything else you'll read on here. We just had to write a fictional story and this is pretty tightly based on something that happened down the street from my parent's house. shit was crazy, i just made up some details. This is first draft or a "fast-wright" as my professor told us to do. so it's mostly just my first ideas. revisions will come later.
934 Evernham Street
“Four.” He stabbed her four times. She’ll never forget because she counted out loud. She had watched him slowly shuffle around the kitchen opening all the drawers looking for just he right utensil. He finally settled upon the cutlet knife. Beth’s heart dropped as he turned to her and grinned. He knelt down and asked if she could count to four. Tears streamed down her face as she nodded. He had told her to show him how good she was at counting. The only consolation she had was that her mother clearly passed away after the first blow to the left side of her chest. She knew this because she felt her mother stop wiggling.
Her mother never said a word after he flung open the door and pointed the gun in our faces. Never screamed, almost as if she was accepting her fate. Beth would never understand her mother’s lack of contest, but would also never try and think about it. Beth soon realized that was easier said than done. He pulled out the new roll of Duck brand duct tape and told us it was just to keep us out of the way. It was one of many lies he told her that day.
Beth had closed her eyes after that first fatal blow but heard every other one and counted just as she was told. Her wrists throbbed from the bracelet her mother was wearing. He had bound their wrists together so hard that it was beginning to cut into her. Now she was holding up her mother’s heavy lifeless body. The warm blood pooled around her legs and soaked into her socks. Beth had come to a point of numbness. There’s only so much a person can consciously accept. Beth had reached her limit.
She heard the man walk off the old linoleum of the kitchen and into the newly carpeted hallway. Each door in the hall was swiftly opened and each room was thoroughly inspected for another victim. After she heard door number two open she realized he had four more doors and opened her eyes. She looked through the open doorway in front of her into the living room saw her younger sister by five years, Nina.
Nina was six and still crouched behind the big maroon and green striped chair in the living room. She was in the fetal position on the floor with her head tucked in her arms just as Beth had told her when she heard the window break. Beth hoped that her normally stubborn sister had also listened to her instructions to keep her eyes closed and be as silent as possible. Beth managed a whisper, “N-Nina.” It came out just loud enough for Nina to peek up at her. She imagined how hard it was going to be to explain the blood-covered kitchen to such a tender imagination. “Come here.” Beth watched as Nina promptly scooted out from behind the chair and tip-toed into the kitchen. Beth instructed Nina to hurriedly grab the pink scissors from the top drawer that was still open from the man’s exploration. Nina went and slid the scissors out from under all the papers and pens that had been stacking up for years now. “Now cut the tape real careful. They’re real sharp, Nini.” She had been calling Nina “Nini” since she was born. Nina had always responded better to her sister’s pet name.
Beth felt the tension of the tape loosen and stripped her hands away with no regard for the pain of the industrial adhesive on her bare skin. She scooped Nina into her arms and sprinted through the front door. It was so bright outside. It made her squint and the heat was comforting. It was such a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. The girls and their mother were supposed to go the park that day. Nina had just gotten a new bike and they planned a trip to test it out at the park. All of them would ride together. They didn’t get many chances to do things as a family.
Now the girls ran. They ran across the normally busy street with no caution. Officer Holcomb had lived directly across the street from the girls for about three years now and had a young daughter of his own. Beth knew he was the answer. She ran through his front door, which was always unlocked, and into the Officer’s living room. Her and her sister stood in front of his whole family. Reddish-brown footprints trailed behind her from her still damp socks. She fell to her knees and wept on his floor as Nina told Mr. Holcomb that a bad man had broken their window. He didn’t say a word and Nina heard him load his gun as he was jogging through the yard. He would get him. It was over. She held her sister and continued to weep. She never got to tell her mother she loved her again. So she told Nina instead.