[Rat]

Yep. As the title says, this is one of my odd stories. It is finished, and I know the guy's character needs a ton of work, but it's not likely to happen in the near future.

Er...anyway. Story:

“Hold me.” The tears in her voice added to the turmoil in his mind. “Please.” He put his arms around her, though more by natural reaction than his conscious decision. She held his arms tightly around her waist and leaned back against him. As her face turned slightly toward the window, the tears on her cheeks glistened in the cold moonlight. She pulled her knees up to her chest.

He didn’t know what was wrong except that something was out of place. Something in the room just wasn’t right. It didn’t seem as welcoming as it had before. The shafts of light filtering into the room from across the street seemed harsher, the shadows deeper and darker. The atmosphere was almost forbidding.

He had asked her what was wrong, why she was crying. She had wordlessly turned away from him and started sobbing. He had felt, and still did feel helpless. That scared him. He felt it was his duty to protect her, but he couldn’t if he didn’t know what was wrong.

A siren sounded in the street thirteen stories below. Blue and red lights flickered on the walls. A few minutes later – minutes in which neither of them spoke – heavy footsteps pounded past the hall door and stopped. Someone knocked on the neighbor’s door, and a muffled voice demanded entry. Moments later, there was a crash as the door was kicked in. There was yelling in the adjoining room, the neighbor’s living room, then a gunshot and the sound of something hitting the floor hard. He squeezed her tighter as more shots sounded, and another body fell.

She was trembling. He stroked her hair. “It’s okay baby,” he whispered. “Everything’s just fine.” His lips brushed her ear.

“Everything is not just fine!” she muttered. “I hasn’t been ‘just fine’ for a long time. Too long.” Her hands clenched his harder, her nails digging painfully into his skin.

“It would be, if you’d tell me what’s wrong.” He was pleading with her now. He needed to know what was wrong so he could fix it.

“I-I can’t,” she said softly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she told him. “I don’t know what I’d do if...” She broke off into sobs.

“I won’t get hurt,” he whispered. He held her tighter and continued, “I know how to take care of myself.”

“I know you do,” she said, “it’s just...”

“It’s just what? Please, Tara, please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Fine. Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” She turned and looked at him. Her eyes pleaded with him to not take the law into his own hands over whatever had happened.

“I promise. I won’t do anything stupid,” he said. Nothing stupid in my terms, anyway, he thought.

“It-it’s my brother...” she muttered something unintelligible.

“What? What’d that asshole do this time?” he growled.

“While you were at work, he...he came by. Forced the door open. He was drunk. And mad about something. Dunno what.” She stopped speaking and sobbed. After she’d calmed down reasonably, she spoke again. “He started...beating me up...then he...he dragged me in here.”

“He beat you up?!” her lover nearly yelled.

She nodded slowly. “And he raped me.”

“I’ll kill him. Swear to God I will.”

“No, Ty! Just call the cops. I don’t wanna see you in jail.”

“Fine. I’ll leave the bastard alone. The cops can deal with ‘im. Yeah.”

The phone on the bedside table rang. Tara picked it up. “Hello?” she asked.

“Is this Tara Benton?” the female voice on the end of the line asked.

“Yes, it is,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh...Ms. Benton,” the woman said, her voice devoid of emotion, “your brother is dead.”

“What? How?” Fresh tears streaked down her face.

“He hung himself.” There was a click as the woman caller hung up the phone.

“What happened?” Ty asked. He narrowed his eyes.

“It’s my brother. He hung himself.” She took hold of his hands again. He leaned forward, rested his head on her shoulder and stared off into space. Soon they had both fallen asleep.

END

August 3rd, 2002


Eep! Looking over it again, I realize that the guy's character needs a ton of work.

[v1510nAry]

I liked it.

Where you get the inspiration for it?

[ August 17, 2002: Message edited by: v1510nAry ]

[Malachi Maloney]

That is odd, but I like it.
I just wish we knew who the woman was who called and told them about the brothers suicide... That's the only part that seems off to me. She should identify herself, police operator, hospital staff, whatever.... Just to add a little believability to what she's saying...

Anyway.... I liked it.

Take it easy,
~M~

[Rat]

Glad you liked it!

v1510nAry - Not sure. Could've been that episode of Law & Order where they suspect a kid of killing his parents...or the fact that it was 2:30 in the morning, and my brain was functioning wierd.

Malachi Maloney - Hm...yeah. That's a good idea.

[Effigy]

it reads more like a screenplay than a story, but i guess it gets the message across.

[eyewoo]

I had a thousand images running through my head... well, a few any way. Very visual...