Doridy Derwood’s Misfortune

Doridy Derwood’s Misfortune

A Story by West Coast

Nothing in this girls world is what she thinks


Doridy had been living alone for quite some time. She had not been visited by anyone, she had not received any letters, and her parents hadn’t called in the longest time. All of this felt strange to Doridy. For such a popular girl, someone must miss her. She picked up the rotary phone and twirled around her small living room. The line was dead.

“That’s odd.” She said, “Maybe my phones broken.” She followed the cord to the wall. It was plugged in. She stepped outside and looked at the telephone pole in her back yard. It was still standing; the wire was connected to her house. “Peculiar!” The wind didn’t blow, the birds didn’t chirp, the sky was a hazy orangey-gray. She was so absorbed in her own little world; she hadn’t even noticed these things.

She twirled her flowery dress and stepped back into the house. She danced to the fridge. All this twirling had made her thirsty. Yet there was no milk to quench her thirst. She opened the front door; maybe the milkman had made his delivery. Sure enough, sitting on her porch was three crates of milk, two of the crates where empty and two bottles were missing from one.

 “That buffoon, my delivery is two bottles short.” She took one and uncorked the bottle, releasing a horrid stench into the room. “The milks gone sour!” She shrieked as she emptied the curdled, putrid smelling sludge into the sink, and tossed it in the waste bin where it clinked against more glass. Doridy looked in the bin; there were multiple milk bottles in it. “Shall I make you some tea?” She asked to no one. She brought the pot to boil and poured two cups, setting one on the coffee table. “Drink up or it will get cold!” She sipped her tea, humming an eerie tune; she couldn’t remember where she had heard it.

A strange feeling came over her. She stepped over to the window and lifted the blinds. She looked out over her yard, but at the fence the land seemed to end.

She ran through the dead grass. She looked over the edge, down into the massive crater that surrounded her house on all sides. The land was just barely visible in the distance. She sunk down in the brown grass, she began pulling it up in handfuls. Laughing crazily too herself. She ran her fingers through her hairspray formed hair, ruining its shape.

Little did she know, Doridy had done the exact same things the day before and she did the same things the day before that. Her daily routines had gone unchanged for the past two months. The bomb had landed, destroying everything around her, but leaving her house intact. She had been alone for so long, she had begun to slip into madness. Talking to herself, making up company, some of the furniture in her house had been destroyed in her fits of madness and rage. She crawled back to her porch, where she sat with a stone, scratching lines in one of the beams. She only carved one word. ALONE.

© 2012 West Coast

Author's Note

West Coast
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Added on July 1, 2012
Last Updated on July 1, 2012
Tags: Crazy, the 60's, twist


West Coast
West Coast

San Francisco, CA

I'm a teen writer. I love writing, let it be fiction, science fiction, adventure, romance, tragedy. I'm also a movie junky (that is why my picture is from Moonrise Kingdom) more..

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