Story #19

“Would you like some halibut?” The old man extended his crusty, dirty fingers to the young boy. The boy quickly shook his head ‘no.’

“More for me.” The old man continued to eat like a slob, practically inhaling every piece of fish he crumbled up and threw into his mouth. The young boy stared at him, obviously disgusted by the sight of the old man.

“I suppose I should tell you my name. It’s Larry. Nice to meet you.” The old man aka Larry, put out his hand for the young boy to shake it. The boy slapped his hand away and began to cry.

“No, no, no, little Kyle. We don’t hit people. That’s wrong.” Larry smacked Kyle upside his head and Kyle cried harder. The old man, obviously amused by the irony, sat back and stared at Kyle.

“I just want to go home.” Kyle started to bang his little 11 year old head against the bars separating him from freedom. Larry tried to look sympathetic, but he was not. He watched Kyle for a bit, then proceeded to eat the rest of his fish. He didn’t even bother to look up at Kyle, who had eventually stopped sobbing.

“Why am I here, mister?”

Larry looked up and cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy. He smiled, showing the few teeth he had left in his mouth. It was incredibly terrifying. “Would you like to leave?”

Kyle shook his head ‘yes;’ although, he was unsure if it was a trap or not. Larry sprang up from his chair, faster than Kyle thought he could, and walked over to the hook with the keys to the cage. Kyle’s heart beat rapidly.

Suddenly, Larry stopped. He slowly turned to face Kyle, the keys still dangling on the hook. “I think you should stay a little longer.” Larry stared intently at the young boy. All that happiness and hospitality from before had faded from his face. He was becoming a monster again. Kyle knew he would never escape the old man and cried again. All hope was lost.

I’ve been wanting to start a story with the first sentence since Friday. My stories really begin to take a mind of their own after the first few sentences and I just let it take me where it wants. No story board or plot goals; just pure writing.

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