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Chris Redfern, 31 Jul '13

A BETTER PLACE                        

The young boy stands at the open bedroom door silently watching his parents fight. Suddenly his father sees him there and angrily throws an empty whisky bottle, striking him hard in the face. As his mother’s pleading cries ring in his ears, he turns and flees the house.
An hour later and he sits alone on a bench, feeding the pigeons next to the main street that runs through his small town. The tissue stuffed up one nostril has eventually stopped the bleeding. A gang of older boys emerge from a shop further up the street and before long they spot the boy. Quietly sneaking up behind him, one of them pours a bottle of coke over his head whilst the others all laugh and point. The young boy however doesn’t move; as always, he quietly accepts their taunts. Suddenly a shopkeeper calls out, accusing the gang of theft and given the opportunity the boy quietly slips away. Before long the gang notice and give chase.
The boy is beginning to tire as he climbs a slope that leads to the local woods. He knows from past experience that if he can get deep enough into the trees, he’ll lose them. A few minutes later and he sits at the base of a tree breathing heavily, listening to the older boys giving up the search. Suddenly he spots something in the distance. It’s glinting off the filtered sunlight that streams through the trees. Moving closer to investigate, he sees a strange, metallic object protruding several feet out of the woodland floor. Picking up a fallen twig he gently taps at it a few times before, feeling a little braver, hits it with a full swing. A hollow, metallic sound resonates out through the trees. As the noise subsides, he reaches forward with one hand to touch it... and two intense beams of brilliance radiate outwards from his eyes.
Returning to town, his nose is now clear of blood and his tee shirt clean of any coke stains. As he slowly makes his way down the main street, the gang of older boys once again spot him. They’re crossing the road towards him with dark intent when an articulated lorry suddenly mows into them, churning out a mixture of blood and screams.
The boy reaches home and finds his father in the living room, drinking scotch and watching TV. Seeing him in standing there at the doorway, his father rises angrily but, in his drunken state, somehow falls to the floor. The whiskey flows from the bottle grasped tightly in his hand and out across the carpet towards where several old, tatty looking cables enter an overloaded socket. The boy’s father writhes on the floor as the electricity consumes him. Finally, some minutes later, the smoking corpse is still.
The young boy waits in the kitchen. Before long, his mother, looking bruised and beaten finds him there. ‘Where are you going babe?’ she asks sadly, somehow already knowing the answer. The boy, his white eyes shining brightly, simply replies … ‘to a better place.’ With a sad smile, but now unquestionably happy, he turns and leaves the house forever.

Comments · 3

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  • Orlando Ramos said...

    Interesting, very eerie, almost like something you'd find in a goosebumps tale. Nice work

    • Posted 7 years ago
  • Chris Redfern said...

    Thanks @Orlando Ramos - I'm glad you liked it. To be honest, I wasn't really sure where I was going with this one. Turned out a bit wierd and spooky!

    • Posted 7 years ago
  • Ross Tarran said...

    Mysterious but satisfying!

    • Posted 7 years ago