The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog. While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience. Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections. Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.
This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.
Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author. Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.
If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts and webseries!
“Hey Scott,” Arnie said in greeting. “Is it alright if I sit here?”
Scott was sitting at a small table on the second level of the library. He had picked this spot because it was near the periodicals and was normally secluded, but somehow luck just wasn’t going to be with him this afternoon. Though he had his books spread out over the table, Arnie seemed content to fill in the piece of the pie he had left bare.
“I guess,” he answered with a sigh.
Arnold plopped down in the chair across from him and steepled his fingers, studying him. Scott looked up from his book, slowly, when he felt the other’s eyes upon him.
“Nothing! You look different, is all.”
Arnie smiled and pushed his glasses higher up his nose.
“Why don’t you take a picture then? Write a book or something, shit, but quit staring at me. What’s your problem anyway?”
“I thought maybe you could use someone to talk to.”
“And what makes you think that I want to talk to you, Arnold? Does this look like the kind of place that someone goes to when they want to have a friendly little chat? For that matter, when did we suddenly become friends?”
Arnold continued to remain unfazed by the obvious hints he left for him and he was losing his patience. He had chosen this spot as a place where he could recharge his mental batteries. This is where he came to study, to enjoy a new book and to prepare himself for the labors of having to deal with people during the second half of the day. What he didn’t want to do was spend it with someone who was beneath him, in the long line of bullied victims.
“Why do you care so much about how I’m feeling all the sudden?”
“People are talking, Scott, and I AM concerned. I know what it’s like to not have any friends. I’ve been doing this for years, but you… You’ve gotten yourself into something that’s on an entirely different level.”
“I don’t really give a rat’s ass WHAT people are saying, Arnie, I never have. So, you’re like the king turd when it comes to not having friends or something? You may not have noticed, but I don’t exactly have any friends myself.”
Arnold looked at him with something that was a bit more like pity than he was comfortable with and he began to feel something clawing at him from the inside. The ‘other’ was suckling on his his rage, growing stronger from the pure emotion that was pumping in his veins and he viciously ground his teeth together as he fought to keep ‘him’ at bay.
Arnie sighed, rather sadly, and lowered his hands to the table.
“We’re not too different, you and I…”
“…more so then you’ll ever know…”
“…just trying to offer you friendship, when everybody else only offers disdain.”
He had missed some of what Arnie said, when the ‘other’ spoke, but it didn’t make that much of a difference. He was able to fill in what was missing. A part of him wanted to accept the offer on the table, but at the same time, another part of him was reminded of what had happened in his kitchen.
Images of Tippy flashed through his thoughts; of him standing outside with a shovel, burying her beneath the Maple tree. He was reminded of the night when he had fantasized about killing his sister, and, of how he had thought it was real. His heart ached as he battled with memories of his most recent visit to Lucy’s house.
She had been so sweet at first. She had payed for their first date, and afterwards, gone down on him in the car. It was the first time he had ever been with a girl, in any capacity, and it had felt so good that he was instantly trapped in her web. She continued to do things to, and for, him over the next several days. Until…
”You’re going to learn something about me, Scott…”
With Lucy, he had found himself with a whole new set of problems. Friendship? He barely had enough to offer himself anymore, let alone to give to someone new.
“I don’t think so,” he finally admitted.
Arnie shrugged, a gesture which was innocent enough but strummed dangerously on his last nerve, and stood up to leave.
“If you won’t accept MY friendship, Scott, when all I am offering is someone you can talk to…” He let the thought trail off and looked at him for a few minutes longer, as if waiting for him to suddenly change his mind.
“Just so you know,” he said as he was leaving, “the offer’s always on the table.”
“About fucking time,” the ‘other’ said as he leapt to the front of his consciousness, “I thought we were going to have to push him over the railing in order to shut him up!”
Scott succumbed to the will of the ‘other’, who had become considerably stronger over the last few weeks, and it would be hours before he would escape from his dark prison.