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short story entry for a contest thinger
Alright, so recently I joined this community called writers_asylum. I don't know how to make the little community....icon thinger. Anyway. They're having a contest - create a poem, story, etc. centering around a theme. The theme for this time was "the devil made me do it." This is my entry. Not my favorite short story, but I've been trying to break away from poetry a little bit and get more comfortable with prose.
I should note that this story is not based on personal experience or people I know - it's all fiction.
“Goodbye, Lanie” Lanie typed “wait” but before she could hit enter, Jimmy had signed off. The entire conversation was worrisome, but the last word in particular had Lanie scared. Jimmy always ended their conversations by saying, “Good night, Lanie.” It would probably seem trivial to anyone else, but Lanie and Jimmy had been talking online for years and parts of their conversations were expected. They had even had a conversation about saying “good night” – it wasn’t as final as goodbye, and when someone said “good night” it sounded like you would talk to them the next day. Lanie rested her head on her hands, staring at the monitor and trying to figure out what she could possibly do. Jimmy had been very despondent tonight. Usually Lanie could cheer him up, but tonight she felt like she'd had absolutely no effect on him. The light of the computer illuminated her face and she pressed her fingers against her mouth, rocking back and forth slightly. Finally, she realized that all she could do was go to bed. Lanie was only 15, so she didn’t have a driver’s license and it was 1:00 in the morning, so she couldn’t leave on her bike without waking up her parents. But he could die, said a fearful voice. Oh shut up, how would he die? Lanie pondered picking up the phone and calling Jimmy, but that would surely wake up his parents and require quite a bit of explaining.
Under normal circumstances, Lanie would have had difficulty falling asleep but her conversation with Jimmy had taken a toll on her. Exhausted, she drifted into dreams of her best friend – laughing, joking, teasing. Crying, curled up on his bed, typing dismal messages to her in the dark, tears rolling down his face.
Lanie woke up feeling awful but for a few moments, she couldn’t remember why. She recognized her fear and then remembered her conversation with Jimmy. Her clock told her it was 9:04 am. Jimmy’s parents were at work. Lanie picked up the phone and dialed his number. Ring, well it is only 9:00, maybe he’s not even awake yet....Ring...okay, he must have heard that one...Ring...come on, Jimmy, pick up the phone...Ring...Jesus, pick up the damn phone...Hello, this is Jimmy. We’re not able to come to the phone right now, so please leave your name and a message and we’ll call you back. Have a nice day! Lanie set the phone down. A sick feeling was starting to rise up in her throat. God, he probably just didn’t hear the phone, chill out. She put clothes on, pulled her bike out of the garage, and raced to Jimmy’s house.
She tried to explain what Jimmy could be doing while pedaling, telling herself all the places he could have gone and giving reasons for the way he had acted last night. Finally she reached his house. She ran to the door and pounded on it, trying to catch her breath. She listened, but could hear no one approaching the door. She pounded again, shouting,
“Jimmy! Come on, open the door!” There was no answer. Lanie opened the screen door and knocked on the wooden door. Without hesitation, she opened the door and walked in the house. “Jimmy?” She walked slowly, not bothering to remove her sandals. All the curtains and blinds were closed, so despite the bright sun outside, it was dark and gloomy in the house. Lanie found Jimmy’s closed bedroom door and knocked once again. God, why didn't I call last night? I'm so stupid. Why the hell would I be scared of his parents? I could have saved him... “Jimmy, I know you have to be awake in there! Now come on and let me in!” There was no answer, so Lanie turned the knob and swung the door open. She heard her breath escape her mouth in a way that sounded like relief – there was Jimmy, curled up under the covers of his bed – the sheets slowly rising and falling with his breath. See? she told herself, he’s fine, you made a big deal out of nothing and now everything’s fine. But then Lanie noticed some spots of red on the pure white of the sheets. “Jimmy!” She pulled the sheets off of him and felt extremely sick at the sight of thin layers of blood caked inside of his bed. The underside of his forearms were lacerated and his eyes were screwed shut, refusing to open. Lanie faltered, her mind screaming this isn’t real, this is a dream, Jimmy’s fine, this is a dream this is a dream it’s a lie this isn’t my life! A raspy hiss escaped Jimmy’s mouth, and Lanie leaned closer, saying, “What, Jimmy?”
