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Re: I'd Like Some Opinions on My Short Story
Sam was hit with a breath of fresh air that joyously filled his lungs with the cleanest oxygen he’d ever inhaled. The air seemed to make him absolutely sober. But he didn’t feel sober. The astonishing sight that laid before him was a short and evergreen hill, with the healthiest grass ever seen by human eyes. On the north side of that hill, there was a small forest of large trees so thick that they appeared oddly juicy. At the bottom of the west side of the hill was a small pond with water as clear as the filter water we drink. It was filled with large, elegantly colored fish. Defying all logic, on the east side there was a wonderfully glowing horizon in the distance with an unobstructed view. Peeking up at the corner of the sky was a shining sun accompanied by gracious clouds of shade. There was the perfect amount of sunlight throughout the land.
Stumbling in, Sam became astonished as he saw beautiful furry squirrels and rabbits playing down by the forest. The rabbits he’d seen in the city were always flea bitten and rotten creatures, but these rabbits appeared to be groomed to perfection as the light from the clouded and sunny sky reflected off of their backs to produce a gleaming shine. Running up the hill and playfully falling on his side, Sam smiled as he felt comfortable for the first time in months. He glances over at the strange man, who was then grinning from cheek to cheek.
“Wow! This place is great!” Sam professed. After a sigh and a deep inhale, he wondered to the man, “Tell me, fella. What’s your name?”
“Well, funny story. I don’t actually have a name,” the man declared, “but you can keep calling me Fella if you’d like,” he lightly chuckled. Sam wondered to himself why the man would have no name, but he blew it off, as he was sure that the Fella had heard enough inquiries about his lack of a name from other folk. Joining Sam on the ground, the Fella takes a seat next to him in the grass.
Sam wasn’t done asking questions. “So why’d you take me here? You don’t even know me.”
Shrugging, the emboldened powerful man explained, “You looked to be in terrible shape, Sam. I brought you here so that you could learn to be happy.”
Continuing the festivities, the pair of newfound friends explored the alley wonderland. They hiked deep into the woods, observing wildlife that lived peacefully amongst one another with no fear of outside forces taking what they have. Then they sat by the pond to watch the fish glide through the transparent water. At the very end, they lied on the east side of the hill to experience the sun set in the scenery and the silence of nature. Lit by the moonshine, Sam reflected upon himself, feeling the first considerate wave of happiness that he’d felt in months. But he wasn’t completely happy, and the Fella knew it, too.
“So tell me, Sam. What’s keeping you from being content with your life?”
Occupied with contentious thoughts of regret and consideration, Sam lowered his eyes. With his hands shoved into his pockets, he confessed, “Well, I’ve been down lately because I haven’t seen my son in a long time. And because of it, I’ve ended up being a complete asshole to my lovely wife.” He sighed, ashamed and knowing full well what he had to do.
Smiling broadly, the Fella stands to his feet. He points to the forest. Looking towards the forest, Sam spots an old mutt emerging from the trees. Soft, mild brown hair and distinct blue eyes, he recognized the dog immediately. When Sam was a child, his mother bought him a dog. Her name was Lucy, and she was an affectionate little ball of fur. His father, though, was an abusive alcoholic. Every night after working his long hours, he would come home, drink to his hearts content, and become inherently violent with Sam’s mother and sister. One night, in a drunken rage, Sam’s father kicked little Lucy in the neck when she had urinated in the kitchen. She died from a crushed esophagus shortly thereafter. Sam never forgave his father for the way he was. When his father had passed away, Sam buried him under an unmarked grave in a cheap wooden coffin.
The day of Lucy’s death was the day that Sam truly lost his childhood carelessness and joy. He was ten years old.
Tears clouding his eyes, at first he didn’t believe it was her. With a yip full of pep, she ran to him, wagging her little tail as fast as it could go. Leaping on to his chest, she covers his chin with small, rapid licks. He had no doubt in his mind that it was her. It had to be.
Whispering her name to her softly, Sam stroked her coat of smooth fur. He sat contently playing with his dog for a good amount of time, crying all the while. While Sam holds the dog sleeping in his arms, he pets her. Fella approached the two, sitting next to them.
“You know what you need to do, Sam. Your wife loves you and you know she needs you to be strong. You also need to remember Lucy. She was always such a happy girl, and you know that she wants you to be happy, too. So be happy, Sam.” The Fella smiles. “Alright, Lucy. Time for bed.” Awakening from her peaceful slumber, the dog licks her old friend one last time before excitedly bouncing back to the forest.
Sam rises to his feet. “Thank you, Fella. I really needed this. I... I owe you one, bud. Thanks.” Turning to leave, he continued, “I’ve got to go make things right. I’m hoping we’ll be able to see each other more, friend. Maybe even have you meet the wife.”
Fella let out a hearty chuckle, “I’ll see you around, Sam. Remember what you’ve learned here.” Jogging away, Sam ended the meeting with an energetic wave goodbye.
Going out the door and running into the street, the weather was much colder than what it was when the mysterious stranger had led him to the alley. It was as if several days or a week had passed in that few hours. Bouncing on his feet, he enthusiastically made his way down the street towards home. He was about to hop up the stairs, but he hesitated upon sight of the mailboxes. Sitting on top of them were the newspapers that the paper boy had placed for its subscribers. Grabbing one, Sam is immediately alarmed that one month had passed since he’d last set foot in that bar. Where the time went, nobody will ever know.
By now he still withheld that feeling of newborn happiness, but he also felt a bit queasy with suspicion of something most queer occurring. Ignoring it, he started his way up the door, worrying about Eleanor. She’d heard nothing from him for a month, and must have been losing her mind.
Step by step, Sam propelled himself upwards towards the door. He reaches towards the doorknob and upon feeling the static electricity of the knob, stops. Lost in confusion, he didn’t know if he wanted to open the door. Maybe he shouldn’t have. He still did.
Twisting the doorknob, Sam quietly creaked his apartment door open to see the woman he’d married all those years ago loafing on the couch, emotionless. The only hint of a reaction that she had when he walked in the door was a wearing and seemingly painful blinking of the eyes. The silence was so incredibly tense and intimidating, Sam didn’t quite know know how to properly break it. Fortunately for him, he didn’t need to, for Eleanor did it for him as her face twisted sour and tears ran down her cheeks like copious rivers of misery.
Looking him in the eyes, her next words were simple. “Billy is dead.”
The obnoxious silence returns even stronger than before as Sam stops breathing momentarily in shock.
“I’ll see you around, Sam. Remember what you’ve learned here,” the voice echoed in his memory. Gasping, letting a cold hard sob escape his throat, the queasiness only further deepened in the pit of his belly. Rushing to the window and hoisting it open to breathe the comforting air into his crying, wheezing lungs, Sam saw across the street a large shady man in the shadows looking up at him. He couldn’t make out much, but there was a thick, well groomed handlebar mustache barely seen. The room seemed to capsize as Sam emptied the contents of his stomach onto the street below. Collapsing on the floor next to the windowsill, he laid with frustrated eyes wet with the rivers of his own aching, repeating what he heard in his mind.
“You looked to be in terrible shape, Sam. I brought you here so that you could learn to be happy.”
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Originally Posted by Nameless
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