Day 231 – Choices – Short Story

We all make them, sometimes, we make the wrong ones, other times, it’s right. But, really, who is to say what you chose was wrong, is it the way society makes you interpret what you did, or is it something bigger? Is it the base morals you’re given when you are a child that turn what you do as an adult into right and wrongs?

I really don’t know, all I do know is some people might see my choices as mistakes, a path I started down that was fraught with disaster after disaster, a journey that turned me into something unworthy of drawing breath, and so on. But, for me the choices were clear, precise, and at all times, right for me.

Where do I start? How do I tell you my story and why should you listen, why you should consider that maybe, I, in my own way, have been correct in all the choices I’ve made, that society, the haunted, dark bitch she is, who labeled me a worm, a disgusting villainous being, is in fact, the villain, the cruel and unjust mother-fucker who casts her judgment like a porn star sprays his jizz, all over life’s arse hole.

I’ll tell you about the first, because, I think, it’s important, it’s detrimental to my story, it in a way shaped who I am today, and why, I keep doing what I do.

Don’t start thinking you know me, before I start, I’m no wanna be superhero, no gung-ho nut case taking down criminals, upholding liberty and everyone’s right to be given a chance. I’m not any of those things, my first kill, the one I keep revisiting over and over in my head while I masturbate, was Wendy Hilton, she lived next door to me as I was growing up, she was, when we were younger, a trusted friend, and, the first girl who touched my cock.

But, as the years went on, and we grew older, Wendy matured, became popular with all the boys, and I, fell to the way side. Now, it wasn’t jealousy that made me do it, once again, don’t jump the gun, don’t try to presume what I did, I did because I wanted her attention, and she wasn’t a slut, so take that off the list as well.

It was September, or sometime around September, it could’ve been October, but really it  doesn’t matter when it was, all you need to know is that I’d come home to visit the folks, they were old, and always complained I never visited. So, I arranged time off work and planned to stay for a week, maybe more.

Wendy, who I found out, had married local fuck face Steve Gall, I mean Steve Gall, seriously, any one but Steve FUCKING Gall, and they were staying with her parents, because Steve had recently lost his job and Wendy had to take up a position at the local Macca’s to support both of them. I heard them arguing the first night I was there, and then, the same thing happened the second, then the third, fourth and fifth, I swear, every night, they argued, smashed shit, then, either Steve would storm out, or they would fuck. I saw them on the fifth night, going at it, and Steve saw me, the dirty fucker smiled, so, I smiled back, then he started really giving it to her, I guess knowing someone was watching turned him on.

A few hours later, I was outside having a smoke, and he called out to me from the other side of the fence, we started having one of those awkward conversation, you know, those ones that are buffers for the real one. It took a while for him to finally get around to what he wanted to talk about, and, well I was a bit surprised, seemed he really liked to the idea of someone watching, so much so that he was still horny, and was hoping, maybe, I could watch him take Wendy again, but this time, he was hoping I’d play with myself as well, so he knew I was enjoying it to.

I told him to fuck off, that he was a fucking weirdo, and there was no way I was doing anything like that, he smiled, nodded his head, and told me it’s my loss, but he was still going to bang her again tonight, so, if I wanted a repeat, I knew where to look.

I could see the disappointment in his face fifteen minutes later, as he stuffed his semi-hard cock into Wendy, overeager to burn the wick at both ends, annoyed that I wasn’t watching, but, what he didn’t know was I was, not from across the yard, like before. This time I’d quietly made my way into their house, and was in the same room as them both, watching as he thrust her face into the pillow as he pounded his cock in to her, that’s when I struck, and drove the axe into the back of his head, then, while she was still unaware, bashed Wendy’s in as well.

So, that’s it, that’s how it all started, and now, for reasons unknown to myself, that’s what I do, so, don’t judge me, don’t look down on me, what I do is because, somewhere, deep inside, I kinda like it.

END

1 Comment

  1. sheldonk2014 says:

    You are no demon whisper
    Everyone has them
    Only you do and tell
    There are some of us who are bold enough
    To speak,trust me even the listeners
    Are enjoying
    Great piece Matt
    Sheldon

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Fitful, Fearful, Phantasmal

Original Writing Inspired by Poe, King, and Twilight Zone, namely Horror, Fantasy, Paranormal, Nonfiction, and Poetry

writemebad

a little bit smutty

Kindra M. Austin

poems & paragraphs

The Darkest Art

A journey through dark art.

Melissa Banczak, Author

June Nash MisAdventures Series

anansi2050

Deep Thoughts and Ideas

Mark Dawson's Self Publishing Formula

'Journey to a place, where all his nightmares, become your reality...'

A Song Of My Life

~ I'm a freaking vegetable!

the great confusion

structure bits

Quick Fix Short Stories

I am using this site to post very rough drafts of my short stories, flash fiction, and books. I hope you enjoy them but I also hope you take the time to give feedback on what needs improvement. Please feel free to be critical but not mean. All the help anyone could offer would mean the world to me so feel free to comment what you like, dislike, additional ideas, something you'd like to see in the story. Who knows if I ever get published I'll mention you in blurb at the beginning thanking everyone who helped me along the way. Thanks!

Bipolar Tapestry~Poetic Thoughts

~Poetry, Insight into Bipolar 1 Disorder, Blurbs of Thought, Personal Quotes, insight into romance, lost love, loss in general, and restoration~

The Ü | Reviews and Stories

Jade's movie reviews, short stories, and beyond.

Poems in a Coffer

When reluctance gives in to the urge of expression....

Behind Closed Doors

The Life of a psychopath's daughter

The Calling Crow

Memoirs of the crow

Malicia's Malebolge

A place for monsters

%d bloggers like this: