A couple of weeks ago in English class I was assigned to write a short story, starting from a paragraph I was given by my teacher. Today I will share what I came up with. Enjoy! :)
At first Laura couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who in happier times once said he loved it. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much, her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.
Laura plucked a bag of green tea out of the cupboard and set it on the counter. She waited for the teapot to start screeching as she glanced out the window. Against her will, her stubborn mind drifted back to thoughts of Carl. At first, he had seemed so sweet and carefree. Was she really so bad a judge of character that she could not see through that facade?
There was no better feeling than the elation that had swept through Laura when she heard of his death.
But was it really true?
She hadn’t seen his dead body, and until then, she wasn’t safe. As always, things with Carl were not what they appeared.
The teapot let out a hissing screech, jolting Laura from her morbid thoughts. This tea was supposed to relax her, not get her into more of a fret than she had been in before. She prepared her tea, then moved to the living room to sit in the rocking chair. There was no way she would ever sit in the leather recliner across from her. No, that had been Carl’s favorite. Here she was thinking about him again. Maybe she needed to throw of him.
Her heart sank. That would mean throwing away everything.
Something soft and furry landed on her lap. Laura let out a strangled yelp and almost spilled her mug of tea. She took a deep breath when she realized it was only Tesla, her tabby cat.
The feline rubbed his head against Laura’s hand and meowed. He settled on her lap. Laura couldn’t help but grin at her sweet cat. At least someone liked her.
A rumble emanated from the sky. Thunder. Great.
Carl loved thunderstorms.
Laura hated them.
The phone rang. With a groan, Laura rose and picked it up. Carl’s number. Laura’s heart jumped into her throat.
He was dead. Who on earth had his phone?
Laura tried to breath, but her asthma was kicking up again. She struggled to take a breath. Tears ran down her face as she threw the phone down to the ground, not caring if it shattered into a million pieces. Just as she reached for her inhaler, she finally got a good-sized breath in. After a couple of seconds, she sipped her tea.
Surely Carl was not alive anymore. There had to be some explanation for his phone calling her.
Laura opened up her book and tried to read, but her eyes could not focus on the words. With a sigh, she set the volume down and closed her eyes. Perhaps a nap would help to calm her frayed nerves, since the tea was obviously not working. She curled up in her chair, and pulled a throw over her shoulders to ward off the constant chill she had felt ever since Carl had changed.
Just as she began to doze off, her phone started to buzz again. Fear rushed through her and her heart stopped when she saw the number. Carl. Again.
Laura inhaled deeply, like she had been underwater for years, and picked up the phone. If she didn’t answer it now, then she would never know what was going on. She squeezed her eyes shut and hit answer.
“Yes, hello, is this Miss Laura Kincaid?”
A female voice.
Not Carl. Laura could breath again, if only for a moment. “Yes, this is Laura Kincaid. May I ask who is calling?”
“Well, you probably know me as Mrs. Bell, Carl’s mother. I know you were close to him, so I thought it should be me to tell you the news. I had no way to contact you but to use my son’s phone. I-I … I have to tell you that I visited the hospital this afternoon and identified his body. I’m sorry to tell you, but Carl is dead.” The woman broke into tears.
Laura almost shouted in relief.
“I’ll come visit you, Mrs. Bell. Stay where you are.”
Laura gulped in a deep breath.
He was dead. He would not be bothering her ever again. She was free.
Did you enjoy it? I was given the first paragraph, and I had to create something from there.
If you have any ideas for a title for this piece of writing, I would appreciate it. Please tell me in the comments! Thanks. :)