XxRockinTheMxX
kickbox
Idk if this is really a short story, or a part of a new novel. lol. But it was something I felt had to write. Please be critical and tell me what can be improved about my writing: I would greatly appreciate it! Ok, here goes nothing.
Timothy Borden sits in his room, in the dark, on the edge of the bed. He is wearing his school clothes, and is slightly slumped over. His hair is mussed, his face has a worn and tired look to it. But in his eyes, there is a strange look, almost dazed, as if he is daydreaming. But Tim knows where he is. He knows exactly how he is sitting, exactly what he is wearing, and exactly what he is holding in his gently moving hands. It is cold, and hard, made of metal. He fondles the smooth barrel, then slowly turns it upside-down. Barely moving, he reaches beneath the pillow next to him and pulls out a small black object, caringly inserting it into the shining black case, and then firmly snapping it into place. There is a solid click, right before he rises and turns to the door that leads to the lightless hallway. His steps are measured, and moderately quiet as he pads slowlytoward, then down, the hallway, but his eyes are focused, intent on the blackness at the end of the passage. The object hangs almost too loosely from his fingers, as if he is not ready yet to realize what he is about to do. When he reaches the door, his eyes travel to the knob, briefly, and he hesitates for the first time. Fear momentarily clouds his thoughts. He nods once, twice, and then continues, pushing open the door with an accustomed ease.
The dark blotch in the center of the spacious room is his goal as he paces silently, still strangely calm and detached. He seems to see the still form lying on the bed from a distance, and feels suddenly cold, staring at the long, loose hair that fans out over the pillow. A little light comes through the window, but not much. He doesn’t check the window: he already knows it is closed. He has this planned out to the smallest detail, from the quiet moment in his room, to the moments now, before he can leave. He stands there for a full minute, gazing at the woman lying on the white sheets. Then he grips the gun tightly, and raises it to her head. “Wake up”, he calls softly. THere is silence, and then her eyelids fluttter, a groan escapes. She is slowly awaking. His grip tightens. “Tim? Tim, is that you? What are you doing?” She sits up, then, not seeing the gun jerk at her sharp movement, turns to look at the clock.
“It’s one in the morning, what the hell are you doing in here this early?”Her head slowly shakes back and forth, shedding the invisible skin that sleep has lent her. She momentarily buries herself back into her pillow, then sits bolt upright. “Tim, are you okay?”
I’m fine- Tim almost answers her, out of habit, but then stops himself. Stick to the plan, the plan, the plan, he has to remind himself. I will not fail. This is real. She’s going to pay.
Tim’s hand loosened momentarily, and he let his gaze slip from the taut form on the white bed. There was a slight rustle of movement as he freed his other arm, and then a sharp click as he cocked the safety. The sound seemed to echo in the empty darkness. The woman heard it not a split second after Tim. Her head turned towards him.
“Tim?”
Timothy Borden sits in his room, in the dark, on the edge of the bed. He is wearing his school clothes, and is slightly slumped over. His hair is mussed, his face has a worn and tired look to it. But in his eyes, there is a strange look, almost dazed, as if he is daydreaming. But Tim knows where he is. He knows exactly how he is sitting, exactly what he is wearing, and exactly what he is holding in his gently moving hands. It is cold, and hard, made of metal. He fondles the smooth barrel, then slowly turns it upside-down. Barely moving, he reaches beneath the pillow next to him and pulls out a small black object, caringly inserting it into the shining black case, and then firmly snapping it into place. There is a solid click, right before he rises and turns to the door that leads to the lightless hallway. His steps are measured, and moderately quiet as he pads slowlytoward, then down, the hallway, but his eyes are focused, intent on the blackness at the end of the passage. The object hangs almost too loosely from his fingers, as if he is not ready yet to realize what he is about to do. When he reaches the door, his eyes travel to the knob, briefly, and he hesitates for the first time. Fear momentarily clouds his thoughts. He nods once, twice, and then continues, pushing open the door with an accustomed ease.
The dark blotch in the center of the spacious room is his goal as he paces silently, still strangely calm and detached. He seems to see the still form lying on the bed from a distance, and feels suddenly cold, staring at the long, loose hair that fans out over the pillow. A little light comes through the window, but not much. He doesn’t check the window: he already knows it is closed. He has this planned out to the smallest detail, from the quiet moment in his room, to the moments now, before he can leave. He stands there for a full minute, gazing at the woman lying on the white sheets. Then he grips the gun tightly, and raises it to her head. “Wake up”, he calls softly. THere is silence, and then her eyelids fluttter, a groan escapes. She is slowly awaking. His grip tightens. “Tim? Tim, is that you? What are you doing?” She sits up, then, not seeing the gun jerk at her sharp movement, turns to look at the clock.
“It’s one in the morning, what the hell are you doing in here this early?”Her head slowly shakes back and forth, shedding the invisible skin that sleep has lent her. She momentarily buries herself back into her pillow, then sits bolt upright. “Tim, are you okay?”
I’m fine- Tim almost answers her, out of habit, but then stops himself. Stick to the plan, the plan, the plan, he has to remind himself. I will not fail. This is real. She’s going to pay.
Tim’s hand loosened momentarily, and he let his gaze slip from the taut form on the white bed. There was a slight rustle of movement as he freed his other arm, and then a sharp click as he cocked the safety. The sound seemed to echo in the empty darkness. The woman heard it not a split second after Tim. Her head turned towards him.
“Tim?”
