My FIRST ever Darryl Character Story! :D
A little insight to this story. This story was dragged, ragged, and roasted so badly when I first wrote it about 20 years ago and I remade the story into what became the other story about Sean becoming a serial killer. ;) Here is the first Darryl story that got remade soon. ;)
Darryl, Sean, Mario, and Julian were all standing on the street corner.
“Slim, I dare you to shoot that guy with this gun, Sean said to Darryl, handing him a pistol handgun. It’s loaded.” Darryl looked at him warily. “You want me to SHOOT him?”
"Yes. It won’t necessarily kill him, Sean said. If you know where to shoot him, he added with a mean smile and a wicked gleam. Darryl looked warily at the gun in his hands.
Mario said, “Come on, shoot him. It’s plain fun. You would do it if you were our friend.”
Darrryl bit his lower lip. He hated the thought of his friends thinking of him as a sell out, but he couldn’t just shoot a guy. Maybe he could in the old days, but nowadays, he just couldn’t. But wait, he could pretend to shoot the guy, and his friends would actually think that he actually shot him.
Hey guys,” Julian said, “Let’s leave him alone.” Darryl breathed a sigh of relief, but he took that sigh of relief right back a few seconds later when Julian said, “Let’s leave him alone so that he can shoot the guy by alone, without us.”
"Good luck, Champ”, Sean said with a sneer. “Bye Slim”, Julian and Mario said, and Sean led them away.
Darryl took the gun and nervously aimed it to the guy’s right, then the guy’s left.
Darryl realized that he just couldn’t do it, not even pretend to shoot the old man. Just then, his fingers accidentally pulled the trigger, and the old man crumpled to the ground, his face in shock.
No! What had he done? That wasn’t supposed to happen! He was now a murderer! He hadn’t meant to do it!
Darryl ran home, took his suitcase, and frantically began repacking his bags. He put in clothes, some money he had left in his old drawers, toiletries, food, his I.D., shoes, and school supplies.
He would just call his mother later and tell her that they had suddenly decided to have his Winter Break for only one day. Now I am thinking of lying, he thought to himself. Oh well. He looked at the clock. It was 6:30! His mom would be here in 30 minutes! He had to leave NOW!
Darryl took his suitcase and quickly scribbled a note that said, “Mom, I was here. I just got a call from Johnson School that said that school is rescheduled for the day after tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow. I am going to a friend’s house tonight. Love ya, Darryl.”
He took a sandwich from the fridge and began to eat it. Is that what murderers eat? A cruel inner voice mocked him. He dropped the sandwich, suddenly losing his appetite. He picked up his suitcase, and picked up his keys, and opened the door. The last person he wanted to see was on the other side. His mother!
"Darryl! I haven’t seen you in ages, she said, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tight.
"Hi mom, he said, giving her a forced smile. Why didn’t he leave sooner? He gave her a hug back. She suddenly noticed his suitcase. She gave him a perplexed look. “Darryl?” Why do you look ready to leave?”
Darryl gulped. “Mom, I am going out. Read this note.” He handed her the note.
"Darryl, why would you need this BIG suitcase for a little sleepover? And why would they only give you one full day of a break?”
Darryl stammered, “I don’t know.”
His mother said, “Come on. Have dinner with me. Talk to me.”
"You want to have dinner with your murderer of a son? He thought guiltily.
"Mom, I’m not hungry” Darryl said aloud. I ate some food already.” He gestured at the half-eaten sandwich.
"Darryl, that sandwich is half-eaten”, she said disapproving. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah mom. I’m okay. He dropped his suitcase and keys.
"Darryl, come on, come eat with me. I have meatloaf and mashed potatoes. It’s on the stove, but just needs to be warmed up a little.” She began to warm up the food.
She escorted him to the table and asked him to sit down. He did. He gulped and gave her another forced smile.
"Darryl, how’s it going? How’s school?”
"It's fine”, he said nervously. He began to blink nervously.
"Darryl, is something wrong?” She asked him, worried.
"No mom” he lied. “I’m fine.” I just killed a guy today he said mentally.
He began to wring his hands nervously.
"Darryl, is something bothering you?”
"No, I’m just nervous about being home,” he said truthfully. After all, he WAS nervous about still being home.
She said, “The food should be ready. Set the table.” He went to the cabinet, took out the plates and cups and silverware and set the table.
She served the food and gave them juice. She sat down and began to eat. Darryl picked up the spoon and mechanically put it through his mashed potatoes. He knew he didn’t want to eat it.
"Darryl, the funniest thing happened today at work. This guy picked up the phone and said, ‘Hi, I’m John. Can you help me’?, instead of “Hi, I’m John. Can I help you?’” she laughed. Darryl smiled a weak smile.
He began to mash the spoon into the mashed potatoes, wearing an uncomfortable smile.
"Darryl, something is bothering you, isn’t it?” she asked/stated.
"Mom, I’m okay”, he said, his stomach hurting.
She gave him a curious look, and then resumed eating. “It’s nice to have you home, Darryl. I’ve missed you.”
"Mom”, he said, his voice cracked with emotion. She stroked his hand, and he almost choked on his guilt.
She ate and Darryl looked at her with wide, scared, and sad eyes. When she caught him looking at her, he quickly put on a bright, fake smile.
"Darryl, are you sure everything’s okay?” She asked him cautiously.
"Yeah, sure”, he said in a too bright, cheery voice.
She said, “Darryl, I’m almost done eating and you haven’t taken one bite yet”, she admonished. “Why don’t you eat?”
He reluctantly put a spoon of mashed potatoes in his mouth. It tasted like cardboard to him. He swallowed, and then took a bite of the meatloaf. It tasted like rubber to him. He swallowed, grimacing.
"Mom”, I really don’t want anymore. I'm really not hungry. " He pushed the plate away.
She looked at him, with concern in her eyes. “You do look a little off.” “Are you sure you’re okay?” She touched his face. “You don’t seem a to have a fever.”
"Mom, I just feel a little tired.”
"I'll put the food and juice inside the refrigerator and you can get ready for bed.”
"Okay, mom.” He was grateful for that. He went to his bedroom, got his nightclothes out, and went to the bathroom and took a warm shower. He washed his hair and got out of the shower. He dried himself off, put on his nightclothes, and brushed his teeth. He went under the covers and put his head on the pillow. He tried to go to sleep, but found it hard to.
Memories of what he’d done to that old man kept playing in his head continuously. He decided to think of happy thoughts, but he kept thinking of the old man. His stomach twisted, and his heart felt as if someone were squeezing it. He finally got to sleep a while later.
