|King of (standard:Psychological fiction, 1157 words)|
|Author: Zeth||Added: Oct 17 2007||Views/Reads: 2762/1176||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|I never got to put the last word in the title. tHIS IS the story of a kid named Seth Rossmen, droven insane by the voices that haunt his dreams ever since his mother past away. I shrunk it down to see how people would react to it. so it is a little shallo|
KING OF Written by Zeth Horn The wind pushed the rain lazily around July 27 the day his mother died. She had peacefully passed too the realm of angles at 6:13 P.M. of cancer of the lung. He and his father were sat at a café on the outskirts of Cheyenne, Wyoming. Chewing silently at their stakes. “Dad, what do you think she is doing right now”, he asked “I am sure she is meeting all of her relatives. Having a joyous time”, father said. The child's name was Seth Rossmen. The fathers name was Les. Seth had brown strait hair, tall and average weight. He dressed in grays and blacks. Les, 5' 7” possessed thinning black hair. He was round on the edges but not huge. He had only one love of his wife, and cancer stole her, quick as a thief in the night. She had passed in two short years battling with cancer. But, it was a ferocious battle. To Seth's surprise he was almost unaffected by this sudden corner in his life. He was at his friend's house; Josh I think was his name. His father came in, tears swimming from his face. Seth knew it was coming, he just couldn't speak, he just welcomed his fathers warm grasp, silently crying. They had gone to the hospice center. Seth felt like he was in a weird dream. A dream that was horrible. He listened to his aunt's ramble, his cousin cry. It made him feel bad. Why wasn't he crying, what was wrong with him? He stepped outside to the gray, welcoming sky and sat down. Pondering what happened. He knew this would come. Rain fell from the grey sky. Dark was approaching very fast. Even in summer it was dark even at 7. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They rode home with full stomachs in their middles. They just entered a vague, dark tunnel that would change both of their lives forever.... Two weeks later, Les and Seth were collecting their wits. If you have ever lost someone, you know what I mean by ‘collecting their wits.' Seth was still not reacting much to the tragedy. They were doing better though. School had started for Seth and Les. Seth was starting his first year in junior high, which was 7th grade. And, Les, was a school bus driver at the same school. Seth's first class was math, one of his favored classes. They all had to take a math assessment to se if they were suitable for Pre-Algebra. The next class was tech ed. They started making clocks. He made a board 8 and ½ inches long or so. It was grate. He went threw the other 6 classes with a strait face, like he always does. He hadn't spoken that day. It was fun to give people a look of sorrow and hatred when they looked at you. When he got home the silence continued. His father didn't even look at him when he got home. Seth guessed it was depression. Seth fixed his own dinner for the 14th time this week! That night, the dreams returned from their deathly homes. In the dream, he found himself on a patch of grey grass, 10ft. wide and tall. The owner of the voices had no figure, only an undecipherable shape, pitch black on black, you could hardly tell he was there. “Listen”, echoed the voice, “Don't go to school tomorrow, ditch”, said the voice, it was raspy and worn out. But it had malice. “I would never ditch”, Seth said truthfully. “Fine” and the figure disappeared. He smelt it first, a soft, good-smelling smell. But then, he saw it. Smoke erupted from under his shoes. Seth gasped and hopped back, the same process started up again. When he looked where he had stepped it Click here to read the rest of this story (57 more lines)
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