Expiration Date, J. Del Vecchio [reading books for 6 year olds .txt] 📗

One thing he was known for though, was his stubbornness. When he had his mind set on something, he did everything in his will power to accomplish it. My parents didn’t like that quality about him very much and I can’t say I did either, but everyone has a fault.


My mom was always worried I’d get hurt. She said she knew what it was like to feel the way I was feeling, but just because she got hurt didn’t mean I was going to. Blaze would never hurt me. Everyone always says that love hurts, but that’s about as far from truth as you can get. Loneliness hurts. Losing someone hurts. Rejection hurts. Love gets confused with these feelings, but in reality, loving Blaze was the thing that took away all my pain. I was fifteen when it all happened, but I was certain of one thing: that he was never going to leave my life if I could help it. But some things you just can’t help.

The only problem we had was our stupid habit, the thing that brought us first together, and the thing that made him leave, maybe forever. We were foolish, we were stupid, we were ignorant…we were pyromaniacs.

A tear brought me back to reality. Curse my dreaming spirit. I hurriedly finished my weeding and continued on with my day the best I could.

The sun was near setting, so after sending Ashley off to bed, I made some hot tea in the kitchen. Tea eased my mind, and my mind needed easing.

My life literally felt like one of those before and after pictures they would sometimes on holidays print in the newspapers. The kind where you had to find what is missing from the picture. The details that are in picture one, but not in picture two. My second picture seemed to be missing a lot of things. Before, our town had adored my family. My town had only about 3,000 people in it, but most of them seemed to be related. Every other town seemed so much more advanced then ours. We had the really old fashioned dirt roads, mini marts, farms every corner, and monthly community gatherings. Our town scarcely had any of the little shops and stores like the ones we visited once, but what I especially envied was the fascinating trains they had. I have always wanted to ride on one! Even still everyone in our area was like one big family, and let’s just say, well, I was now twice removed.

Tourists always came to our town to sight see, because we were practically the only ones that hadn’t started converting our roads to pavement or any modern ways. I wasn’t particularly fond of where I lived, but the trees made up for it. In my opinion, we had the most awe-striking trees I’ve yet to see. In the fall they explode with vibrant colors atop the richest brown trunks. When the wind blows, the leaves almost seem to transform colors. With one side of a leaf being bright and the other side of it dark, the wind continuously flips the leaf giving you a never ending collage of a palette full with colors. That’s how it looked to me anyway. Then again this was another one of my weird quirks-colors. I glanced up at the clock realizing how late it was getting, so I rinsed out the kettle and cup and opted to go to bed.

The stairs creaked wearily as I forced myself to take step after step. Today was awful; so much for my hope of a better day. Although my father had become a person I never thought he would, I was still worried he hadn’t come home yet from wherever it is he spends all hours of his day while we are enslaved to his laborious demands. Did he care that he was corrupting his children’s lives? If he was going to ruin his life, he could at least have the decency to leave ours alone, but then again, I’m one to talk.


I opened the door to my room and sorely kneeled down to the floor. I now more than ever longed for my bed. Unfortunately, Dad set fire to it one night in a fit of rage. There are still scalded pieces of mattress on the ground of my floor, and blackened wood by the window. I wish I hadn’t of back-talked him.

The wood floor was cold and my skin itched from the dust. It was dust that I didn’t want to sweep away; afraid that any happy memories I still had left lay somewhere within it, and would be tossed away with the filth. Besides a small nightstand in the right hand corner of my room, and an antique dresser, my room was practically barren.

Tonight was going to be one of those long lonesome nights….I could just tell. It never made sense to me how my body- no matter how exhausted or weak it felt- would never just rest and go to sleep. To recall the last time I actually slept straight through the night without getting up once, was near impossible.

All was quiet except for a repetitious thudding coming from the outside. At first, I thought nothing of the sound, but after several minutes, I grew curious. It didn’t ring a sense of familiarity in my ears, which was rather odd. Normally I could recognize any sound during the night. I had become accustomed to the nights earthly tunes, but this definitely was not on the soundtrack.

