I took my place in the school theater. Luckily a seat was available on the end so in the event I had to take care of some business, I didn’t have to step on toes and blocked views as I made my way to the aisle. Most parents fought to be close so they could record their child’s performance on their smart phone. This was the second show of the year and a formable one, the ‘Great Gatsby’.
Thomas had been working hard to be apart of this production. When he first told me that he was going to be a part of the show, I asked him which part are you playing, Nick Carraway? Jay Gatsby? Perhaps, Tom Buchanan?
“No,” he said. “None of them, dad.”
“Then who else is there?”
“I get to use the left spotlight.”
“Oh. And I still have to come and watch this high school production?”
Of course I did. I still want to support him even with all the news that’s going on. I’ve been following the news just as intently as I would the weather reports. And that’s how it’s being covered. Weather, traffic and them. But this is a wonderful way for the kids, and even the adults, to take their minds off of things for a bit and have a little fun. No one expected anything to happen in our town anyway. Though the National Guard as said to have them contained, some are getting out somehow.
Halfway through the show I made my way back to the restrooms. On my way, the parents keeping on eye out on the streets were talking frantically. It unnerved me. Why are they so concerned? Why is the woman in black hyperventilating?
While I was relieving myself. I heard the first scream. A woman. It was shrieking. A lump appeared in my throat. Are they here? Did they come inside the theater. The screaming became worse. It was an intense sound. Grunting. I backed up and hid in the furthest stall from the door. It sounded like rustling noises. Suddenly the room starts shaking.
“Thomas!” I yelped out.
I was too afraid to move. I waited until I heard nothing. An hour perhaps. Two? It could have been longer. I knew I had to find Thomas. I knew I couldn’t hide in here forever. I pushed the door open from the bathroom. The parents I saw earlier by the door were ripped to shreds. Blood everywhere. I threw up and nearly passed out from the site. My legs were wobbly but I needed to keep going. I needed to find Thomas.
There was a trail of blood going into the theater along with skin and torn insides. I stepped around it as I entered the theater and saw the real carnage. The death. The mutilation. The destruction.
“Dad!” Thomas screamed from the rafters.
I sat back in my seat relieved.
This story was submitted to Flash Mob Write’s weekly flash fiction writing competition. You can read it here on their website and ‘like’ it, or you can see the results once the winners have been announced.
Copyright © 2016 E.F. Olsson. All rights reserved. Photo is from water-winterwonderland.com.
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