October 13, 2011
By shy-writer GOLD, Spotsylvania, Virginia
shy-writer GOLD, Spotsylvania, Virginia
12 articles 0 photos 21 comments

Favorite Quote:
"We're young. We don't need, a boy to love, hold, kiss. We won't always be able to relax and be kids, but we'll always be able to love. So I'm going to get out there and liven up this world, leave my mark, make a difference." -Anonymous

The water was surprisingly calm, barely moving in the river behind Cindy’s rural cabin. She was standing there, the boy next to her as they looked out on the calm river, her head resting carelessly on his shoulders. The trees swayed back and forth behind them, sweating off leaves in the cool autumn air. Cindy thought of the place as quite dreary, the only noise other than the rustling leaves were the whispers of ghosts that lay under her feet. A shiver ran down her spine.
“Are you okay,” the boy asked, in a sort of low growl. She loved his voice. It was so deep, so many levels to it. She looked up at him, smoky-eyed. He was too busy watching trout swim down the stream being chased by a larger, hungrier fish to notice. It looked more of the catfish brand from the surface.
“Yeah,” she said, “I’m just glad we get to be together.” A sort of crack came surfacing in her voice, making her long brown haired boyfriend turn to her, a concerning look crossing his face.
“No you’re not,” he said, grabbing her gently by the arms. His dark brown, almost black eyes looked deep into her soul. “You know, you should be glad about what we did. They were only a nuisance anyway.”
She looked down at her feet, holding back tears. How could she pretend she wasn’t upset about this? She knew it had to happen, but she just wasn’t ready. She loved her boy more than anything. She’d do anything for him, but this? She just didn’t know.
“I don’t know Devin, you’re right. I hated them, more than I love you. But doesn’t this mean we’re going to hell?”
He didn’t answer her question, but instead smiled a loose smile and slowly started taking off his shoes. He rolled up his pants and without a sound waded into the brown, dirt filled river.
“What are you doing?” She asked, as she started taking off her sandals without thinking, “It’s freezing in there! It’s almost Winter!”
“C’mon,” he shouted, flapping his pale arms like a bird splashing, “It’s only cold if you let it! Besides, it only goes up to your thighs, I swear!”
She rolled her eyes and hopped in. She needed fun. Especially after all he put her through.
Her lower half of her body suddenly turned numb as she felt like she was diving into a pit of ice cubes. The cold stabbed at her as she tried to move, her pants hugging lifelessly to her leg. She slowly but surely moved to her boyfriend, the sand and sticks sloshed underneath her feat.
“I thought you said it wasn’t cold,” she accused as she fell into his arms from the weight of the water.
“I said it was only cold if you let it,” he replied, laughing gleefully, “I never said it wasn’t cold!”
She smiled. God, she loved that boy. He made her do stupid, merciless things, but she didn’t care. The only thing she wanted was him. It was almost as if he had a spell, some odd enchantment on her. She thought that spell was love. Wasn’t it?
Suddenly she had a striking urge to kiss him. She looked up at his handsome face, his dark eyes smiling at her, urging her forward. Then, wrapping her now wrinkly fingers around the back of his head, she leaned in and placed her lips against his.
But there was something wrong. As soon as she let go she could feel her legs being swept up underneath her. An invisible force started to pull her away from her handsome boy, leading her downstream. It took her breath away, made her stunned, frozen almost. She looked at him wide eyed, asking, pleading for help. He just looked at her, smiling. He seemed calm, too calm. It sent her head spinning.
She had to have been flown downriver for about twenty feet until finally she hit a large tree, the impact making her head swing back heavily onto a rock. Then, just as if the current’s sole purpose was to injure her, it vanished into the wind.
She could feel the blood pour out of the back of her head, a red snake leaking into the water from the rocks she lay on. Her vision was blurry. She could barely make out her boy, her Devin, slowly approaching. Slow? Why was he slow? Surely he had to be rushing. It was his girlfriend bleeding to death!
As soon as he got to her and had pulled her out of the water, she had lost enough blood to color the water around the tree a deep scarlet. She could barely make out his face as he grabbed something out of his back pocket, something silver at the end with a sharp edge. Her stomach did yet another spin as she made out his face, smiling compulsively. Finally she found enough energy to speak.
“What are you doing?” She asked, her mind slowly fading away from her. “What are you doing with that knife?”
He looked at her, his eyes wide with fury, wild, uncontrollable. “What do you think I’m doing, Cindy,” he asked. The type of question you aren’t supposed to answer. Then, with no effort at all, he pierced the knife into her heart, taking her very soul away next to the blood-filled river.

Devin grabbed the blood stained body and through her into a grave next to her parents. When he finished filling it back up with dirt, he threw the shovel into the river, a sort of tradition he had when he finished his gruesome tasks.
Then, like all the other times, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see the Devil, yes the Devil, except he wasn’t like you’d expect. He had cotton white hair, his face old and stern. He wore a business suit, completely black. He looked completely human if it wasn’t for the fact that black holes stood in place of where his eyes should be.
“I see you have three today, son,” the man stated clearly to Devin in a low growl, the type that could make flowers wilt and little girls scream, “That’s quite a feat for you. Tell me, how did you do it?”
Devin smiled furiously, pleased to make his father proud. “Simple,” he said as they walked back up the trail from the river to the dead cabin, “I was aiming to only get the girl. I was going to act like I’m in love or whatever, my usual tricks. But she started talking about her parents, how they were abusive and how she wanted to kill them. I know how you love to get sinners, the real deep kind, so I figured I might as well, and I did.”
The man made a grunt, the approving kind. Then he said, “There is only one problem, you hesitated. You had the perfect time for at least ten minutes, but you didn’t take it. I had to make a current just so you could get up a nerve. I was afraid you were falling into your own trap, falling in love with a human, one of God’s creations. Tell me Devin, that wasn’t so, was it?”
Devin looked back down the path to the river and the fresh graves he had created. Suddenly he felt a tear progressing toward his left eye lid. He wasn’t falling for a human, he couldn’t be. His father will send him to eternal damnation! But why did he feel so sad? He never felt sad, nor remorse. He never felt anything.
“No,” he replied as they reached the lonely cabin, “I’m faithful to Hell.”

The author's comments:
Welll....I wrote this for a writing camp back in the summer. The teacher said it was "mellodramatic." Which, it probably is, but that was because I had my first nasty break up a couple days before. Anyways, it's not my best, but I wanna see what ya'll think. :)

Similar Articles


This article has 1 comment.

on Oct. 25 2011 at 1:14 pm
Mortimer-Micheals-Jacob-Joyce GOLD, Edgar, Wisconsin
12 articles 0 photos 191 comments

Favorite Quote:
"And when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn
Rejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice
Just know that I'm looking down on you smiling
And I didn't feel a thing, So baby don't feel my pain
Just smile back"-Eminem

That was...ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!!!  I mean, really, that was very, very good.  I submitted a thriller type short story, but it hasn't been accepted, yet.  How long was it before this one was?


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!