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Flash Fiction / Im-Noir-tality: Drowning Lessons 2/3
I was ten the first time I lost everything that was dear to me. That was when I practically killed my own parents.
I remember being at home one day playing by myself in my bedroom. There was toy cars scattered everywhere. It was a regular old destruction derby going in there. Nobody was safe in the little world I created myself. Cars were skidding and ramming. They were flying through the air. They were crashing down, crushing shit.
I remember it was Trans-Am in my hand when I ran into the bug. It was a grasshopper. It must have come in here on something. An idea popped into my head immediately. I hopped up, I ran into the living room
My mom was passed out in the living room. She was drunk on the couch. I went to the coffee table and snatched a lighter. I ran back into my room. The grasshopper had moved. On my hand and knees I searched for the thing. There it up against the curtains. Crawling over to it I lit the lighter. I put the flame up to the little green creature.
It turned brown. It started boiling from the inside. Smoke grew from its shell. Out of nowhere the drapes caught fire, they caught quickly. I leapt up and ran to my mother. It didn’t occur to me to call nine-one-one. When you were a kid, you didn’t think like that. Your parents were your superheroes. They could solve anything. No matter how drunk they were.
Shaking my mom, I screamed her name, “Mom, mom!” She didn’t move but moaned. She muttered to be left alone. I shook her, I hollered, “Fire, fire!” Still, there was no sign of life. I ran back to my room. She still didn’t follow. I ran back and shook her again. Finally, she jumped up, she got the message.
She didn’t grab the phone either. Rolling off the couch she stumbled around the coffee table then sailed across the room, an oxymoron in motion, to my room. The fire was bigger. The whole curtain was aflame now. My mother ran to it and she tugged. She tripped and then the curtain fell on her. She was screaming. I tried to grab the curtain. I was scared, I couldn’t do it. The smell was horrible; sweet and sick. Her screams were worse. I ran to the phone. I called nine-one-one.
After that I don’t remember much. I remember though sitting in the police station. My father was out of town. He was a salesman. They called him and he was on is way to get me.
When he came in I could feel the hate. The hate he felt for me. The look he had told me no lies. We left the station. The house was a mess. We stayed at a hotel for a month. I was only fed once a day. My father did his best to never look at me. I wanted to say I was sorry. But I was scared.
When the house was repaired we moved back in. Nothing changed. My father still hated me. He still fed me only once a day. We never looked eye to eye; he hardly came out of his room
One day I was just sitting there. I stopped doing things. Most of the time I spent in my room, I just sat there quietly. Something inside me was broken. Guilt was tearing up inside. I wanted my mom back. I wanted my dad back.
One day I was standing, looking out the window. I heard his voice, “Turn around.” The first words I had heard him speak in more than two months. My heart leapt for joy. Finally, my dad was speaking to me. I turned around. My eyes grew wide. I was staring down the barrel of a gun.
There was anger in his eyes. I saw the devil. His face was a blank mask, all the emotion he bore he did so in his eyes. I hung my head, I accepted my fate. A loud bang interrupted the silence. I looked up. On the floor laid my dad, the ceiling was splotched by red. I passed out.
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PenelopeMV reviewed Version 1 -
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The style is fine. The story needs to be told in a way that it doesn’t read like a report. I know what you’re trying for- you just need to keep trying for it. The story is good- but as a reader I wasn’t involved emotionally- nor was I horrified by the incidents you portrayed. It lacks emotion- and I don’t mean screaming in your face- I mean caring about the vunverability of the character-the little kid who was a throw away. Some how you have to make the reader care.
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Lyrikkal1 reviewed Version 1 -
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Wow. I think that was a great story. Very well written and the sentences were clipped but not so short. The whole thing flowed well and you’ve presented an interesting protagonist.The story is kind of gruesome which doesn’t appeal to everyone (it does to me but that’s beside the point :P)but a childhood memory like this, to me, creates bucketloads of interest. Great job.
JaneLloyd reviewed Version 1 -
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at home one day playing by myself
day, playing
destruction derby going in there.
*going on in
it was Trans-Am
You need a “the” or “a” trans-am
Crawling over to it I lit
it, I
Out of nowhere the drapes caught fire, they caught quickly.
Watch the repetition of caught
I remember though sitting
,though,
I really like where you ended this, actually. It leaves us wondering a few things, did say… an uncle come by, see what the dad was gonna do, and shot him, did the father kill himself, did the boy kill his father. I like that you don’t tell us what exactly happened so that we have the room to come up with our own answers. I feel that the tone of this story is much different to the first part, the narrators voice doesn’t feel the same and I wouldn’t have thought it was connected if I didn’t know. That being said, it does stand on it’s own. I think it’s a fitting piece because you leave us on both sides with the kid. One, he’s a KID, that’s self explanatory. At the same time, he set fire to an innocent creature and as a result killed his mom. This dual relationship allows us to make our own decision on the good or evil of this kid. As always, your writing is great and I enjoyed it!
volvita reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a compelling story but there are several errors/typos that detract from it. Subject/verb agreement, comma splices, missing words, etc. I’d be happy to get into specifics if you’re interested, but you could probably catch a lot of it with a careful re-reading. Also, parts like “When he came in I could feel the hate. The hate he felt for me.” kind of slow the story down. Don’t tell us about it, show us, through his words or expression or body language.
Marvin reviewed Version 1 -
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good opening, good voice. however, “I practically killed” slowed me for a moment.personal preference, but “practically” sounds odd. “nearly?” up to you.
”...derby going in there.”—kill “going in there.” if you want. don’t need it.
“I hopped up”—triple threat “hop” in this segment. enjoyed it. “grasshopper” “popped” then “hopped.” the sound is fun.
“My mom was passed out in the living room. She was drunk on the couch.”—fine, but long. consider tightening to make it more direct, ie, “My mom was passed out in the couch.” at this point, we already knew our protag is in the living room. unnecessary info. keep an eye out for it.
“There it up against the curtains.”—missing a word here?
“her name, “Mom, mom!”—-her name is mom? she must have had mean parents.
“We never looked eye to eye”—good line. double-meaning. nice.
strong, shocking close. well played.
overall-
i enjoy the style. spare and direct. nameless protag? intriguing. twisted. certainly interesting to follow.
criticisms?
small stuff. pointed out a few. easy fixes.
well done, sir.
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