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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1240684
The story of The Great Roger. A terrible past and a fantastic present, for now.
The Great Roger
-by Tom Reese

         He stared at the keys that lay ahead of him. They had seemed to mock him in his deep concentration. They stared at him in silent laughter as he just sat there, staring down into their empty, useless souls. His hands twitched hysterically from left to right, his feet seemed to quiver beneath the foundation of the great piano. As the giant beast loomed below him, Roger sat silently, trying to find just some source of light to bring him back into the world.
         He had been sitting there for four hours, thoughts traveling through his head uncontrollably.  He had never cried once before this. His breath hung low, and his head trembled with each vivid memory. Each memory that chilled his soul turn to ice, and all he could do was sit there and take it like the pitiful man he was. With each new daunting recollection, his body would shudder and he whimpered under his breath. A new tear would dive down on its way past his cheek and hit the floor with a deadly silent splash. He had not moved his gaze at the white and black monster as he heard the fain sound of a closing door broke the silence with a strong bang.

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         “I’m sorry, Roger, but I have some bad news for you. I think you should take a seat.”
         Little, eight year old Roger treaded wonderingly into a chair besides his aunt and stared up into the great big pit of darkness. It chewed gum and smiled devilishly sly.
         “But it seems that your father…um…will not be returning home. It seems he was killed in an aeroplane accident. I’m so sorry for you.” She had said with a sarcastically evil note in the back of her voice. I hated how she said aeroplane instead of airplane like everybody else says it. That evil witch.
         All Roger could do gwas sit there quietly and take in what he was just told. He remembered his father telling him that he was going to war, and that he’ll be home soon and not to worry. And with a smile, he walked out the door forever, leaving his sister to care for Roger. He had only one thing to prove that his father ever existed; an old faded picture of him and Roger in an almost empty family album.
         “I'm going out to eat dinner with some friends of mine. You can make yourself dinner from something in the fridge. Bye now.”

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© Copyright 2007 O'Day-Smith (tom_crona at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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