T. A. Chase

Wednesday’s Work in Progress….

Since I’m working on Saint Petersburg, the last of my Fallen books, I thought I’d share a snippet of a story that is on my list to write, but hasn’t been claimed by a publisher yet. It’ll sit there until I decide which one to give it to, then I’ll move it up the list. 🙂

Guilt’s Not So Loud copyright c. 2014 T.A. Chase (I’ll be changing the name of one of the characters obviously…lol)

Excerpt:

People were watching him. He knew it, but couldn’t bring himself to care. All he thought about was how to get his drunk ass up the front steps of his house and inside without losing all the contents of his stomach. Of course, it didn’t really matter because as soon as he went inside, he’d throw up anyway. He saw that as a sign that he needed more to drink.

His head dropped forward and he ignored the tears dripping from his cheeks.  Nothing mattered any more. He didn’t understand why he kept getting up in the morning. He should just stay in bed until he died. It was fitting after what he’d done. No one would miss him. He didn’t have any friends. They had all been Melissa’s and with her gone, none of them came around to see him.

“All right, Gerry. Let’s get you inside.”

Looking up, he blinked his blurry eyes to see Burke, one of his neighbors, standing next to him.

“Why?” Gerry’s laugh grated out of him. “Don’t want the neighborhood looking bad with the drunk in the front yard.”

“You’re scaring the women and children, man.”

Burke crouched next to him, and rested his hand on Gerry’s shoulder. Gerry snorted and wiped his face.

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore. They’re gone, Burke, and I can’t get them back.”

“I know, Gerry, but you have to get a grip. All this drinking is just killing you.”

“Maybe that’s what I want. Maybe I want to die too.” He stared down at his shaking hands. “Maybe it’s my punishment.”

“Punishment for what? You weren’t driving the car that killed them. Heck, you weren’t even there when they died.”

Gerry winced, not wanting to remember the night Melissa and Rudy, their little boy, died. “I should’ve been, but Melissa and me had a fight. She was going to her mother’s for the night. It’s my punishment for not loving her enough.”

He whispered the last part, sort of hoping Burke didn’t hear it. It was the first time he voiced his thoughts out loud for the outside world to hear. He doubted anyone would understand what he meant. They would offer platitudes and patronize him, but he knew what he knew. And it was that he hadn’t loved Melissa enough to keep her safe.

But Christ, he would have done anything, even died, for his son, and that was the guilt eating him alive every night. It wasn’t Melissa he was mourning, it was Rudy.

 “Maybe you’re right. Maybe your family’s death is God’s way of punishing you for not loving them enough, but I’m not sure that’s true. I don’t know much about God. He might be a vindictive bastard.”

Again, Gerry blinked at Burke, trying to make sense of what the man was saying.

“Come on. You need to get inside and to the nearest bathroom before you empty the contents of your stomach. I’m not going to be the one cleaning that shit up.”

Wednesday, March 19th, 2014, by and is filed under "Demon Woods, Excerpts, Guilt's Not So Loud, Wednesday WiPs ". You can leave a response here, or send a Trackback from your own site.