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Remote 

REMOTE

Written By: Darya Amirshahi

    The darkness of the room is brightened up by the drunk manslaughter. The television screen is the only difference between light and pitch black. The screen flickers over a tall, overweight middle-aged man named Douglas hamper, Doug for short, who unnervingly sits on the left side of the living room couch in front of a plasma screen television. Scattered empty beers bottles sit next to him as he peacefully watches the television. Doug rests comfortably on the couch with his ripped pant legs and ketchup-stained shirt. The T.V shows baseball highlights as Doug takes a sip of his cold Corona beer. “Ah that is some good shit,” he says as he chugs the beer bottle and throws It onto the floor. While watching the Television, the channel abruptly changes and Doug gets upset. “Hey! What happened to my f—king baseball!” he says as he immediately throws the bottle of Corna at the TV. The glass shatters the TV causing it to switch off making a loud crash at the sound of impact. He groans as a sudden silence fills the room.

    Doug in struggling fashion gets up from his seat and tries to find the remote for the T.V, barely being able to stand on two feet. He calls, “Molly!? Molly!? Molly where is the remote? Did the little shit take it again? I swear I ought to beat the living crap out of that boy.” Doug waits for a response. He patiently gives up and calls again “Moll- ouch” as a sudden surge of pain hits his right shoulder “Ah goddammit,” he says with agony. He presses tightly onto his shoulder as he walks slowly towards the open stairwell.

     While climbing up  the steps,“ Molly?” he yells, “where are you?” Come to give your honey bun a hug.” Doug starts to whistle merrily to himself while nearing a half opened bedroom, still calling Molly by her name. “Where are you Molly, you bitch!” As he says it, he notices Molly is peacefully sleeping in her bed. The window at the end of the room is wide open with a cold breezes filling the room. Molly remains still on her stomach staring upward as a blanket surrounds her with a pointy object piercing through it. The overlaying of light Is amplified through her face with tears in her eyes. Molly does nothing and simply stares at the sky. Her hands are empty and lifeless while her eyes still drowned in tears. A family photo lays on the table beside her with a gun leaning on a dimly lighted lamp to the left of her. Doug walks a few steps into the room and whispers, “Oh, that is why you weren’t answering! It’s because you were sleeping ha-ha! Look, Molly, I just want to say I am sorry, that you were wrong ha-ha.” He snorts and smiles with the laughter filling the room. As Doug changes direction to the next room the blanket blows away from her body halfway. A knife sticks out of her stomach with blood painting the bed sheets.

    The door to the next room is wide open with the lights turned off. A child’s bed is the only thing visible in the room with a second bed in the corner surrounded by box’s, as Doug walks in. On top of the nearest bed is a clumped sized mountain formed by a few blankets all above a young child like figure. A flashlight beams from the fabric of the blanket. The shadow of Doug fills the room, he starts to stumble on his words as he says, “Hey, Jake! How are you doing buddy!” In a happier tone. No response is given. “Hey, Jake! Let’s play some ball, my son, I’ll show you a thing or two about how to hit a ball, dead center eye. His faces become stale “ Jake, just give me the remote!” A voice responds with stutters and shivers as the flashlight goes out. “I don’t have it,” he says frightfully “What do you mean you don’t have it!?” Doug barks back. As a sudden silence hits the room Doug annoyingly shouts, “Jake, where is the damn remote!” “I don’t know!”  as tears flood down his eyes. “Jake? Why can’t you be like Mike and be a good appreciative son or Molly, you don’t see her mouthing away, do you? Huh?”, Jake starts to cry. “I’m sorry!” he yells. “Listen to me you little-” Doug’s voice cuts out as he collapses on to the floor. Blood trickles from his shoulder and lower leg forming a pool of blood. Everything is silent.

     Jake slowly takes off the covers and stares. As he gets up from the bed he slowly walks towards Doug’s corpses. Jake simply stares at the body with a blank expression. The tears that were trickling down his face had vanished. Jake slowly makes his way out of the bedroom. He slowly walks by Molly’s room and stares from the outside. “Mom?” he shouts not expecting any reply. A tear streams down his eyes as he tries to look away and move toward the staircase. Jake walks downstairs to the living room to see the broken Television. As he stares silently at the TV, he notices the pieces of a broken beer bottle scattered into pieces along the floor. Ounces of glass is everywhere. He turns around to see the remains of the bottle and abruptly stops. In shock, he simply stares In the opposing direction of the Television. On the left side of the couch cushion, where Doug had been sitting, lays a remote and surrounding it, is a coat of blood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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