The Fork

December 14, 2011
By AuthorAnonymous BRONZE, Merritt Island, Florida
AuthorAnonymous BRONZE, Merritt Island, Florida
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

There is a fork in my locker… Why, in the name of whatever God there may be, is there a fork in my locker? I didn’t put it there… it… it wasn’t there after fourth period when I went to go get my lunch… I stare at the tarnished utensil with raised brows, slowly stepping closer, taking a grip on it and tugging. Stuck. Huh. I bite my cheek, frowning, determination sparking in my eyes as I tug harder and harder, my grip slipping from the fork. I stumble back, huffing. Well Then.

“I don’t know why you are here or who put you there, but I want you out!” I growl, as if speaking to an inanimate object was completely average in my life. The Fork stayed put though, as if taunting me, and I gave up, bitterly dialing in my combination, pulling the lock off and swinging the door open, eyes suddenly lighting with interest and curiosity as my gaze falls to a piece of paper, skewered by the prongs of the fork.

I slide the little note off the fork, no longer interested in why it had been lodged in my locker, much to enthralled with my new find. I unfold the note, my brows knitting together, confusion overtaking my features. I read over the words once, twice. Finally on my third go around they begin to make sense and I recognize the words to be lyrics to a song my Neon Trees. Animal. I remember hearing it on the radio on several occasions, something along the lines of biting hearts and what not… I think. I shrug and pull the fork out with surprising ease, twirling the implement in my hand, glancing over the words again, the melody finding its way into my head, soft hums slipping from my lips before I can stop it.

“Oh oh~ I want some more, Oh oh~ what are you waiting for~? Take a bite of my heart tonight~” I sing allowed, shutting the locker, laughing to myself. Such a strange song… I crumple the note and toss it, along with the fork, into a trash can close by, wondering why some one would leave me that note. Exiting the hall, I continue singing, my voice blocking out the sound of approaching footsteps, eyes trained foreword, not noticing the shadowy figure looming close behind, features tinted with insanity as he reaches into the trash can, taking out the fork and following behind me.

The author's comments:
This Was A short Story I wrote in my English class for the topic 'The Fork' We Were Shown An Image of A Fork jammed into A Locker, And This Is The Story That I Came Up With From It. Enjoy~

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