badluckfairy

May 8, 2011

Like Father like Son?

Filed under: Writing — by badluckfairy @ 22:45

He should never have been there in the first place.  What was he thinking?  That after all these years he would be welcome?

It had all seemed so simple before he’d arrived.  All he had to do was walk up the path and knock on the door.

Yes, that was all he needed to do.  It might take a few minutes but he would be recognised and all the hurt and anguish would melt away.

So here he stood.

Suddenly it didn’t seem as clear cut as he’d thought.  Was he being unfaithful?  Ungrateful?  Did he know what had really happened?

How could someone walk away, just forget, start a new life?

Was that what he himself was going to do today?

No, he’d come so far, questioned too much to just drop the matter and close the door on this idea.

So here he stood.

He would be a Father in a few months, he wasn’t sure if he could fulfil the role that laid ahead of him without having his questions answered first.

He loved Lizzie.  She was one of the only things he was sure about.  He’d been there for every scan, each appointment and even the first kick she had felt.

When they had first met, Lizzie had turned his world upside down.  She calmed him, almost completed him.  Almost but not quite enough.

So here he stood.

His Mother had raised him to the best of her ability.  He loved her, and knew she loved him unconditionally.

But would she understand why he felt he should do this?

Jack felt a jolt from behind him almost push him into starting up the path.  Two steps, three, four nearing the door quickly until he felt himself try to turn back.  But it was too late, he’d reached the door.

He didn’t know that she would have been there and stood next to him had she known.  She’d tried to not let him be swept up in everything that had happened.  Things should have worked out differently, there wasn’t a day that went by when one of them didn’t have this thought.

So here he was, stood at the end of the path.  Hoping his own Father was behind the door he wanted to knock on.  Wondering if it would hurt his Mother if she knew what he was about to do.  Hoping everything would work out.

So here he stood.

Reaching out and pausing to decide whether to ring the doorbell or to knock.

Before he could make his own mind up, the door began to open.  A feeling of terror swept over him.

A slightly shorter, younger, dark haired version of himself stood before him asking him who he was and why he had been stood at the end of the path for over an hour.

Before Jack could answer any of the boy’s questions, he heard a voice from within the house.

‘Jack? Jack? Is, is that you?’.

Instantly he remembered his Father’s voice.

Advertisements

6 Comments »

  1. Your stories always leave me wanting to read more. I always want to know what happens next.

    Comment by Billie Jo Woods — May 8, 2011 @ 23:16 |Reply

  2. When I sit down and write a story, generally the idea has just come to me. I don’t do any kind of planning. I just sit and write until it feels like I have finished writing what I need to write. Just for you, I’m going to try and push forward with this particular story, first chance I get. I know to a certain degree what is going to happen. I’ve had about 440 words of this story saved in my drafts since the May challenge was posted up by Hayley. I didn’t know until tonight when I told myself that I would sit down and finish the challenge that Jack’s half Brother would open the door.
    Let me ponder on it, and I will see what I can do 🙂

    Comment by badluckfairy — May 8, 2011 @ 23:26 |Reply

    • If you continue this story be sure to let me know. I would love to read more.

      Comment by HaleyWhitehall — June 23, 2011 @ 06:21 |Reply

      • Thanks, I will 🙂
        Just deciding on where it’s going to go and hopefully part 6 will be on here soon 🙂

        Comment by badluckfairy — June 27, 2011 @ 23:20

  3. […] by Knot2Share The Machine by Sonia Medeiros For the Love of the Handmaiden by Billie Jo Woods Like Father Like Son? by Rae (badluckfairy) The Choice by Jody Moller Nausea by Jody Moller Sometimes it is Best to Let […]

    Pingback by Body Language can Tell a Story – June Flash Fiction Challenge « Haley is Soldiering through the Writing World   — June 1, 2011 @ 23:33 |Reply

  4. This story touched me. The repetition of “here he stood” added power made me feel for him. You are a great slice of life writer.

    Comment by HaleyWhitehall — June 23, 2011 @ 06:20 |Reply


RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: