The Son
The Son
He lay silent on the floor, curled up with his knees to his chest. The sun lightly touching the cold wooden floor, but he knew the time was coming. He could hear the heavy footsteps on the stairs below. They were clearly meant for him. He could sense the anger in the thuds and creaks. He shut his eyes tight again, so tight he could see the red and white circles on the black background of his eyelids.
The wooden door slammed open, hit the wall hard, and flew back. It halted at Luke’s father’s hand.
“Git up,” came his father’s gruff voice.
Luke stirred, but not fast enough for his father’s patience. He felt the fingernails dig into his back as he was pulled to his feet. When enough blood was drawn from his flesh, his father pushed him against the wall to make sure he was not going to be able to fall asleep again.
curse, dark, disease, disgust, father, fear, grotesque, help, horror, house, monster, murder, sheriff, short, short story, son, story, the son
