A short story
Once upon a time, there was a boy. He was an ordinary boy, nothing too substantial about him. Then one day, he got hit by a car. He died in the hospital because they couldn't get air in his punctured lung. His family and friends were devastated. They waited years to clean out his room, the memories of his childhood plagued his family. Until one day, they were forced to go in the room and clean it out. They walked in his room, it hadn't been touched since they went in to get clothes for his burial. The room smelled like paint, candles, and their sons aura.
The parents exchanged looks at each other as tears welled up in their eyes. The father nodded in his wife's direction and proceeded to go in his closet. He pulled open the closet doors and things started to fall out. The father jumped and looked to his wife who was crying and laughing at the same time. Their son was a king of practical jokes. Hanging from a rope was a string that had a note attached. It read, Hahaha, Gotcha. Love you guys. Don't get mad at me! They stared at it, smiled and cried silent tears. The mother smiled and remarked that he probably has all these little jokes stashed all around this room. The father laughed, but then took it seriously. As did the mother. They started frantically looking threw all of his belongings, struggling to find at least another small joke. They went through his closet, underneath his bed, through his dresser drawers.
The only thing they hadn't looked in was his nightstand. They didn't even bother to look through it because they figured it would just be a wasted effort. So they descended downstairs carrying his clothes down in hampers. Later on that night, the mother came back in to bring down the remaining belongings. The only two things left in the room were his lamp and his nightstand. The room no longer smelled like her son, she almost felt like crying again. But she swallowed it up because there was nothing she could do. She could just remember her wonderful loving boy, who had a big life ahead of him but was snatched away by fate. She unplugged the lamp and picked up the nightstand with the lamp on top and proceeded to walk out of the room with it. She was walking very slowly but it didn't help that she tripped on the cord which caused her to lose her balance and fell forward. The lamp shattered and the drawer in the nightstand broke out. The mother scraped her knee on the edge of the dresser. She was really shocked about it all and she slowly got to her feet. She couldn't help the broken glass, but thankfully she had shoes on. She walked over the glass and picked up the nightstand. It was lighter without the drawer.
The drawer was laying amongst all the glass, it was tipped over so all the things in the drawer were protected from the glass. She lifted up the drawer to discover nothing in their but a letter. A plain letter. She picked it up, set the nightstand and the drawer down and walked to turn on the light. She stared at the letter and began to rip it open. It was a small little memo note, the mothers smiled thinking he left her something. She unfolded the letter and she could have never guessed this was what it said. "Today is June 3. This will be the day I finally am going to kill myself. I can't fucking stand you all! All your stupid fucking mellow dramatic drama about money and all this bullshit! I've come to this conclusion. Dad had life insurance on me, 500,000. Do you think that will be enough to hold you off for a few months? I hate you dad. You truly have no idea how much I can't fucking stand you. When I was little I thought it was a game for us to play around and wrestle. Until lately when you started fucking hitting me cause I am never going to be what you wanted me to be. Sure the obvious thing would have been for me to just run away. No. That wouldn't make you all realize. You made me what I am today. I'm a malicious, jaded, fucked up individual who is doing the world a favor by ending my pathetic excuse for a life that you made for me. Mom, you're just as bad as him. You never stood up for me, you were just fucking their and sided with him. He broke my nose, you cleaned me up. Do you remember what you said? He did it for you're own good. No he didn't mom. You're a fuck up. You gave him control over you and now he wanted it over me. Well, one good thing out of this is that i'm gonna haunt your fucking asses til the day you join me. Ha. Ha. Ha." The mother dropped the letter, fell down on the glass and started to cry.
DEADLINE: Febuary 8.