One of my older stories, it's kind of bad but writing is about honesty so there you go
On the bottom of the jar, one lonely olive resided. Jack loved olives to the point of mania. You can't really say he is a gourmand, he does not eat a lot of olives, primarily because he thinks that eating too much of them will make him hate them.The idea of hating olives makes him want to puke. Now he was looking at the aluminium jar and thinking if it still contains his favourite treat.He could have checked but deep down he liked the uncertainty, it thrilled him and engulfed him in a sea of adrenaline .No sounds were reaching him even the one of his father entering the kitchen. As he entered the kitchen he asked Jack
- How was school ?
No answer came, and Jack's father asked again,and then again. It seemed to give no results. His father started getting nervous and shook Jack in an attempt to bring him back to reality. The effort was futile, his son was mesmerized by a presumably empty jar of olives. He tried screaming but Jack could not care less, for him all the efforts of his father were pale echoes, that were put in shadow by the guessing of the content of the jar on the table. His father then opened a drawer and took a wood spoon. He thought that one little hit with it won't do much damage, and will surely wake Jack. As carefully as he could he gently hit Jack in the shoulder. Useless, the pain was felt but no response came. Another hit met the same fate. The same procedure was applied repeatedly, each time with more force as Jack's father started getting impatient. After a while, his dad decided to try something else. He took a metal spoon , and now that he was pissed started hitting without caution. Jack felt the pain as if under a spell, that made him unable to move. His mania did not let go. It was the prison of his own desires. His heart rate increased much he felt poignant waves of pain. Fear was born but then again his mind was emptied and olives took over. At the same time in his dad's head fury was born and was slowly growing. He wanted his son to respond .Deep down a voice was telling him that obedience is the base of family. Jack's dad always liked control, which was why he was such a good manager at his firm. Never before though he seen physical force as a method to solve family related problems. The spoon fell from his hands and now he was using fist, he was actually beating his own son. He felt like he was punishing a criminal.
- Come on talk
- Answer me , how dare you not answer me ?
- You piece of shit
After saying that he knew that there is no coming back, inside he hated his son. that made him search for a weapon, that will bring upon jack more pain, and will teach him a lesson he won't forget soon.Jack had no idea about what his father was thinking. His mind was clear as the surface of a not polluted lake. From having his mind enslaved by olives he went to have nothing inside his head. No fear , no fury , nothing. Parallel to this his was , by his name Bill, had an equivalent of a raging volcano of thoughts. Pulsing rage , sweat on his body, shaky hands that were searching for the instrument of destruction. Bill tore the entire kitchen upside down , just to find a knife. Now on the top of a mountain of broken plates , a pan , bowls , forks, spoons , a bottle opener, pieces of glass that once were glasses and drawers , was Bill with a grin. Without any hurry, he descended to Jack , who did not move an inch and was absent-minded , and still looking at the jar. Bill enjoyed every second because his prey was totally in his hands.
- What are you going to do now ? asked Bill with a voice full of killing intent.Then for a moment , total silence, a fly was somewhere in the room. Sounds of kids playing basketball on the little playground just around the block. After receiving no response Bill snapped , and cut Jack once, then again and again and again. Jack fell to the floor and blood started spilling. Bill continued to cut his son with the knife over and over , at that point he wanted him dead . Before his last breath, Jack Thought to himself : "Some olives would be great now". Bill continued though continued to cut the dead body. Now the kitchen was a bloody mess . After five minutes Bill finally stooped and looked at Jack's corpse. Slowly his rage started going down. His eyes lost that shining of fury. His thoughts were returning to order. The knife slipped from his hand and fell with a sound that Bill could finally hear. Now he saw everything clearly , the mess, the blood , the dead body and one olive that fell from the jar. Tears filled his eyes and he started shouting
- What have I done , no this cant be, no , please god no?
Guilt took over and he bent down and hugged his dead son. Bill tried to reanimate him but Jack already lost too much blood . For half and hour Bill wept, with his son in his hands, his shirt full of Jack's blood. Then he got up with a face that had no feeling. Went up to his room, opened a drawer and took a box out of it. Inside the box was a pistol. Bill took the pistol in his hands that were not shaking now. He pointed the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. The sound of a shot filled the room,and then there was silence.
Three hours later, Mary who was Jack's mother came home. First, she found the body of her son , and then the one of her husband . With tears, she went to the phone and called 911. They answered she barely told them all the details and the address and then she heard only Beep Beep Beep.