About Me

Since I have been getting a few new visitors here the past few days, I thought I would share a little about myself.  I am 28+ years old.  I work as a computer programmer during the day.  In my spare time I play hockey in the winter and softball in the summer.  I also love to read.  What I have been reading currently is anything by Terry Pratchett, especially the hilarious Discworld novels.  I don’t have any formal writing training other than the required Creative Writing class in college.  I have picked up fiction writing in the past year or so as a hobby and hope to someday finish a novel.  I would like to someday be publishe and get paid for it, but that isn’t my determining factor for success.  I call myself The Struggling Writer because I have a bit of a procrastination problem.  Welcome to my blog.

Short Story Contest – Chapter 5

I have completed my submission for my local newspaper’s collaborative short story contest. We were to write Chapter 5 of the seven part story. A link to Chapter 4 (the previous chapter) is here: Link . In Chapter 4, the two main characters, Scott and Johnny discover that Scott’s brother Sam has been murdered. I have posted my submission below.

Here is my Chapter 5:

Scott pushed the black bag away from him and quickly backpedaled away from his brother’s makeshift grave, eventually tripping over a fallen tree and landing on his back. Suddenly the summer air felt so cold to Scott and he began to feel very much alone.

“Who is it?” asked Johnny, seemingly unable to bring himself to look into the body bag. Hearing Johnny’s voice reminded Scott that at least his good friend was still with him.

“It..it’s Sam,” responded Scott barely able to believe his brother was really dead. Scott would never have the chance to tell his brother how much he looked up to him. He would never truly know the reason Sam arrested Johnny, either.

“Scott, I say you put him back in the ground and leave him here,” said Johnny as he struggled to remove the bear trap from his leg. “Maybe we should get out of here in case whoever did this returns.” While Johnny said this Scott noticed he kept glancing at his watch and looking up the road.

“We can’t just leave him here,” answered Scott his whisper becoming a yell. “He’s still my brother and he should be in a cemetery, not in some hole in the ground in the middle of the woods I’ll never find again. He deserves better than that.”

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” said Johnny as two headlights came bouncing toward them. Whoever was driving the old flare side pickup was in quite a hurry.

The pickup truck stopped inches from the boys and the driver’s side door flew open. A tall man wearing a black hooded sweatshirt stepped out of the truck sizing up the boys. “Why don’t you put that bag in the ground and patch up that hole,” said the man as he pointing a gun at Scott. Though Scott was sure he recognized the voice, he could not remember who it belonged to and was unable to see his assailant’s face with the truck’s blinding headlights in his face.

Scott seemed to hesitate, looking toward Johnny for reassurance. “Start digging,” said the mysterious man as he pointed his shotgun at Scott. Scott began to sob deeply as he poured the dirt back onto Sam’s body. Scott threw the last bit of earth on his brother’s grave and said a little prayer, hoping his brother was in a better place. He also tried desperately to visualize his surroundings in the hope he could some day find his brother again.

“This wasn’t a good move for you Scotty boy,” said the stranger. “We have your prints on the body and now on the shovel used to hide the body. All we have to do now is turn you in. Johnny, why don’t you get some rope out of the back of the truck and tie him up.” Until that moment Scott had been oblivious to the lack of attention the man gave Johnny, but now it was all painfully clear.

“How could you Johnny?” said Scott with tears rolling down his cheeks. “You were my friend.”

Johnny walked over to Scott and began tying his hands behind his back. As Johnny bound Scott’s hands, Scott made sure to hide a little slack from the rope in his palm as he had seen in the movies. Johnny, unaware of Scott’s craftiness continued his work by tying his feet and placing a bandanna in his mouth.

”I’m so sorry Scott. I had to do it,” said Johnny as he climbed into the passenger’s seat of the pickup.

“Just get in the truck Johnny,” interrupted the man as he threw Scott in the bed of the truck. As the truck drove away, Scott fidgeted with his ropes as Johnny wondered what he had done.