Consequences of Anger

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Hello all, I've decided to get your opinion on this next English assignment, a short, *very short, almost too short* story. I got 98% on it, but, I'd still like your opinion. Okay? Be critical!


‘Why can’t you be more like your brother?!’ Darren’s mother screamed, ’You are like a stain on our family’s history!’
Darren rolled his lip and chewed it. The rage started to boil up inside him like a tea kettle. He calmly pushed his long, brown bangs out of his eyes and sighed.
‘I can’t be like him, because I’m not him!’ Darren screamed back, the tone of his voice raising slowly, ‘Why can’t you just accept me for me?! I can’t just be Mark! Besides, it was only an eighty! A lot of people can hardly get an eighty!’
‘I don’t even know why we let you live here!’
‘I don’t even know why I stay!’
‘Get out! GET OUT!’ Darren’s mother screamed, pushing him out of the bedroom and into the hall. She slammed the door before he could retort, and he just stood there. He ground his teeth together, and squeezed his hands until his knuckles were white. Letting his taut nerves relax, he stalked over to the bathroom and slammed the door as he entered.
He stared hard at himself in the mirror as he let the water run. It was only an eighty, he thought, Why is she so mad this time? It’s only a one time thing anyway, I always get higher. She needs to settle down. He turned the tap off and splashed some water on his face. The cool liquid seem to calm him for a moment, and then he smiled. I hope I crack one of these days. I really do. He shook his head and sighed. Darren quietly cracked the door open and slipped back into the hall. He walked into his room and plopped down on his bed, face-down, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Time to get up, Darren!” His father yelled from the kitchen. Darren reluctantly opened his eyes to the morning light. He propped himself up on his bed with his arms and swung his legs over the side of the bed. I have to face her, He thought as he pulled on some clothes that were lying on his dresser. As he exited his room, the awakening smells of breakfast filled his nostrils. He inhaled strongly and tried to crack a smile. It didn’t work.
His mother gave a quick glance at Darren as he entered the kitchen, quickly looking away as their eyes met. Darren’s father looked desperately back and forth between the both of them as Darren got himself some toast and bacon.
“Well, this is nice and comfortable,” he pauses, “Dear, where’s Mark?”
“ He’s studying for his exams. At the library. Something you would know nothing about, Darren.” She stole a cold glance at Darren. Darren gave her a smirk and rolled his eyes. His father put a hand on his temple.
“Darren, Alex called. Wants you to go play street hockey later on.”
“ ‘Kay.”
Darren looked at his mother for a moment, then silently stormed up to his room. When he got up to his room he grabbed his hockey gear quickly., not wanting to ‘disturb’ his mother any longer. He threw his blankets over his bed, so it looked like he made it. He flew out of his room and down the stairs, waving to his father goodbye. Out the door, he welcomed the fresh air. Darren jogged down the street to where Alex and their friends were setting up the hockey nets.
“Ah, Darren! Ya made it!” He laughed, “I call Darren!”
The boys divided into team, having some good laughs as Darren made jokes. When they were all settled, Darren dropped the ball for them to start. As soon as he had ran back and picked up his stick, the ball was passed to him. He smiled and ran down the road, outrunning the others in his attempt to score. He shot at the net and it hit the bar, and everyone started to laugh. He smiled and went on with the game, less involved this time, as he was preoccupied. The game slowed down when he wasn’t trying, but when he started checking, it was like a new trend in a room of socialites. Soon, everyone started checking, and people were bleeding and bruised, but all in good fun, right? The game soon became intense, and the others were being pushed down with more force.
Then, a boy that was newer to the neighbourhood, named Jake, came and tried to check Darren, which people didn’t often do, since he was a few sizes bigger than them, and made of mostly muscle. Darren was knocked down, surprised, and just sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. The world seemed to go in slow motion as he looked up at the kid, whose face turned white in the presence of Darren’s glare. Darren gave an eerie smile that only seemed to comfort him, and stood up. He heard someone off in the distance, “Are you okay, Darren?”, and he replied with a nod. The kids laughed uneasily and turned to go back to their game. Darren drilled the back of Jake’s head with his glare, and gripped his hockey stick in his already white hands.
And then he did it. He released all of his anger and rage in one single swing of his stick. Darren let out a small laugh as the stick cracked and shattered on Jake’s neck, his hands rushing to the wound. As Jake fell and the others crowded him, Darren smiled. Someone pushed him down again in their attempts to help Jake. This seemed to knock some sense into him, and his eyes widened in horror as he realized what he had done.
“No, no, NO! I .. I.. I didn’t!!” Darren yelled at no one in particular, besides himself. He jumped and stumbled backwards, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned and ran, as fast as he could, through brambles, bushes, yards, jumping over fences, anything that got in his way. Darren ran for hours until he found a small bridge he could hide under. By now it was dark, and he was exhausted, so he fell asleep once he had made himself comfortable.
He awoke, and blinked his eyes several times, realizing that he must have cried during the night, for his eyes were glazed over. He thought about what he had done, and started to cry again. He quickly stopped, and reassured himself that it was all his mother’s fault. Darren sat there thinking for what seemed like a week, but in reality was only a few hours.
“I.. I can’t g-go on.. I have t-to f-finish this. She has to st-stop. She d-doesn’t d-deserve..” He trailed off into gibberish, and slowly started to rock back and forth, angrily yelling every few seconds. Suddenly he bolted towards home, faster than last time. He jumped onto the shed roof from the oak tree, and climbed into his mother and father’s window. He started to breathe heavily and searched his father’s drawers. I found it. Darren grabbed the item and ran down the stairs to where his mother was folding laundry.
“Darren! Where have you been! The police are--”
“Shut up, mom.” He raised the item to eye level. He cocked the gun and bit his lip. “You’ve tortured me long enough.”
“Darren, y-you’re delusional. J-just put the g-gun down and we’ll talk.”
“It won’t matter, mom. They’re out for me. I killed that kid. I’m a felon.”
“No, Darren, he’s not dead! He’s in the hospital and he’s expected to make a--”
“SHUT UP, MOM! I don’t care anymore. This needs to--”
BANG. The door burst open and in came the police. No, no no!! Darren screamed in his head. Darren accidentally turned towards the police with arm extended, and gun cocked...
BANG. Darren fell, lifeless to the ground, eyes still open, as the police rushed in around him. Before his eyes closed, his mother screamed and grabbed his body, and he felt her tear hit his face as the world faded to black.

 

Very Powerful and well written.

 

As Keanu would say:

Whoa.

Emotional stuff, and writen with talent.


1 thing I'll point out- there's a little slip there where you say 'I found it', rather than 'Darren found it'.

I slip sometimes when I get emotional when writing, is that what happened?

 

Oh, no, its the word processor. I just copied and pasted from WordPerfect, so the italics and bolds didn't show up. That part was supposed to be in thought. Also, the paragraphs were in there, but when it pasted, it messed so, meh. Thanks you two!

 

A good job indeed. Short stories are always a challenge.

 

Crap, absolute crap.

No, seriously though, WONDERFUL!!! Powerful!