Poor little George was a quiet lad
With one friend he was often sad
Now poor George is a lonely lad
He cut out that friend’s eyes when he got mad.
When I was little my best friend was a kid named Jamal who lived down the street. He disappeared when we were twelve. Even though his family spent months searching everywhere for him, they never thought to check under the floorboards in my room.
I didn’t want to hurt Jamal. But I had to. He had something bad inside him. My friend wasn’t my friend. It just wore his body around like when I pretended to be Iron Man gfor Halloween. Except Iron Man didn’t hurt anybody. Iron Man wasa man inside a machine. It was a shadow inside of Jamal.
The shadow hurt people, except Jamal got blamed for it. Like old Mrs. Dillinger’s cat that ‘disappeared’. It was the same cat Jamal’s mother found in pieces in a box under his bed. Or like when Tina, Jamal’s little sister, ‘fell’ down the stairs. She yelled his name as she tumbled and there he stood just as triumphant at the top of the stairs; still smiling. But it was when Jamal stabbed his dad that I knew I had to help. His dad told everyone what happened.
Jamal looked so scared when the police were questioning him. He wasn’t completely shadow yet. He still had some good in him that would take over sometimes. But It was stronger. They were going to lock him away with the crazies come the next day. So after the cops left I snuck over to Jamal’s house. I was afraid, but it had to be done.
By the time Jamal came outside, my stomach had done all the flips it could and had settled. We walked to my house. I knew my mom was asleep and my dad was still at work. I took Jamal to my dad’s workshop behind our house. I went in first and stepped quickly into the darkness. I knew he wouldn’t be able to see. I knew this workshop better than my dad did. As soon as Jamal stepped into the pitch black of the shed, I slammed the door behind him.
Yeah he cried and begged me to stop. I kept swinging the crowbar until the last little movements.
We were twelve when Jamal disappeared. His family spent months looking everywhere for him, thinking he had run away to escape the crazies. But they never thought to check under the floorboards in my room.
Thanks for reading guys. Its rough as usual. I used 2 short story starters