Hi kids, I'm posting a short story entitled Daddy's Dead. It has been published. All I'd like to know is will it make a good story for a short film?
Thaks in advance.
Jerry
Daddy's DeadThaks in advance.
Jerry
Moonlight trickled into the Jamison's upstairs bedroom. Joe lay on his side of the wide bed, his back facing his wife Alicia.
"Joey. Oh Joey. Wake up. I need to talk to you," a man's voice said.
"No," Joe told the voice. "Leave me alone. " Why is he bothering me?
"Come on Joey," the voice said. "I need to talk to you."
"It's too early."
"Aw Joey, it ain't never to early to chat."
"I said, no. Leave me alone." No chance in that.
"Joe, who are you talking to?" Alicia asked without opening her eyes.
"My dad."
"Your daddy is dead."
"I know that, but apparently he doesn't seem to know that."
"Did you take your medication before you went to sleep?"
"Yes, dear." He sat up and swung his legs over the bed and placed his feet on the carpet.
"Getting up so soon?" She couldn't believe her husband would get out of bed before he had to.
"Might as well," Joe rose and stretched, "Can't get back to sleep." He yawned and glanced at the red numbers on the digital clock that was on the bedside table. "I hate beatin' the alarm."
"I know the feeling. Are you going to the gas station to take over Kerry's shift?"
"I might do some writing before I go," Joe said as he ambled to the door. Joe didn't bother to get dressed. Sporting his shorts would be enough for now.
"You going to school today?"
"Nope. School's closed because of that mold problem."
"Oh yeah. I used to wish my school would close."
He stepped out of the room and in a slow pace headed for the stairs.
After selling four novels that became best sellers it wasn't necessary for him to work and he was now retired from the meat-cutting factory. He had purchased the house he and Alicia had lived in since they married ten years ago. But, Joe felt that he had to keep busy so he bought the gas station and general store when they became available and hired his nephew, Kerry to help out. They kept him busy when he wasn't writing.
When he reached the living room Joe noticed the door to his den was ajar. He remembered closing it himself. Alicia respected his privacy and would never enter the room without telling him.
He peeked into his den. Only one light was on in the room. It came from his laptop on the desk.
"Morning Joey," the man's voice said. "Come on in."
"Not now," Joe told the voice with a sigh.
The aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen filled his nostrils and his eyes widened at the sight of the coffee maker. Coffee was pouring into the glass carafe. At first he thought Alicia had gotten up early to go to the bathroom and turned on the coffee pot. Now, he realized she hadn't gotten out of bed.
This is too weird, he thought.
He felt an icy chill as he walked across the tiled floor and took a clean mug from the dish drainer. After filling the mug he took a sip. The hot liquid felt good. His legs were shaky as he walked back to the doorway of his den.
"Come on in Joey," the voice said, "and have a seat."
Joe stepped into he room. The mug shook as he moved closer to the desk.
"Aw, Joey, don't be scared," the voice said as he stopped in front of the desk. "It's only me."
"That's why I'm scared," Joe told the voice. "You're dead or supposed to be."
"If I were really dead I doubt I'd be talking to you."
"How the hell should I know?" He moved to the other side of the desk facing the laptop. The main menu was on the screen.
"Now sit down and don't make me have to tell ya again."
The chair made the move itself and faced him. Coffee spilled on his hand when he jumped away.
"Do it, Joey."
He was too afraid not to obey.
"Now what's so blasted important, Daddy?"
"I've been keeping an eye on ya," the voice said. "See?" A large red eye with a slit pupil appeared on the screen. "Hee hee."
"That wasn't funny."
"Was to me."
"You always had a sick sense of humor."
"At least I'm not boring." His dad always used to make sick jokes.
"So what do you want to talk to me about?" Joe said.
"About my being lonely over here."
"So?"
"So I want you to join me to keep me company."
"No thanks," Joe said. "I'm doing just fine."
"Aw, come on son," the voice said. "Join me. I'm lonely."
"No thanks." Joe told the voice. "Besides it isn't my time."
"Aw, dammit, son," the voice said. "Then I'll make it your time."
"No way."
"I'll do it anyway."
A sharp pain soared through Joe's chest. The mug fell to the floor. Coffee stained the carpet.
He grabbed his left arm and gasped for air.
His heart stopped beating and his head crashed on the laptop's keyboard.
