Short Story Portfolio

This is some of the short stories that I’ve written for my college course. There are lots more to be added…
An Eye for An Eye 
“So, you’re going back into the real world now. Do you remember what we discussed?”
The psychologist looks across the table at his patient.
“Maybe.”
The psychologist opens a large file.
“Your deceased sister’s husband has placed a restraining against you…so you’re not to go near him or any of his family? Ok?”
“Wait, my sister had a family?”
“I’m serious, you’re not to go near them. Am I clear?”
The prisoner sit there, with his arms crossed. Eventually he nods. He wonders what the real world will be like, after 6 years trapped like an animal. Two hours later, he is a free man. He sits in the bus, knowing he has five hours and five more trains until he get’s to where he wants to be. He opens the paper he was given as he was realised into the wild. The headline is the first thing to catch his eye:
RAPIST REALISED AFTER ONLY A 6 YEAR SENTENCE: WAS IT RIGHT HIM OUT SO SOON?
I hate reading the news. It’s so boring.
“ROXY!”
I stop scrolling through Facebook. Trust Dad to yell up the stairs with a voice like a foghorn. I was lounging across my bed, half naked, until my dad did that. I was avoiding all contact with the boring adults but I just knew this was going to happen sooner or later. You know that feeling when you don’t belong anywhere? You just don’t fit in with anyone around you? That’s what it felt like when Luke left and that’s what it continued to feel like until that night that doorbell rang. Luke had been my best friend, my only friend and someone who know is not missing me as much as I’m missing him.
“ROXY!”
“Jeez. I’m coming.”
I slide into my cleanest pair of jeans and mooch downstairs. I hate being 15. It sucks balls.
“What on earth are you wearing! Go back up and change now!”
I stomp up the stairs, slamming a few doors. I hate it when my dad doe this, it’s excruciating. I slide back into my jeans that are too tight and the one ‘nice top’ that I hate and tie some of my hair into a bun on top of my head and leave the rest of it doing whatever. My dad, uncle Hector, his wife Amy and my step sister Taylor are all sitting around the table. Thank god Dad’s fiancé isn’t here. I mean, she’s alright but I still don’t like her at all. Uncle Hector isn’t actually my uncle but he’s been Dad’s best friend since they were kids so that’s just what I’ve always called him. I’ve never had any aunts or uncles or extended family. Uncle Hector and Aunt Amy were as far as it went. Well, that was until tonight. I go down the hall and stop just before I go into the kitchen .
“Look Hector, I told you it’s nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about? He get’s out today! It’s all over facebook!” Uncle Hector retorts. I hide in the hallway.
“He’s a million miles away! We’ve got nothing to worry about.”
I hear my Dad reply and he shuffles around the kitchen, clanging a few things about.
“We need to take some sort of precaution.” Uncle Hector says.
“Fine, put this by the door.”
I head into the dining room. I hear my dad say:
“I tell you, we’ve got nothing to worry about. What’s the worst that’s going to happen?”
Meanwhile…
I watch as the bus trundles slowly towards the town in the distance. Although it’s been six years, I feel like the world is so futuristic compared to when I got put in. Nothing is familiar. It’s a changed world and it’s going to take me twice as long as I was in Prison to deal get used to this. I check the bit of paper of the address I’m going to. Not much longer. Not much longer till I finish what I started.
Meanwhile:
“So Roxy, are you looking forward to being 15?” Uncle Hector asks, passing down a plate of food. I nod and he keeps talking. ” I mean, I quite enjoyed being 15. So much fun.”
The table goes silent. My dad raises his eyebrows.
“Fun huh?”
I look up.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”Uncle Hector says.
“I wouldn’t say it was nothing.” My dad replies.
Then the doorbell went.
“Roxy, can you get the door?” my dad asked
I run a hand through my bobbed hair and ignored it.
It rings again.
“Roxy, can you get the door?”
It rings again.
“Fine.”
I roll my eyes and make sure I scrape my chair really loudly on the floor tiles. I walk up to the door, as if in slow motion. I remember that moment exactly; the ticking of the clock and the ringing of the doorbell, the smell of air freshener and the taste of freshly cooked lamb which I knew would be going cold on my plate and the pain in my metal knees beginning to get worse with every step. I remember all these things so well because it was a moment that my life changed forever.
“”Who is it?” Dad asks.
“I…I…I don’t know.”
The man looks at me through his thick hipster glasses. He’s in a jumper and chinos and a blazer and his auburn hair had been soaked through by the rain. He has a crazy look in his eyes; neither of them look in the same direction and can’t focus on any one thing they’re looking at. I wonder if he’s drunk and then I begin to panic about what he wants with me.
“How do you not know who I am? Roxy, it’s me, your Uncle!”
“I don’t have an Uncle! Please, you must have got the wrong house.”
“Roxy, how has your father never told you about me?”
I try to shut the door on him.
“Because I don’t have an Uncle!”
I try again to shut the door but he forces his way in.
“If you take a step into this house, I will shriek rape-“
“No, okay-“
He grabs my wrist.
“What’s all this commotion about Roxy?” My dad asks from the table.
“This man wants to come inside but I’m not letting him.”
There’s a scraping of chairs and he says:
“Please Roxy, you have to understand, you really do look just like your mother.”
He reaches a hand to my face and my dad comes barging through and grabs his wrist. In the midst of all this, there’s a gasp and a crash. Uncle Henry’s eyes roll back and he falls backwards, cracking his head off the doorstep. The man who claims he is my uncle is standing with a baseball bat that is now covered in blood splatters. The man looks up at my dad’s shocked face and says:
“Well, he did rape your sister. An eye for an eye eh? Now, where do we hide the body?”
I look down at where Uncle Henry fell and the imprint of his hand still on my wrist.
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