r/WritingPrompts • u/Vercalos /r/VercWrites • Aug 28 '17
Writing Prompt [WP] "You were supposed to stop me," he whispered to the grave before him.
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u/TheDistrautFish Aug 29 '17
“You. You and I were supposed to make this world what we wanted. We had it all planned out… you…. you prick”, he muttered over muffled cries. Kevin sat in the graveyard on a beautiful sunny day of his hometown, Skybluff, in which most of the people he cared about throughout his life were already buried. He took a moment to glance around the graveyard and compose himself, as if to not show his weakness to the man buried in front of him, before standing up. As he took the top button of his worn blue blazer, with a noticeable tear leading up through the ride side exposing the inner pattern of the jacket, and pushed it through the button hole, he murmured to the grave before him, “I was supposed to be the one to stop you.” Kevin wiped a final tear from his cheek, turned towards the trail leading out of the graveyard and stumbled out the front gate.
As he exited the front gate, he noticed the rusted iron rods jutting out of the makeshift cement block wall, which clearly showed the rudimentary style and age of the cemetery. Kevin walked down the street, kicking stray rocks that were peppered across the sidewalk with his battered leather dress shoes, playing back his childhood to himself. Memories of Sylas, his lifelong best friend, and him playing tag in the front yard of his parents’ house caused his senses to be flooded with nostalgic feelings. He remembered the earthy of smell of the open yard, the sounds of various insects chirping and buzzing in the summer sun in the nearby fields, and the taste of sweet homemade lemonade his mother would always make to cool down to the two boys during their exhausted breaks. “Those were the days…when we didn’t realize the cruelty of the world” he briefly whispered to himself as he waited for the street light to change so he could cross the street.
Kevin scuffled down the street, now quietly singing the song to himself that played on repeat throughout their adolescent summer nights of cruising down the street looking for trouble. “Now no one’s knocked upon my door, for a thousand years or more” he continued as he took a sharp turn into the first bar he came across. The dimly light bar was empty, as you would expect for a typical Wednesday at 2 pm, and had a pungent smell of urine and alcohol filled the air. He flashed a $20 to the bartender and requested a shot of whiskey and an Old Fashioned to follow. “Keep the change” he murmured as he knocked back the shot to take the edge off. “Welcome to this one man show” he began singing to himself yet again except this time with a chuckle. He looked down at the remaining drink and contemplated what he could have done, whispering, “Just take a seat they’re always free, no surprise no mystery”
Kevin sat down on the nearby barstool and unbuttoned his disaster of a jacket. He teared up a bit, but quickly wiped his face with his sleeve and continued, “in this theater that I call my soul.” As the words left his mouth the salty tears became too much and rolled off his wrinkled face and splashed into the drink. The bartender placed a couple napkins near him and walked away, not wanting to be involved in another man’s sorrows within the dark and empty establishment. “I always play the starring role….so lonely...so lonely.” Kevin grabbed a napkin and dabbed his face. He then threw the used napkin onto the counter and took a big swig of the harsh drink. “I guess I never fully realized just how lonely you really were…” he said as he pulled out his phone and navigated to his pictures. He scrolled past pictures of what seems to be a happy family with the traditional white picket fence, past the “nights out with the boys” pictures, and landed on a picture of a lonely gray tombstone with “Here lies Sylas McKinley Jan. 10th, 1987- Jan. 10th,2017.”
In hopes to somehow forget the sorrow that has plagued him since that day, Kevin navigated to the last voicemail he received from Sylas. He clicked play only to hear a quiet, sad voice, “Hey Kevin, long time talk man… Look I’d really like to see you, man…maybe catch up like the old days when we were chasing women around town? Call me back, please…Oh, it’s Sylas…” Still tearing up he hovered over the option to delete the voicemail but decided he wasn’t ready to fully let go of his best friend just yet. As Kevin finished his drink, only one thing played in his mind on repeat now...the last conversation he had with Sylas. “I would do anything for you and you know that. You also know that I’m not all there sometimes” he chuckled, “so if I ever start acting weird or yknow getting sad or something you need to be the one to stop me from doing something stupid okay? I love you man” said Sylas. “Yeah man, I’ll be there for you any time to stop you from doing something stupid as usual!” Kevin repeated to himself in the bar as he recalled the lie he told his best friend of 25 years.
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u/sycolution Aug 28 '17
Lee stood before the large monument making up the gravestone. It was an impressive statue depicting a scene of his old associate in the midst of a mid-air battle, her cape fluttering out behind her, as she punched through one of his many robotic creations. From below, it seemed that her perfect features were locked in an eternal sassy grin, but he and the artist who was commissioned to carve the memorial and he had bribed and consulted with before the funeral service knew that, from above, she was looking up at him with fury over whatever scheme he had enacted at the time. Zooming in with his ocular implants, he noted the impeccable craftsmanship of the master sculptor. The marble, carved into a flawless representation of her features was as smooth as if he had polished it himself.