Two skeleton hands appeared on the monitor, reached for Joe's broad shoulders and pulled his lifeless body inside.
The door to the den slammed shut and locked.
"Glad you're here, son," the voice said as the laptop shut down.
The End
"Joey. Oh Joey. Wake up. I need to talk to you," a man's voice said.
"No," Joe told the voice. "Leave me alone. " Why is he bothering me?
"Come on Joey," the voice said. "I need to talk to you."
"It's too early."
"Aw Joey, it ain't never to early to chat."
"I said, no. Leave me alone." No chance in that.
"Joe, who are you talking to?" Alicia asked without opening her eyes.
"My dad."
"Your daddy is dead."
"I know that, but apparently he doesn't seem to know that."
"Did you take your medication before you went to sleep?"
"Yes, dear." He sat up and swung his legs over the bed and placed his feet on the carpet.
"Getting up so soon?" She couldn't believe her husband would get out of bed before he had to.
"Might as well," Joe rose and stretched, "Can't get back to sleep." He yawned and glanced at the red numbers on the digital clock that was on the bedside table. "I hate beatin' the alarm."
"I know the feeling. Are you going to the gas station to take over Kerry's shift?"
"I might do some writing before I go," Joe said as he ambled to the door. Joe didn't bother to get dressed. Sporting his shorts would be enough for now.
"You going to school today?"
"Nope. School's closed because of that mold problem."
"Oh yeah. I used to wish my school would close."
He stepped out of the room and in a slow pace headed for the stairs.
After selling four novels that became best sellers it wasn't necessary for him to work and he was now retired from the meat-cutting factory. He had purchased the house he and Alicia had lived in since they married ten years ago. But, Joe felt that he had to keep busy so he bought the gas station and general store when they became available and hired his nephew, Kerry to help out. They kept him busy when he wasn't writing.
When he reached the living room Joe noticed the door to his den was ajar. He remembered closing it himself. Alicia respected his privacy and would never enter the room without telling him.
He peeked into his den. Only one light was on in the room. It came from his laptop on the desk.
"Morning Joey," the man's voice said. "Come on in."
"Not now," Joe told the voice with a sigh.
The aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen filled his nostrils and his eyes widened at the sight of the coffee maker. Coffee was pouring into the glass carafe. At first he thought Alicia had gotten up early to go to the bathroom and turned on the coffee pot. Now, he realized she hadn't gotten out of bed.
This is too weird, he thought.
He felt an icy chill as he walked across the tiled floor and took a clean mug from the dish drainer. After filling the mug he took a sip. The hot liquid felt good. His legs were shaky as he walked back to the doorway of his den.
"Come on in Joey," the voice said, "and have a seat."
Joe stepped into he room. The mug shook as he moved closer to the desk.
"Aw, Joey, don't be scared," the voice said as he stopped in front of the desk. "It's only me."
"That's why I'm scared," Joe told the voice. "You're dead or supposed to be."
"If I were really dead I doubt I'd be talking to you."
"How the hell should I know?" He moved to the other side of the desk facing the laptop. The main menu was on the screen.
"Now sit down and don't make me have to tell ya again."
The chair made the move itself and faced him. Coffee spilled on his hand when he jumped away.
"Do it, Joey."
He was too afraid not to obey.
"Now what's so blasted important, Daddy?"
"I've been keeping an eye on ya," the voice said. "See?" A large red eye with a slit pupil appeared on the screen. "Hee hee."
"That wasn't funny."
"Was to me."
"You always had a sick sense of humor."
"At least I'm not boring." His dad always used to make sick jokes.
"So what do you want to talk to me about?" Joe said.
"About my being lonely over here."
"So?"
"So I want you to join me to keep me company."
"No thanks," Joe said. "I'm doing just fine."
"Aw, come on son," the voice said. "Join me. I'm lonely."
"No thanks." Joe told the voice. "Besides it isn't my time."
"Aw, dammit, son," the voice said. "Then I'll make it your time."
"No way."
"I'll do it anyway."
A sharp pain soared through Joe's chest. The mug fell to the floor. Coffee stained the carpet.
He grabbed his left arm and gasped for air.
His heart stopped beating and his head crashed on the laptop's keyboard.
Two skeleton hands appeared on the monitor, reached for Joe's broad shoulders and pulled his lifeless body inside.
The door to the den slammed shut and locked.
"Glad you're here, son," the voice said as the laptop shut down.
The End
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