Storyteller question part 3?

April 22nd, 2011

Chapter Three

The next day in school, we held hands to each class. Not even a crane could destroy our love. School work seemed useless, because Sara was the only thing on my mind. I caught up with David during lunch.

“You introduced me to the love of my life.” I said.
“Did you fuck her?”

David gave me a high five.


It was Christmas. I was twenty-five and she was twenty-four. I dropped the engagement ring in her stocking. I ran over to the CD player and played “More Than a Woman” by Bee-Gees. She walked outside our bedroom, wearing a beautiful set of lingerie.

“Merry Christmas.” I said.
“You too baby.” Sara said. She kissed me.

She was looking at the glittering Christmas tree and at all the presents. Sara also noticed a piece of paper:

“Sara, I love you. Check your stocking.” – Rob

She slowly stepped over to her stocking- to find the ring. She screamed at the top of her lunchs and jumped.

“What is it?” I smiled.
“It’s a ring!!” She hopped into my arms.
“I’ll be the future Mrs. Hartwood!”
“Yep. My blushing, beautiful bride!”

She whispered,
“Let’s make a baby.”

I looked into her eyes and her eyes were wet from tears.

“Of course.” I smiled.

“Born to Run” began to play as I carried her to the bed. It’s weird, this time feels so much different- different from that Saturday night. After we made love, we kissed…..

“Mr. Hartwood would like to say a few words…”

The wedding was beautiful. Our daughter, Mary, sat in a pew with my mother. David was my best man. Our wedding song was the song that played when I proposed….

“Rob, you shouldn’t drink right now.” David said. I was drunk…


Sara, Mary, and I were driving to a family picnic. Mary was two, I was twenty seven, and Sara was twenty six. As we drove, I gave Mary her bottle, and a kiss for Sara. I smiled.

“OH CHRIST!!!” Sara screamed. Another car was charging at us head-on. We crashed.

When I woke up, the car was upside-down. Sara and Mary were dead…

Chapter Four

It was Sara and Mary’s funeral. I was in shock- tears pouring out of my eyes in a black suit.

“Let us pray for the dearly departed.” The priest said.
“Mr. Hartwood would like to say a few words.”

I got up and stepped over to their caskets.

“My wife Sara and my daughter have died. They now reside in Heaven. .I believe that both of them were actual angels- personally sent by God. I met my wife when I was fifteen. They were my life; my soul. Now that they’re gone, I have no soul. I cannot live properly or not at all. Thank you.”

I walked over to the bar.

“Eight shots of Everclear please.”

David walked up to me.

“I don’t think you should be drinking right now Rob.”

I drank all of them without stopping.

“One more please.” I slurred.

I took the last shot into our car and turned it on. “Imagine” played. I toasted to Sara and Mary and floored it out of there- and I drove straight into traffic.


4 Responses to “Storyteller question part 3?”

  1. aperson says:

    It feels like i’m reading a list. Like, a summary of events. Its awkward. Also, that dialogue is so CHEEZY. I actually cringed when i read “let’s make a baby.”

  2. Say What?? says:

    It is not getting any better. I can assure you of that.

  3. Wesley B says:

    The idea is fine, but the execution needs work. Some of it is downright unbelievable. For example, no bartender in the country would pour a man, by himself no less, eight shots of everclear at once, not let him drink them all so fast, not pour a ninth shot, nor allow the man to take the shot out of the bar. Bartenders can (and are) held legally responsible in all fifty states if they knowingly overserve a customer and eight shots is definitely overserving. That’s like a straight ticket to prison for the bartender, so none in their right mind would do such a thing.

  4. Andy says:

    all of these stories are just a joke right?

    i refuse to believe that you’re actually serious about the stuff you’ve posted…there’s just no way.

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