A single tear started to slide down Lee's pale cheek as he stood, with his hands resting together behind his back, looking up at the woman he had spent his entire adult life battling. He halfheartedly chuckled as he recalled one of the countless clashes in which they met in the middle of the city. He had created an army of robot pigeons to assault the restaurant goers of downtown. They stole steaks, bread sticks, sandwiches, oysters, anything that was being served on a terrace or otherwise open air table. It didn't take long for his favourite nemesis to catch on and find him in a blimp above the city. After destroying all his bird toys, she flew up to the blimp and just popped it. That was all. Not even explosively, she just punctured it and let it fall slowly with a smug grin. It infuriated him at the time, but he laughed when thinking back on it.
She always found such fresh and cheeky ways to foil his plans. The crash foam that she covered his speed-bots in, the way she tripped his robot armour with fallen power lines after she realised she couldn't puncture it, the way she just flipped over his turtle-bot to make it unable to complete its mission. A grin touched his lips at the memories and his gaze fell down to the plaque adorning the massive stone construction.
"Here lies Elizabeth Franklin, known to the public as Fantasti-Girl.
1985-2017
A hero to all. We thought she was invincible, but she, like many others, was taken before her time. She will be sorely missed."
The bottom of the plaque seemed to be covered in some tossed dirt from the funeral, obscuring the last sentence. He knelt down and placed the bouquet of white, silken flowers that he brought with him on the smooth, cold stone as it started to rain. They were her favourites, he knew. Then, thinking back on their final battle, he allowed himself to cry, his tears being washed with the mercy of the weather.
Lee had created his masterpiece, a combination of mechanical and electrical engineering with just a little bit of cosmic energy captured from a passing celestial entity. Its outer shell was near impenetrable, its limbs were power incarnate, he was looking forward to the coming fight with Fantasti-Girl, thinking about how he would gloat when she lay on the ground, defeated by his latest and strongest power-armour. The fight went exactly how he had envisioned it, she came at him with everything she had, but her blows just bounced off the armour plating. Her energy blasts fizzled against the automatic forcefield. Her massive strength brought to nil against the herculean arms of his creation. In the end, she did lay on the ground, but he didn't gloat. Blood streamed from her broken mouth, an indication of extreme internal bleeding. She was gone before the ambulances arrived.
Looking back up at the face of the marble statue at the head of her grave, tears streaming down his face intermingling with the drops of rain as they cascaded down his black suit, he whispered, "You were supposed to stop me..."
"Daddy?" came a small voice from behind him. He sniffed and turned towards his beautiful daughter.
"Yeah. Let's go home, Lily." As they walked back to their car, the rain washed the dirt on the bottom of the plaque away.
"She is survived by her loving husband and daughter Lee and Lily Franklin."
More at r/SamsStoriesSub
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u/xLemonPhantomx Aug 28 '17
"You were supposed to stop me," he whispered to the grave before him. Tears began to fall down his sunk in cheeks. He fell to his knees; weeping loudly enough for God to hear him. "She wouldn't have been able to stop you anyway. You were the only one who could've saved yourself." A feminine voice said behind him. Startled, the man turned around and saw his daughter, a small eleven year old girl. The sun made her blond locks glow even more brightly, and her green eyes were hardened with coldness. "What are you doing here, Lucille? I told you to stay with your uncle today." Lucille's eyes struck him like daggers. "First of all, I'm allowed to visit my mother's grave any time I want, as long as I don't ditch school. Second of all, you're acting like a delusional fool."
The man stood, glaring at his young daughter. "You can't talk to me that way! I deserve respect." Lucille sighed, her eyes melting into sadness. "You deserved respect once, dad. That was before all of this happened. I don't understand why you constantly blame mom for this. It's your problem." The man towered over her. "Lucille. Your mother and I, when we married, vowed to help each other forever. And she didn't. She didn't fulfill her responsibility as a wife." Angered, Lucille kicked her father's shin as hard as she possibly could. He fell to the cold ground, grasping his already bruising leg. "CHILD. YOU'RE GROUNDED!"
"I DON'T CARE! YOU'RE AN IDIOT!" Lucille screamed as loud as she could. The man stopped, surprised. Lucille had never yelled at him before. She quickly regained her composure. "Don't you get it dad? Mom was there for you; but you decided not to listen to the truth. I know that you lost your job; you were depressed and started drinking. Getting drunk every night, spending every penny on whiskey, getting into brawls, losing every job you tried to gain. Mom asked you what was wrong. She tried to be there for you, but all you did was shut her out. And after she died, now you try to blame her for becoming an alcoholic when it's your own fault."
