That Place

I went back to that place again, that barren wasteland of mud and rock. It was a dismal place, you couldn’t get within 3 feet of the water without being in ankle-deep mud and surrounded by sopping, wet, jagged rocks. It was once a better place, grass grew there once and even animals lived on the banks. Now, the government has permitted dumping, the lake now gives me a sense of pique. I used to swim in there with my older brother; he was killed in the lake, drowned. Doctors say he cramped up and sank like a rock, after the funeral people started saying things to me. Things like, ‘it’s not your fault.’ Or ‘you did what you could, you did your best.’ They were wrong, if doing ‘my best’ was to watch him die then yeah, I did my best. Now, his grave sits in a small clearing off the banks, guarded by a ring of frail, palpably weak trees. Teenagers’ party there, only because it’s close enough to the lake to be private, but far enough from the water for anyone to know. They often throw garbage inside the fence they frivolously built to guard my brothers stone. It’s because he was unpopular, and so am I, that’s fine by me, since the lake was so polluted now, I’d sink and so would they.

        I often went to his grave, not to pay respects or anything like that, just to clean the garbage that was surely piled in it. I would often clean up discarded amber colored beer bottles, and the occasional mangled Cheeto bag. I was cleaning like usual, picking up trash and throwing it into the lake, stopping for a second to watch the bottles quickly fill up with murky water and sink, I would repeat this until I had finished my ‘polluting’. Then as usual, I’d leave. Unlike all the other times, I saw a car coming, I hid in the bushes and watched as some punk-wannabes came out of the truck and pick up a metal lunch-box, I could hear what was inside, sliding and clanking, metal on metal. What was inside? One of them, a blonde, opened the lunch box and tossed the other boys something, spray-paint cans. They were going to graffiti my brothers’ grave. I was not about to let that happen, I looked around, a used cigarette bud, and….a broken bottle. I looked at it, more like stared at it really, the edges were sharp and jagged, like the rocks surrounding the lake, looking at my new found weapon, suddenly, I heard two of the cans hitting trees and bouncing into the woods.

        The other boys walked off saying it was wrong and stuff like that, they took off with the truck and left the blonde, alone. He shook the can and to my worst fear the red ink began to spell out the word ‘sucks’. Rage began to peel across my vision, I began to see red, I never in my life wanted to hurt him, just scare him, all I remember is going for him and cursing at him, then I used the bottle, stabbed him in the stomach and he fell over onto a part of the iron-rod gate, the gate did the killing part, stabbing him through the back of the head and through the mouth, blood seeping out, and down the metal rod to the muddy earth, his blood began to pool there and for some reason, it satisfied me, it made me happy to know that he was dead, now all I had to do was get rid of the body, I picked him up, ripping a bit of his shoulder and caused him to bleed more. I looked for a place to put him, the lake. I rolled his body over to the water and with one final heave, put him into the murky water, watching to my content as his body submerged and sank into the muddy abyss, just like the bottles I threw in there earlier. I looked up, deciding to sit down and watch the sun come up in the distance, taking out my phone I took a picture of it, and absentmindedly, sent it to you.

        Now you know why I am her in this place, where they will ‘fix me’ and I will be sent back to you.   

Reviews

[13.9]

Wow! I have to agree with the previous reviewer, Joseph; I really liked this story. The imagery was great and it definitely piqued my interest. You created a very interesting scene, and the last lines really create an eerie feel. ^^
The only thing I might change around would be the part where you're describing his anger. I felt it came off as a bit mild, particularly considering its result. While I understand his passivity nearing the end of this story, I feel as if he was almost just stating "I was angry" in the earlier parts and describing what the other boys did.
Besides that, though, I truly did find it a fascinating read overall, and would love to hear more. ^^

[A.J.]

Not bad. it's interesting and quite well written, though it's not a short story type of story. There's not enough time to get to know characters and feel their emotions. But you still did a good job in making it short.

[Joe]

This is a really interesting story. Great imagery and description. Great job! Keep it up!