TCTE Short Fiction Contest

 A Four Letter Word

by Venura Dasal

It was an early Monday morning when the slam of a door woke Connor up for the day. Turning and stretching in his bed, the tall, blond teen slowly rose. Around him lay a small, tidy room, not a poster or blemish in sight, nor any unkempt clothes on the floor. The only notable thing in the room was a shelf directly above the head of his bed, holding up various trophies of both academic and athletic achievement. Keeping his covers on him, Connor slowly trudged to the door of his room.

    The stairway leading down to the living room was surrounded by various family photos taken over the years. Every morning, Connor was reminded of his family’s history as he walked down the stairs. From his parents’ wedding, to his sister starting middle school—every memory was accounted for. Spelling bees, hockey games, graduations:  everything was there.

         As he entered the living room, eyes still droopy, he spotted his sister Peredith, who had taken to sleeping on the couch. Her covers, which she dragged from her room, covered her slumbering body, her hair being the only part showing.

    Connor was four when his sister was born. While at first he’d wished fervently for a little sibling, he’d soon come to regret the wish. Always bugging him whenever she got the chance, and getting away with mishaps he would have been crucified for, Connor had learned that little sisters were the most annoying beings on the planet.   

    Roughly ruffling her hair, which elicited a grumpy groan from Peredith, Connor went into the kitchen. Grabbing two bowls and spoons from the cabinet, Connor took a box of corn flakes from the countertop and tucked it under his arm. Shuffling towards the kitchen table, he set down the items and walked towards the fridge. With a pitcher of milk in hand, Connor went to the table and poured the cold milk into the two bowls. With milk in the bowls, and spoons by their sides, Connor grabbed the cereal box and poured. Breakfast was finally done. Everything was set. Everything was here.

         Almost Everything.

    Peredith, still sleeping on the couch, snored away, ignorant of her brother’s hard work on the first  meal of the day.

         Peredith, human embodiment of a sloth, always  slept time away on the couch while her cereal got more and more mushy, until all that was left was bloated and tasteless cereal.  

       Peredith,  monster that  she was, liked  it that way.

               Taking a spoon, Connor began eating away at his bowl. After taking a few spoonfuls, he set the bowl aside and began searching the table for a newspaper. Under a pile of useless flyers and bills sat the Sunday paper with a note on it. Taking the paper in his hands, Connor removed the note and began to flip through the pages. It was useless for him to read the note; he already knew its contents all too well.

             Morning shift at work.

Remember to lock the door.  

Make Peredith eat.

Love, Mom

    Stopping at the Sunday Puzzles, Connor took a pen from the cluttered table and tested it out on the edge of the paper. Finding it working, he began to complete the crossword section.

Large Plant(4)

Tree

              The Sunday Crossword had become somewhat of a ritual for Connor. Every morning, when there was no one awake in the house, he would come down and work on the weekly crossword for a few minutes. With no one to talk to, and nothing else to do, he would immerse himself in the white and black boxes, only stopping when his spoon hit the bottom of his bowl and there was no food left in it. When people began to wake, and the sun began to rise higher into the sky, he would stop and set aside the paper. Carefully rationing out the puzzle for a full week, the whole process would repeat when the next paper came.

Houseplant’s home (3)

Pot

    Shoveling cereal into his mouth with his left hand, and filling in empty boxes with his right, Connor read each clue as if it were the sole thing in the universe. His hand moved, quick but controlled, scratching in answers as fast as he could, while shoving cereal into his mouth without spilling a drop.

Baseball Plate (4)

Home

    Connor was halfway done with his cereal when, from the couch, Peredith stumbled her way to the table, half-asleep and still with her covers on. Connor, eyes still on his paper, pushed Peredith’s bowl towards her as she sat down sleepily. Eyes still closed, Peredith fumbled around for a spoon before digging into her cold, mushy cereal.

Not inclined to work or exertion (4)

    Connor glanced up at Peredith, who was  sleeping again, with a spoon in her mouth. Her head, positioned precariously above the cold bowl of cereal, teetered between diving in, or falling back to the chair. Soft snoring could be heard.

Lazy

         It was a surprise to Connor when he found his cereal finished. It always was. Picking up the empty bowl, he looked up to the clock as he put the dish in the sink. 8:00. If he hurried, he’d have time to take a shower.

         Peredith, who had moved her cereal aside half-finished, had fallen back to sleep on the table. On the tips of his toes, Connor moved up beside her and raised his arm. Then, quick as lightning, Connor slammed his hand next to her ear.

    “AAAGH-!”

    “Wake up.”

    “W-What?”

    “You have 30 minutes to get ready!”

         Walking up the stairs, