| Puppet; Part 2 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 7 2017, 06:19 PM (186 Views) | |
| NEST | Apr 7 2017, 06:19 PM Post #1 |
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“Nestley Simmons. The only surviving member of the Simmons family.” The voice of Banahan, Cole echoes throughout a hidden PA. Inside of the cellar, it sounds as if Cole is speaking from every direction. The echoes wake Nest up from yet another stupor. “How is it, Nest, that it is only you? You. You of all people. Heh…hehehehe…The Simmons Family was spearheaded by a noble man. Geoffrey Simmons was a hardworking farmer who worked in the factory during the winter. He didn’t ask for much but his whiskey and pork rinds. Mr. Simmons was proud of his children and he loved his wife, even though he was too inebriated and exhausted to show it. When it mattered most, you always had your father. He taught you at an early age not to trust anyone; when he promised to catch you if you jumped off of his truck, but instead watched you fall to the ground. It was a tough lesson, one you didn’t comprehend at the time. You cried. You screamed. You bled. You never truly forgave. Geoffrey Simmons taught you how to be a man…or at least he tried. But you were always determined to disappoint him, no matter how much he tried justifying your eeriness.” Nest sits up against the grimy wall, looking down to the ground. A tear forms in his eye. “Judith Simmons. Judy. Baby sister. She was always a straight A student, wasn’t she? Remember when she came home and always had a new certificate, award or perfectly scored test to place on the refrigerator? She was a week into her freshman year of high school…on that day. Judy knew she was smarter than you, but she still clung to you. She still looked at you like a hero.” Nest’s eyes continue to well up. “Patricia Simmons. Miss Pattie, as everyone called her around town. She was the sweetest old lady you could ever know, isn’t that right? You and your mother may have butt heads more often than not, but she always sacrificed to make sure you never wanted for anything. The last time you saw your mother, you yelled at her for barging into the garage while you and your friends were having band practice. She just wanted to ask you numbskulls if you were hungry or thirsty. Brokenhearted, wondering what happened to her baby boy, she closes the garage door wishing one day you’d acknowledge her existence again...on that day.” The tears were flowing like a rain shower. Nest closed eyes and pounded on the pavement. He simply whimpers, “I’m sorry.” “You ask God everyday why it couldn’t have been you instead of them. Or is that what you want the world to think? Do you just wish to paint yourself the victim in an attempt to deflect any suspicion that surrounds your survival? It must be a pathetic life to live, knowing you’re wasting valuable oxygen that your family could be using to actually contribute something to this society. Your mother was a Godsend to the people of Rocky Mount. Your father’s crops were responsible for feeding a majority of that land. Your sister could’ve gone on to be a doctor, lawyer, something of note that would’ve been better than anything you could’ve ever dreamed of being. You don’t deserve to live over them. Especially when it was YOU who took their life away!” “FUCK YOU THAT’S BULLSHIT!” Nest squeals out. His head crumbles in his hands as he continues to sob. The light in the lightroom off in the distance flickered off. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” |
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2:28 PM Jul 11