A Story That Kills

In a shitty bedroom. The sound of a lighter attempting to be sparked is loud. The scrape of the steel against the wick continues.

Finally, a flame, that burns the front of a cigarette. A deep inhale and exhale. As the smoke travels, it fogs the appearance of a twenty-six-year-old White male. This is Johnathan Schull- an isolated soul.

He's unkept. His hands and face are dirty. There is a bruise on the right side of his middle finger on his left hand, and his cigarette has settled loosely in the indentation.

Out of nowhere, a hand reaches out and snatches the cigarette out of his mouth. The cigarette drops to the trash-covered floor before it is snuffed out. "What did I tell you, hm? Are you trying to kill me with secondhand smoke?"

Johnathan rests his head against the tattered wall, the green wallpaper having stained from the prolonged exposure to cigarettes. He peers up. "I don't care if you die or not... Just leave me alone."

"You and I both know I can't do that, John. We need each other. Now, can we please get back to work?" This is Jason, his identical twin. He is a shitty person.

John grows more unsettled. "It's time for you to leave... I'm not writing that story anymore!”

Blood splatters against the floor as Jason punches him in the face. "I don't remember giving you a choice, bro. So, why do I feel like you’re trying to mess up a good thing?”

John spits blood onto the floor. He struggles to pull another cigarette from the pack. “That story is killing people!”

“Killing who, John?” Jason pops him in the head. “I told you to stop watching the news!… It’s going to affect the story.”

Johnathan scoffs. “The story. My story. Is happening in real life! They were my fucking neighbors! Murdered… Just like the victims in my story.” His fists slams against the wall. “And you want me to believe it’s a coincidence?”

“I want you to quit fucking whining! It’s pathetic.”

Suddenly, the door to the room opens and a slim nineteen-year-old, White female, this is their little sister, Nadine, walks in. “Seriously?”

John cuts his eyes at her. “What did I do now?”

“You’re in here talking to yourself again, Johnny… and I try not to let it bother me, I do— but for the hundredth time, can you please do it quietly?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just do it.” She leaves the room.

Jason is sitting at the desk on the opposite side of the room, holding a nickel .38 Special under his chin. “Well, Johnny boy, I think I’d like to get out the house.”

“I swear you mother—“ The trigger is pulled. Johnathan’s body falls over.

“See that, Johnny… I’m more real than you think.” Spinning in his seat. Nadine has stopped in the hallway and she’s looking back, directly at Jason.

She smiles and waves.

He waves back. “You’ll never get rid of me, Johnny. The story’s just getting started.”