Story time.
Well, everyone else was writing stories and posting them in their LJs so here's one by me. Very short.
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"I'm going out now," his wife said as she left the house. Jeffrey knew what that really meant, however. He knew that she was going to be with him again. There wasn't any reason left to hold onto the relationship, and Jeffrey knew that. It would have to end soon. Someday she'd come through that door after going out and tell him it was over, and he didn't know why he bothered lying to himself--why he bothered trying to believe that she was just going out with friends. He had the pictures that P.I. had gotten him. He knew the truth.
A hand reached up to scratch the irritating stubble on his chin, and then a bottle of beer moved up to his mouth. 'Beer... stubble? ...When did I fall so low?' he thought to himself as he sank further in the recliner and his fingers mechanically changed the channel because 'the game' was coming on. 'I never used to drink... or watch these games. What happened to me? ...it's because of her...' at least, that's what he thought to comfort himself, but he knew it wasn't true. He and his wife had been in love once. Deeply in love, or at least they thought. They did everything couples normally did together: danced, talked, ate... fucked. 'God how I miss the sex... and now...' he dismissed the thought before it could complete itself, not only because it was about her with him, but because it confirmed what he already knew. It was his fault.
Jeffrey took another swig of beer and then the memories came, but this time he couldn't stop the truth. He remembered how he used to be athletic, and how he used to play 'the game,' instead of watching it. Jessica was a cheerleader for his highschool team, and she was beautiful. All the men wanted to be with her, but she went out with him, the star player.
Back then he was strong and fast and charming. He was what every girl wanted, just like she was what every man wanted. Their romance was like something out of one of those cheap novels that she would read after they got married--carnal, lustful, beautiful, 'perfect,' but love based on such things couldn't last. At the time he didn't think these thoughts. At the time he didn't think much of anything other than how he was going to win the next game or what new positions they could try. Then they got married.
The marriage was wonderful. It was everything Jessica had dreamed, and Jeffrey was able to bare it. The cake was ok, and the preacher didn't talk for too long. They said their vows, and the doves were released. 'The doves...' The old ex-jock couldn't help but laugh as he remembered how one had gotten caught in his mother's hair as it tried to escape. Everyone had laughed, and everything had been perfect then. They all ate the cake, and Jeffrey played a little bit with all the other men who had been on the team, reliving old victories... and old defeats.
Everything seemed to be starting so well, and they both shrugged off their parents' warnings about marrying their highschool sweetheart, at least until after the honeymoon. That's when it all started to go awry, and, as Jeffrey remembered, he realized that he was the only one to blame. It all started when they got home. Jessica... she wanted to spend some more time with him, but his friends wanted to go drinking, so he went out. And then the next night too... and the night after that... and the night after that. Almost every night he went out and got drunk, and then came home. His boss didn't approve of his coming to work hung over nearly everyday, and so he was fired from his construction job, and Jessica was forced to get a job waitressing. They barely made ends meet, but Jeffrey had fallen into a deep depression. Trying to get a job never even entered his mind. He just sat in that chair and drank. Drank and watched 'the game.'
The TV blared static as white snow scattered over the screen, snapping Jeffrey out of his reverie. It had been hours, and he'd accidently dropped his bottle. The beer was running out onto the floor and there was no way to salvage it. As he stared at the amber fluid pooling by the side of his chair he realized that he'd dropped his life too. He'd dropped it and now all the happiness had run out, leaving him with nothing but an empty bottle.
He didn't bother to shut off the TV. He just picked up the bottle of beer and threw it away before taking his gun and walking outside. The streets were dark, and there was no one to see him. It was already late. Jeffrey stumbled away from the house and down the street. 'This is the last, and only, thing I can do for her now,' he thought as he stumbled into a dark alley, and pressed the gun against his temple. "I'm sorry... It was all my fault... forgive me," Jeffrey confessed to the darkness as he squeezed the trigger.
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Remember when commenting that I wrote this in about ten minutes... give or take five. Other than that, criticism is fine... I just don't feel like repeating that excuse over and over.