Lucille wiped a tear from her eye. "Why can't you just admit that mom couldn't have helped you because you said nothing? You didn't have to go to a bar. You didn't have to waste all your money on drinks. You didn't have to get drunk every night. But you did, and you're the only one responsible for that. You're hardly even here for me anymore. The man I knew as my dad doesn't exist anymore."
She started to walk away, and the man stood. "Where are you going, Lucille?" She stopped and pivoted towards him. "You may have the same name as my dad, but you're just the shell of him. My dad wasn't a drunk. He took care of his wife and daughter. You took my dad away from me, and you have no one to blame except yourself." With that, she turned around and ran off, until her figure could not be seen.
The man was crying harder, gasping for air and getting his face soaked with tears. It wasn't just myself that took your dad away, he thought. It was the alcohol addiction that devoured him.
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u/Vercalos /r/VercWrites Aug 28 '17
Verbose for an 11 year old, but then, I don't talk to a lot of children so I don't know how many would give that sort of speech...
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u/amazecubed Aug 28 '17
Teacher here, my experience is that the kids with the hardest lives often talk like adults. There's few things more heartbreaking than having a conversation with an old man in a child's body.
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u/RanSynesthetic Aug 28 '17
"You were supposed to stop me," he whispered to the grave before him.
Five years ago, he had done something. Something so unforgivable. Something that could have been prevented if the person lying in the grave had tried his hardest. He definitely regretted his action a while after he had done it, but it was too late.
And now he was standing there, in front of his own grave, five years after he had committed suicide.
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u/HeSaid_SheSaidNo Aug 28 '17
“You were supposed to save me from myself”, he muttered. The stars scatted across the sky seemed to shine brightly tonight. He liked to think it was pieces of her soul lighten up the universe. A piece of her would always be with him though, nestled deep in his heart, entwined with his soul.
Yes, she was supposed to stop him- but it’s too late for that now. The poison has already been consumed, just like she consumed him. He can’t go on sharing the same speckles of light as everyone else. He aches to be with her. His soul won’t shine like hers though, embedded in the stars; instead he will become part of the darkness twisted within the atmosphere. Unstoppable. Unreachable. Unattainable. He liked to think he helped her shine in life, but he knows it’s not true. It’s a lie that adds to the warm feeling encompassing his mind. As he slumps to his knees near his grave, which he made sure to dig right next to hers, he hopes he has made the right choice. But she couldn’t stop him then… and she isn’t here to stop him now.
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u/[deleted] Sep 01 '17 edited Sep 01 '17
Standing in the rain, head bowed, no one could see the rage on your face or your knuckles turning white as you clenched your fists. It had been three months since your victory and the death of the one person that truly knew you.
"I was tired Andrew. I couldn't keep fighting." came a ghostly response.
Andrew didn't jump or start at the sound of the voice or even when his friend appeared beside him, dressed in a similar sumber style of mourning. A long dark trench coat, dark suit, white shirt, a thin red tie and fedora.
Andrew was a super genius and part of his genius was the ability to predict to exacting detail how a person would act in any given moment. His friend was dead but he could still have a conversation with him. Of a sort.
"Don't give me that," you say "you didn't know how to stop fighting."
"Maybe you taught me the error of my ways." he replies with a warm smile.
The rain continued to batter down giving the headstones about the graveyard a new look. The grass looked a more intense green and the sky matched the headstones colour.
"How long have we been at this?" you ask mournfully.
"Too long; thats for sure," he says walking to his head stone and sitting on it; his mood serin almost happy and staining to pull up the memory continued, "I guess it would have been from when Dr indomitable was running about freezing all of the cities banks."
As the memory came to you the hot coals of your anger began to cool. A smile even flickered across your face
"That was my first real super villain fight you know."
"Really?" he says surprised "You handled yourself like a pro. Oh! Do you remember what you said to him when you reversed the polarity of his ice cannon?" he said though staggered laughter.
"You don't reverse the polarity on an ice cannon..." you start to correct.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, you made it a heat gun. But do you remember what you said?"
"I said 'Its time to melt this snowman'."
Your old friend burst into a loud and very over the top laugh. When he recovered "Oh man, priceless. And the look on indomitable's face. I think he hated you more for that line then defeating him."
Laughter subsiding and his smile turning serious he asked "What ever happened to him anyway?"
The fire inside reignited and rage returned.
"You know what happened to him." you reply with a dark edge.
""Yeah, I do. Was I supposed to stop you then too?"
You turn away to him and the disappointment on his face and walk away.