Last Story

This is from a prompt for the Fictionista contest

photo created by Pennie’s Writing’s

As Joseph sat at his computer, he stared at the blank screen. His thoughts on what he wanted to write danced around in his head. He grabbed his notebook and started to jot down some of his thoughts. But as he wrote down the jumbled mess, he ended up with five full pages. Some of it made sense but needed some order. If I only had a ghost-writer, he thought. Joseph thought for a moment, got up, and grabbed his jacket. Maybe some time out would help this process, he thought.

Shortly after Joseph left, words started to appear on the blank screen. -My Life Before I Died by Joseph Nelson- Life for me was challenging but good. I struggled with editors from time to time but for the most part they understood me. They understood me more than my family ever did. Anyway, with my fifth book published and taking the lead in sales, my publisher didn’t find the need to worry to much about me. I’ve created great books and have made lot’s of money. I have also gained many readers and followers. Followers indeed. Some liked my work and some didn’t.

It all started when I was threatened at a convenient store by this shaggy dark-haired guy. I was minding my own business and getting a sandwich when this guy bumped into me. I told him that I was sorry that I was in his way, but he took offense to it. He gave me an angry look and hit the sandwich out of my hand. As he proceeded up front to the cashier, I watched him as he met up with two other guys. One had a blonde butch-style hair cut and the other was fat and bald. I then opened up the cooler and took out another sandwich to purchase. I waited for the three of them to leave before I went up front to pay.

When I knew that the coast was clear, I picked up the other sandwich off the floor and made my way to the cashier. I handed her the sandwich from the floor and told her to throw it away. I paid for both sandwiches along with a bottle of Mountain Dew. She asked me if I was alright because she saw what happened on the monitor. I told her that it’s all good and that it wasn’t the first time I bumped into someone rude like that. She giggled and said that it probably won’t be the last either.

Little did she know that when I left the convenient store, I ran into that guy again with his buddies. It just so happened that they walked down the ally that I usually take. I heard them laughing and joking around before I reached them. I should have turned around and took another way but I didn’t. After all, I had every right to walk that way too. As I got closer to the men, I kept my head down and walked all the way to the right. But those guys were out to pick on someone and it just happened to be me.

The guy that confronted me in the store walked over and stood in my way. He recognized me right away and not by the books I wrote but from the store. It was doubtful that this low life of a man was much of a reader. If anything, maybe the daily newspaper. He wore a dark blue t-shirt that read, Body Armor, had on torn blue jeans, and dirty white with black Nike’s. He said to me that he was hungry and wanted what was in my bag. I held the bag tight and told him no. His buddies then walked over and stood behind him. Mr. Body Armor then said to me, give me the bag. Again I said no.

Not really believing that these men would rough me up that bad, I stood my ground. I was trembling on the inside but I held onto my bag. Mr. Body Armor nodded his head which obviously was a sign for the one guy to move behind me, which he did. Mr. Body Armor then proceeded to push me into his buddy to where I fell backwards. I still held onto the bag but was now in the arms of the guy behind me. Mr. Body Armor then ripped the bag from my hand and stepped out of the way. His buddies proceeded to beat the life out of me with their fists and feet.

After about ten minutes of assault, the three of them left me there bleeding from my nose and eyes. I was probably bleeding internally as well. I could feel my heart rate slow down and the beats get softer. I knew that my life was ending at that moment. But I wasn’t about to let those men get away with it. This is why I’m writing this story now. I might be dead but whoever finds me and tells the ones who know me will find every detail on this computer. What they look like to a T and maybe even where they live if my ghost is allowed to stay for a while.

Later that evening, a teenage boy did find my body and reported it to the police. The police didn’t have many leads on the three men’s crimes until my friends told them about this story that they found. Because of my detailed descriptions of the men, the police looked into it. They didn’t quite understand how, what they thought, was a pre-written story held so many of the clues. But with those clues it led them to the arrests. It just goes to show that a ghost-writer’s job is just as important as the creators themselves.

The End

I hope that you all enjoyed this story. Please let me know in the comments, Thank you.