---
"I'm going out now," his wife said as she left the house. Jeffrey knew what that really meant, however. He knew that she was going to be with him again. There wasn't any reason left to hold onto the relationship, and Jeffrey knew that. It would have to end soon. Someday she'd come through that door after going out and tell him it was over, and he didn't know why he bothered lying to himself--why he bothered trying to believe that she was just going out with friends. He had the pictures that P.I. had gotten him. He knew the truth.
A hand reached up to scratch the irritating stubble on his chin, and then a bottle of beer moved up to his mouth. 'Beer... stubble? ...When did I fall so low?' he thought to himself as he sank further in the recliner and his fingers mechanically changed the channel because 'the game' was coming on. 'I never used to drink... or watch these games. What happened to me? ...it's because of her...' at least, that's what he thought to comfort himself, but he knew it wasn't true. He and his wife had been in love once. Deeply in love, or at least they thought. They did everything couples normally did together: danced, talked, ate... fucked. 'God how I miss the sex... and now...' he dismissed the thought before it could complete itself, not only because it was about her with him, but because it confirmed what he already knew. It was his fault.
Jeffrey took another swig of beer and then the memories came, but this time he couldn't stop the truth. He remembered how he used to be athletic, and how he used to play 'the game,' instead of watching it. Jessica was a cheerleader for his highschool team, and she was beautiful. All the men wanted to be with her, but she went out with him, the star player.
Back then he was strong and fast and charming. He was what every girl wanted, just like she was what every man wanted. Their romance was like something out of one of those cheap novels that she would read after they got married--carnal, lustful, beautiful, 'perfect,' but love based on such things couldn't last. At the time he didn't think these thoughts. At the time he didn't think much of anything other than how he was going to win the next game or what new positions they could try. Then they got married.
The marriage was wonderful. It was everything Jessica had dreamed, and Jeffrey was able to bare it. The cake was ok, and the preacher didn't talk for too long. They said their vows, and the doves were released. 'The doves...' The old ex-jock couldn't help but laugh as he remembered how one had gotten caught in his mother's hair as it tried to escape. Everyone had laughed, and everything had been perfect then. They all ate the cake, and Jeffrey played a little bit with all the other men who had been on the team, reliving old victories... and old defeats.
Everything seemed to be starting so well, and they both shrugged off their parents' warnings about marrying their highschool sweetheart, at least until after the honeymoon. That's when it all started to go awry, and, as Jeffrey remembered, he realized that he was the only one to blame. It all started when they got home. Jessica... she wanted to spend some more time with him, but his friends wanted to go drinking, so he went out. And then the next night too... and the night after that... and the night after that. Almost every night he went out and got drunk, and then came home. His boss didn't approve of his coming to work hung over nearly everyday, and so he was fired from his construction job, and Jessica was forced to get a job waitressing. They barely made ends meet, but Jeffrey had fallen into a deep depression. Trying to get a job never even entered his mind. He just sat in that chair and drank. Drank and watched 'the game.'
The TV blared static as white snow scattered over the screen, snapping Jeffrey out of his reverie. It had been hours, and he'd accidently dropped his bottle. The beer was running out onto the floor and there was no way to salvage it. As he stared at the amber fluid pooling by the side of his chair he realized that he'd dropped his life too. He'd dropped it and now all the happiness had run out, leaving him with nothing but an empty bottle.
He didn't bother to shut off the TV. He just picked up the bottle of beer and threw it away before taking his gun and walking outside. The streets were dark, and there was no one to see him. It was already late. Jeffrey stumbled away from the house and down the street. 'This is the last, and only, thing I can do for her now,' he thought as he stumbled into a dark alley, and pressed the gun against his temple. "I'm sorry... It was all my fault... forgive me," Jeffrey confessed to the darkness as he squeezed the trigger.
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Remember when commenting that I wrote this in about ten minutes... give or take five. Other than that, criticism is fine... I just don't feel like repeating that excuse over and over.