Tendency

I was given an assignment for my Creative Writing class. To write a story about one of the following things in the third person "a man has lost his job, a fifty-year-old woman just found out that she is pregnant, a boy saw a ghost, a young girl just lost something that wasn't hers, a woman from another country has decided to move to another country for love." I chose the boy who saw a ghost, and I hope you enjoy. 

Tendency

By Dustin Anderson

“Mommy… Daddy... I can’t sleep.” A young boy stood in the archway of his parent’s room, his blonde hair bouncing off the soft light coming from his elder’s alarm clock. The light put a red hue on his favorite pair of Pokémon Jammies. He seemed anxious as he stood there waiting patiently for his parents response. There was an acrid smell wafting from the room and the boy noticed that only one of the parents seemed to be in the bed. He tried to see which of his parents were in their so he would know the type of caution to approach with. He couldn’t get a good look though since whoever it was wrapped themselves tightly with the covers. He tiptoed closer to the bed going into more detail about his predicament as he approached.

“Mommy… Daddy… there is someone watching me from my window, can I please sleep in here?”

He made it to the bed and noticed the alarm clock’s light bouncing off something wet underneath his parent. The red hue from the alarm clock made it hard to discern what type of substance it was so he called to whoever was under the covers again.

“Mommy… Daddy… Did you wet your bed?” He shook the form under the covers to no avail.

“Mommy… Daddy… Please wake up. The person outside my room is scaring me. Please wake up.” He shook more, and more, as the covers refused to release whatever spell they had over his parent. His shaking loosened something from under the covers, it fell to the ground with a noticeable metal clank.

It was a knife. Stained with the same liquid that covered the bed.

The boy looked up and saw the curly, brunette hair that belonged to his mother finally peeking out of the covers.  He held the knife in his hand confused, as the light came on to explain the scene. His father stood in the archway of the door, horror stuck by the sight in front of him. Blood covered his marital bed, and the murder weapon still in his son’s hand. He ran over to see the lifeless body of his wife, and turned to his son.

He struck the boy across the face with the backside of his hand. “What have you done? You little demon!” He struck his son again and shook him for an answer.

“Daddy!” He screamed through the shakes, “I don’t know what you are talking about!” The boy truly couldn’t comprehend the situation as his father kept shaking him. “What’s wrong with mommy? Why won’t she wake up?” His father furiously picked the boy up, and rushed them downstairs so he could call the police.

On their way down stairs they pass his sons room. The boy looks inside, at the window, as the person who was looking at him starts to wave. There was a deep cut mark on her wrist as she gave a depressing, melancholy wave towards the boy. He waved back at her as his father frantically dialed the phone.