It has litteraly been like two years since I wrote a single word. Somehow the inspiration train found me after all this time and I decided it was worth another chance.
Please remember that English isn't my native tongue and all ideas are my own. Enjoy!
Oliver has been staring at the pile of crumbled paper in the corner of the room for what he feels is forever. Looking at the clock he realizes it has been three hours straight, no wonder his eyes are twitching and his hand feels like a rock. He doesn't understand why such a simple thing for most people can feel like such a challenging task to him. It's not that he doesn't love Laurel, he does, but he just can't put in to words how much, and why and how he decided that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He just knows he does. Isn't that enough? Whoever invented these things called wedding vows can just simply shove it where the sun doesn't shine, according to Oliver. Giving out a loud sigh he walks out the room straight towards the kitchen. Maybe a cold beer will give him the inspiration he needs. Opening up the fridge he realizes he drank the last one last night.
"Great" he mutters under his breath. He knows that without a nice cold beer it won't amount to anything tonight and he'll have the wrath of Laurel to deal with. He can already hear the voice of his fiancée scolding him "Oliver Queen, we're getting married in two weeks and you haven't written a single word of your vows. Are you sure you want this?"
If he wants to prove to Laurel that he's as serious about this as she is he knows there's only one thing left to do. Grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter he drives to the nearest grocery store.
"Hey, Mike. Got to get me some cold ones for inspiration. You got more in the back?" Oliver walks towards the storage without looking at the desk.
"Mike? " Oliver asks again walking back with a six pack in hand. It appears that there's no one behind the desk and that's strange. Oliver has known Mike ever since they moved into this neighborhood and there hasn't been a day that he wasn't behind the desk when the store was open. Taking a peek behind the desk he hears a click behind him "Move and you're dead" the voice says and Oliver's eyes wander to the body lying behind the desk.
"Take all the money you want and walk away. I haven't seen your face. I won't tell anyone" Oliver says without any hesitation in his voice. He has seen way to many movies knowing how this will end.
"You talk way too much for a guy with a gun pointed at him" the voice mutters and he takes the safety of the handle before putting the barrel of the gun into Oliver's back.
Oliver's hands start to tremble and he grips the six pack trying to stay calm "What do you want" he manages to utter.
The barrel burns in his back and it forces him forward "move". They walk towards the door and before he knows it weight is lifted from his back and he turns around quickly and he can still see a flicker of blond hair and red cabriolet speed away before his knees give in and he falls to the pavement.
He doesn't know how he gets home, but somehow he's there and tries with trembling hands to get the keys into the door
"What the hell happened to you?" the voice of Laurel lets him break down and he literally falls into her arms. It takes him ten minutes to catch his breath and tell her about the murder.
"We have to call the police, Oliver. They need to catch the person who did this"
He knows she's right but he can't just put their lives in danger. If they call the police and there will be a broadcast on TV the murderer will instantly know it was him who ratted him out. He was the only person in the grocery store and the only witness to the crime. "Oliver, Mike was like family to me. You know that. We can't just not do anything about this just because it might mean we are in danger. He would've done the exact same thing for us"
Knowing that she is right he calls the local police and tells him everything he knows.
And just as he expected there's a broadcast on the local news that same evening and his heart thumps in his chest when he closes his eyes that night.
It's three in the morning when he wakes up in cold sweat. He turns around almost on instinct and sighs a sign of relief when he sees Laurel lying next to him sleeping peacefully. Somehow his head is full of words right now and he slowly lifts his body out of bed. He situates himself in the rocking chair in the corner of the living room and starts writing. Its two hours later when a sudden stumble wakes him up. His back hurts and it takes him a minute to realize where his and why he ended up here. He looks down at the words written down and he gives himself a mental pat on the back. It finally happened, he found the words. There's another stumble and an all too familiar click that has him trembling on his feet. "NO" he screams. Not tonight, not her, not them. He runs towards the bedroom as fast as his feet will carry him and he literally falls through the door when he hears a single gunshot and sees Laurel fall backwards onto the bed, blood spattering on the walls surrounding her. He freezes and his breath stocks in his throat when the figure turns around and resembles the same person holding him at gunpoint this afternoon. "Just do it" he manages to whisper before he puts up his hands walking towards the man.
There are three shots fired at him directly before he lands on the floor next to the bed. He manages to look up one last time. "I'm sorry, Laurel" he whispers one last time before his eyes close and the world turns black.
Wait, what?Why? How? What's happening here?
Want me to continue this story?
Reviews are love!
Xo Sabine
