She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XLII)

Disclaimer

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!

———

The shed was quiet for the next several minutes.  He had nothing to say and Arnie seemed content to sit in silence, which was fine by him.  He felt weak.  He was hungry, and worse yet, he felt like he had to go to the bathroom.  There was no telling what was going to happen in that department, considering the extent of damage to his insides.

He also knew that there wasn’t much time left.  Even with the ‘other’ influencing its control over him, he was still nothing more than flesh and bone.  He was beginning to feel the pain more acutely by the minute and it was only a matter of time before he wasn’t able to go on.

He thought about the project he had been working on in the den.  Would it be enough?  More importantly, would he be strong enough to wear it?

He thought again to the secret entrance his father had built to the den.  It wasn’t anything fancy.  It was nothing more than a short tunnel one had to crouch to get through, but it was stable enough that it had lasted all these years.  While he hadn’t been through it recently, he was confident that it was still usable.

The tunnel itself was four-foot tall by three feet wide.  There were supports placed every few feet, and the blandex ceiling kept the dirt from caving in.  Two light bulbs had been strung along the middle of the ceiling, with a switch being at either end of the tunnel.  Since he had stumbled across it, he had begun to use it as a place to hide things he didn’t want his mom or sister to find, such as his porn collection, fireworks, and various other things of value.

He slowly turned and regarded the nerd in the corner, who seemed to care so much for him but hadn’t said more than a dozen sentences to him over the years.  Arnie sat exactly as he had when Scott had first come to, on an overturned bucket in the corner.  He was holding the butcher knife between his right thumb and forefinger in offering, which only added one more strange thing about him to the list.

He didn’t say anything as Scott reached out and took it from him.  He only continued to cautiously regard him as he tucked the knife between his belt and jeans, where it had been before he’d blacked out.

“Why are you so interested in me, Arnold?  I’m just curious.  I don’t think you’ve said more than two words to me since…”

His words trailed off in mid-sentence as he drifted back into his thoughts.  There was something at the edge of his memory that flirted with him, teased him with some piece of truth he had long since forgotten.  Was it something about him and Arnie? He shook his head to help clear the cobwebs inside, but it was no good.  There was too much going on up there for him to focus on any one thought.

Arnie didn’t answer, he didn’t even move from where he sat on the bucket.  He only continued to watch him with the same apathetic expression that had come over his face as of late.  Something about the way he was acting scratched at the rage that was continuing to build inside of him and he turned his attention back to the crack in the door.  Now wasn’t the time for a silly argument with someone he didn’t really give two shits about in the first place.

He pressed his face against the warm fibers of wood, positioning it so that he would be able to see as much as was possible from where he was.  From outside the shed, the world was abuzz with life.  He could hear the sounds of cars driving by.  There were people talking somewhere in the distance, but they were far enough away that he couldn’t make out their words.  A dog barked.  Birds chirruped in the trees above and the occasional cricket brushed its legs together at it attempted to get the attention of another.

There didn’t seem to be anybody outside, at least as far as he could tell, and he didn’t waste another minute.  It was time to go.  He reached down with his right hand, flicked open the latch and slowly pushed open the door to the outside.

 

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