Story 12

You should have seen the look on his face; his lips trembled with fear, his face was as white as a ghost. I couldn’t make up my mind what had happened. I glanced over at him – his eyes filled with fear and regret. Not the typical person you’d see at our annual Christmas party. I wondered if I should go over, he seemed nervous and agitated, you would say his mind was out of the world altogether. I could hear people whispering about him from the table behind me, soon after that everybody was quietly whispering to each other about him. I’m sure he knew they were talking about him but he had more things on his mind than worrying about gossips. Little did I know that at the time.

I finally built up the courage to go over and talk to him, as I was on the way over, he noticed me in the corner of his eye coming in his direction. He began to fidget and his hands were shaking like old trees on winter afternoons. I knew I would get the feeling of being unwelcome but all I wanted to know was he alright. But as the saying goes “I got more than I bargained for”. As I got closer to him, I noticed his shoes were muddy and so were the tips of his trousers. His hair was all scruffy and his tie loosened with his shirt pocket ripped out. The tips of his fingers were covered in blood and as I got closer and closer there was blood on his ripped white shirt and all up his left sleeve of his suit jacket.

“This can’t be right” I said.

  I couldn’t turn back now. It was now or never.

I lightly tipped him on the back; he made a sudden jump like he was frightened or scared. I could hear police noises, but I ignored it. I just wanted to know if he was alright.

So I began to speak “hello, nice party isn’t it?” I said.

 He didn’t reply, he just shook his head. The police car noises began to come closer and the man began to bite his bottom lip in order to keep his nerves under control. I glanced into his eyes, they began to fill with tears and when I looked closer at him I knew I had seen him before but I just couldn’t put my finger on where.

Something fell out of his pocket he picked it up quickly, so nobody would notice. I did though, I seen what it was, it was a sharp Stanley knife.

I asked him “what were you doing with that?”

But before I had time to finish my sentence he had burst into tears. He quickly ran into the kitchen and stupidly I followed.

 He repeatly started saying “I didn’t mean to, he just wouldn’t shut up, he kept going on and on until I …”

Then he stopped talking and started crying. I finally came up with the courage to ask him what happened. Well if looks could kill, I was dead. It was like I insulted him, when all I was trying to do was help. He slowly turned around to me and quietly said so nobody would hear even though most of them were drunk from all the alcohol.

Being as quiet as a mouse he began to speak “my father” he said but before he could say anymore.

I realised who he was. He was my boss’s son. That my boss had disowned many years before, I knew I had seen him around.

But before either of us could say a word, the young man had fallen to the floor. Tears were flowing fast down his face. We just sat in silence not a word was said until we heard loud roars of screaming. Soon I could hear everybody running and screaming. I began to see the panic in his eyes, sweat starting to pump down his face; he had no idea what to do. The silence was broken, all you could hear now was loud sirens from police cars and people roaring and shouting, but still the young man didn’t move an inch. I didn’t know what to do, what to say or where to look. So I sat there and began to comfort the young man. I tried to tell him everything would be okay, but I couldn’t bring myself to say those words as I knew, nothing will be ever okay for this young man, his life was ruined.

We began to hear footsteps getting closer and closer. Then a loud bang happened the police had barged in and roughly pulled him up from the ground,  taking his hands and handcuffing them.

The young man turned around one last time and I could see the tears of regret in his eyes.


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