The Bench

A Story by CrumbsInMyBed

The bench was quite inconspicuous with its chipped paint and creaky wood. It practically promised that if you sat on it you could enjoy your brown paper bag lunch and watch the pigeons fight over crumbs without any life altering events but sometimes the unexpected happens in the most ordinary of places.

Just as he did everyday, Jonathan Harper sat on the white chipped bench with it’s rusted metal legs and ate his salami on rye, lettuce and tomato but no condiments; that would cause soggy bread. He’d drop crumbs for the pigeons and he counted as he chewed. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, swallow, bite, one, two, three.

He inspected his shiny, red apple for bruises just as he had done before packing it that morning but you can never be too sure of such things. He rubbed his apple across the chest of his crisp, white button down for that splendid extra shine. But today, something different happened. As he went for his first bite, a car drove by and blew its horn, startling poor Jonathan. His perfectly polished fruit tumbled from his hand to the ground and rolled under his seat.

Miffed with the idea that germs were now feasting upon his daily snack, he leaned over to rescue it from certain bacterial destruction. Little did he know that simple change in his routine would send the rest of his life into a downward spiral for under that insignificant bench a black, plastic bag was lodged in the swirling décor of the metal leg. He sat up straight, forgetting his apple and argued with himself on whether he should inspect it’s contents.

No, sir, this can mean nothing but trouble, just walk away, his sensible mind insisted.

Curiosity, a voice he hadn’t heard in quite some time, chimed in, what’s in the bag? We have to know.

With a deep breath, he bent forward again. He gathered up the apple and removed the mysterious plastic from its hiding place. He tucked the contaminated food into his paper sack then cleansed his hands with sanitizer he kept in his pocket. Satisfied that no remnants of dirt were left, he lifted the black bag and placed his hand in it. Sticky, wet, spongy.

He pulled his hand back in disgust and found himself staring down at a layer of red oozing between his fingers. The sight sickened him and intrigued him all the same. He felt his stomach lurch but his heart was fluttering with joy. A part of him, a part he’d never encountered, wanted to see more.

No, this is enough. We can not get any further involved in this. Put the bag back and walk away, the voice in his mind screamed.

But it was the whisper that caught his attention. The soft purr inside his brain that told him that this was fate and a new and exciting world would be unlocked if he just pulled out what was in that bag. He wanted it. He wanted the new and the exciting; he wanted the thrill. It was a strange sensation but he found himself yearning to satisfy that little whisper.

Wrap your hand around it, Jonathan. Remove it from the bag. We need to know.

So he obliged. He reached in and what he pulled out silenced the rational voice that for so long had authority over his reasoning. The new voice emerged. It was deeper and darker. He felt the chuckle escape his lips before he could stop it. It grew and swelled until it transformed into a maniacal laughter.

He dropped the cold, human heart back into the bag then tossed it into a nearby garbage bin. Licking his fingers one by one, he cackled as he walked through the park in search of a new heart; a fresh one.

© 2016 CrumbsInMyBed

My Review

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Reviews

Voidwvlf

Well, this took a turn I wasn't expecting. I always knew my park benches were up to something, with the way they sat so suspiciously all day, but I never could have imagined it was this sinister. I'll have to keep an eye on them in the future.

This is an excellent concept that is well carried out! I think some punctuation revisions could help this story hold more weight and seem, for lack of a better word, tighter.

For instance, you have a run-on sentence in your first paragraph, and the semicolon in the second paragraph would be better served replaced by an em-dash ( — ). The comma after 'cold' in the last paragraph is unnecessary as well.

Again, I really, really enjoyed reading this. It's original and new, and I love seeing people use words like inconspicuous; it doesn't happen often!

Posted 7 Years Ago

Ana

Very scary that a story about a bench can end up so...scary. Oh, so the last sentence means that he's going to go take out someone else's heart, right?! I liked all the description about everything, even down to the apple.

Posted 7 Years Ago

The Nude Writer

Wow.. Quite wicked :) a good dark story

Posted 7 Years Ago

Shannon

This is a really good concept and you give us a great picture of Jonathan before his encounter. His rigid thought pattern portrayed through the pivotal apple.

I have a few thoughts:
Your description under the title gives too much away. I feel like your first line does, too.
I might try "The bench was plain. Plain with it's creaky wood and chipped paint." the rest of the paragraph really grabs us.

No need to tell us the new voice was "unhinged" you showed us.

The last line could be more creepy and less specific. "....in search of another heart, a fresh one this time".

Sometimes when someone writes such a detailed review, it seems as though they are knocking a piece. I did it here because it's very good and these are my only real suggestions. Well written!