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Whispers of the Dark
#WritcoStoryPrompt29
I ran all the way home from the ground. The older boys had beaten me up good but I still had the strength to run as far as I could from them.
I knew my mother would be the next one to thrash me for getting beaten up, which was ironical, if you know what I mean. But I had no choice. I couldn't tell her the real reason the boys picked on me...
When I burst through the front door, the house was eerily quiet, a stillness that was only broken by the distant hum of the refrigerator. I could already feel the sting of my mother's disappointment in the pit of my stomach. I had to get out of there. My eyes darted around the cluttered living room until they settled on the small, wooden box that had belonged to my grandfather. It was tucked away in the corner, almost hidden beneath a pile of old magazines and dust.
I opened the box with trembling fingers. Inside,...
I ran all the way home from the ground. The older boys had beaten me up good but I still had the strength to run as far as I could from them.
I knew my mother would be the next one to thrash me for getting beaten up, which was ironical, if you know what I mean. But I had no choice. I couldn't tell her the real reason the boys picked on me...
When I burst through the front door, the house was eerily quiet, a stillness that was only broken by the distant hum of the refrigerator. I could already feel the sting of my mother's disappointment in the pit of my stomach. I had to get out of there. My eyes darted around the cluttered living room until they settled on the small, wooden box that had belonged to my grandfather. It was tucked away in the corner, almost hidden beneath a pile of old magazines and dust.
I opened the box with trembling fingers. Inside,...
