by Austin G.
This is the first bit of writing I did, about two years ago. Pretty rough.
William Stewart was walking into the lobby of the local Double Pine Cinemas after watching the afternoon showing of The Omen. He thought it was an okay movie, but it definitely wasn’t the greatest movie he’d ever seen. He looked outside and saw that the sun was starting to go down. It was a lovely evening, and William thought it was going to stay that way, up until he went outside. As he was walking to his car, he heard someone yell to him.
“Hey! Give me all your money, now!”
“You heard me, give me your wallet, and your watch, too!”
William tried to fight him, and for a few seconds, he was winning. He had the unknown mugger on the ground and thought the fight was over, and then he felt a sharp pain in his left arm. He kept fighting until another sharp pain arrived, but this time it was in his stomach. He let out a yell then rolled over onto the pavement. The mugger quickly removed William’s wallet and watch, and then ran off. As he lay on the sidewalk bleeding, he heard distant voices calling out to him.
“Hey, come on, hang in there, it’s going to be alright, okay? We’re going to get you some help, just try to stay awake.” said the distant voice.
William tried to stay conscious, but he was quickly slipping away. Everything in front of him was starting to fade away into a bright light. He thought he was going to die right there, but then he saw something, he saw….
A boy, a little boy, around the age of six. He was surrounded by family members and other little kids his age. It looked like it was his birthday party; with a large, homemade cake on a table in the middle of an average-sized living room half-filled with gifts wrapped in brightly colored paper. The adults were mingling with each other while the kids ran around the house playing. In the kitchen was a couple in their early 30s, making lemonade and other drinks for the kids and their parents. The mother was putting ice into a pitcher of tea when her son ran in.
“Mommy! Mommy! Can I open up my presents now?” the little boy asked.
“Now Billy, don’t you want to eat first before you open up your presents?” said the woman.
“Just one present, please?”
“Alright, but just one, tell Grandpa I said you could open one.”
“Alright! Thanks Mom.”
The little boy ran back into the living room toward his grandfather, Ralph, a gray-haired old man in his early 80s who, despite his age, still looked young. He had fought in World War One, and nearly died overseas when he was shot by an enemy soldier. Luckily, the bullet struck a metal plate that he kept in his breast pocket. The shell exploded on contact and a small bit of shrapnel flew into his shoulder. After he came home, he never grew tired of telling that story, along with many others, to his children and grandchildren.
“Hey Grandpa, guess what? Mommy said I can open a present before we eat, can you give me one?”
“Sure, if your mom says it’s ok, then it’s fine with me. Here, you can open this one, it’s from me.”
“Thanks, grandpa” the little boy said. And proceeded to open the gift his grandfather bought him. It was a slingshot, the one thing he had begged his parents for, but never wanted to buy him one for fear of William hurting himself or others. His grandfather had also put a bag of marbles in with the slingshot too, which he was sure William’s mom and dad would just love. Ralph always got a kick out of giving William things his parents really didn’t want him to have, but he loved Will and his parents, and made sure to watch over him and make sure he didn’t get into trouble or hurt himself. Ralph’s watchful eye was the only thing that let him get away with going against his daughter’s and her husband’s wishes.