“Lanie...” he said in recognition. He held up his arms, showing her his self-mutilation. “...the devil made me do it.”
I should note that this story is not based on personal experience or people I know - it's all fiction.
“Goodbye, Lanie” Lanie typed “wait” but before she could hit enter, Jimmy had signed off. The entire conversation was worrisome, but the last word in particular had Lanie scared. Jimmy always ended their conversations by saying, “Good night, Lanie.” It would probably seem trivial to anyone else, but Lanie and Jimmy had been talking online for years and parts of their conversations were expected. They had even had a conversation about saying “good night” – it wasn’t as final as goodbye, and when someone said “good night” it sounded like you would talk to them the next day. Lanie rested her head on her hands, staring at the monitor and trying to figure out what she could possibly do. Jimmy had been very despondent tonight. Usually Lanie could cheer him up, but tonight she felt like she'd had absolutely no effect on him. The light of the computer illuminated her face and she pressed her fingers against her mouth, rocking back and forth slightly. Finally, she realized that all she could do was go to bed. Lanie was only 15, so she didn’t have a driver’s license and it was 1:00 in the morning, so she couldn’t leave on her bike without waking up her parents. But he could die, said a fearful voice. Oh shut up, how would he die? Lanie pondered picking up the phone and calling Jimmy, but that would surely wake up his parents and require quite a bit of explaining.
Under normal circumstances, Lanie would have had difficulty falling asleep but her conversation with Jimmy had taken a toll on her. Exhausted, she drifted into dreams of her best friend – laughing, joking, teasing. Crying, curled up on his bed, typing dismal messages to her in the dark, tears rolling down his face.
Lanie woke up feeling awful but for a few moments, she couldn’t remember why. She recognized her fear and then remembered her conversation with Jimmy. Her clock told her it was 9:04 am. Jimmy’s parents were at work. Lanie picked up the phone and dialed his number. Ring, well it is only 9:00, maybe he’s not even awake yet....Ring...okay, he must have heard that one...Ring...come on, Jimmy, pick up the phone...Ring...Jesus, pick up the damn phone...Hello, this is Jimmy. We’re not able to come to the phone right now, so please leave your name and a message and we’ll call you back. Have a nice day! Lanie set the phone down. A sick feeling was starting to rise up in her throat. God, he probably just didn’t hear the phone, chill out. She put clothes on, pulled her bike out of the garage, and raced to Jimmy’s house.
She tried to explain what Jimmy could be doing while pedaling, telling herself all the places he could have gone and giving reasons for the way he had acted last night. Finally she reached his house. She ran to the door and pounded on it, trying to catch her breath. She listened, but could hear no one approaching the door. She pounded again, shouting,
“Jimmy! Come on, open the door!” There was no answer. Lanie opened the screen door and knocked on the wooden door. Without hesitation, she opened the door and walked in the house. “Jimmy?” She walked slowly, not bothering to remove her sandals. All the curtains and blinds were closed, so despite the bright sun outside, it was dark and gloomy in the house. Lanie found Jimmy’s closed bedroom door and knocked once again. God, why didn't I call last night? I'm so stupid. Why the hell would I be scared of his parents? I could have saved him... “Jimmy, I know you have to be awake in there! Now come on and let me in!” There was no answer, so Lanie turned the knob and swung the door open. She heard her breath escape her mouth in a way that sounded like relief – there was Jimmy, curled up under the covers of his bed – the sheets slowly rising and falling with his breath. See? she told herself, he’s fine, you made a big deal out of nothing and now everything’s fine. But then Lanie noticed some spots of red on the pure white of the sheets. “Jimmy!” She pulled the sheets off of him and felt extremely sick at the sight of thin layers of blood caked inside of his bed. The underside of his forearms were lacerated and his eyes were screwed shut, refusing to open. Lanie faltered, her mind screaming this isn’t real, this is a dream, Jimmy’s fine, this is a dream this is a dream it’s a lie this isn’t my life! A raspy hiss escaped Jimmy’s mouth, and Lanie leaned closer, saying, “What, Jimmy?”
“Lanie...” he said in recognition. He held up his arms, showing her his self-mutilation. “...the devil made me do it.”