“Ugh” I groaned, slipping on a worn pair of slippers. I unlatched the lock on the door and grabbed a flashlight on my way down the stairs and out the door. The thudding was much more distinct now. Darkness swallowed the light flowing from my flashlight making it dimmer then I would have liked, but it was still light, and right now that’s all I really needed. The sound was coming from the shed. I knew that much. The leaves crunched beneath my feet. There was a distinct smell to the air, but I couldn’t detect what exactly it was. My hand hesitated slightly before opening the door; I had an uneasy feeling taking root in my stomach. I was afraid, but all in all, what did I have to lose? The door hinges creaked as the door inched open more and more with every ounce of weight I pushed upon it. It was dark. Pitch black. I tossed the waves of light into the murky area of space. Screams instantly filled the air. My screams. Such an awful sight, I was stricken by how with one glance my eyes had managed to take in so much of the scene.

There was blood splattered everywhere, the walls; the floors; across the tools; and pieces of broken wood nearby. In the corner one of my dad’s old friends was sprawled on the ground. The worse image of all was the sight of Dad’s blood shot eyes, sweaty face, and blood stained hands. What had he done? I stared a second longer. Mr. Riley, my dad’s friend, was still alive. I could tell by the way his chest rapidly moved up and down in sync with his gasping. “You never were such a cruel man, Mart.” Mr. Riley took no notice to me as he spoke directly to my father. I was amazed at how well the man could speak considering how hurt he looked.

“Yah, and your mouth was always the worst thing about you.” My dad had sputtered right back to him. I didn’t linger around any longer, the way they spoke to each other in such cutting ways scared me.

As I dashed back to the house sick with terror, weighty footsteps followed not far behind me. I felt as though I was trapped in the midst of a horror film, only I knew that despite the ordinary movie, these actors weren’t pretending. This was real. There wouldn’t be any re-takes on anything that was going to happen.

“I’m gonna kill you!” These few words were hollered over and over again in such an eerie way. His words were slurred. Guess I know now where he’s been all night. The clubs. My mind raced. What do I do? It took so much effort to move, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The air felt dense and humid making me feel as though I was running against strong winds. My feet chose to lead me into the kitchen. Instinct told my hands what to do next. To grab a knife and pray with all my might it would protect me.

“Stay away!” I screamed breathing heavily. He staggered forward. Either he was too drunk to even hear me, or he had only one thing on his mind- killing me. As he got closer and closer a sickening smell sent my nose wrinkling. It was the same smell I had smelt earlier. It had been the aroma of alcohol and blood. The two smells created such and odd scent when combined together. My back brushed up against the fridge, and I knocked a magnet to the floor. I was trapped. “I said stay back!” His face displayed such crazed expressions, and in his hand was grasped a broken piece of wood, now swinging violently at me. All muscles in my body froze. I was incapable of moving. Why was my body acting this way? But then it hit me. Literally. Right against my rib cage I felt piercing pain; I was going to die if I didn’t do something. I remembered the knife in my hand, and knew that if this was my only protection- my only defense- that Id better use it fast. The next seconds passed by so abruptly. Hideous chills prickled my spine as they ran down my back; beads of sweat instantly forming on my once dry brow. The thudding of my exhausted heart grew louder and louder as the ticking clock signaled its seconds by. I felt now as if every speck of dirt swept from the ground could find more joy and happiness in life than I. My lungs quickly - oh to quickly gasped in the air I only minutes ago casually breathed, leaving me to choke on the debris of my lingering spit. I could hear the rapid pulsing of my brain echoing in the night, or so it seemed. I could smell my own despair filled with pure hopelessness. Had it really been only minutes ago that I had felt things just simply couldn’t get any worse? Of course, I had been confused and distressed beyond my liking beforehand, but it hadn’t been anything that I thought could really get any worse. How true the saying, ‘Things could always be worse’ is. My knees buckled and collapsed my worn down body to the ground. This event would go alongside the other memory that would haunt my thoughts and fears forever. I didn’t bother moving from the floor where I now sat hunched alongside his penetrated body. Panic still flooded my empty heart though, for now I faced the truth—he wasn’t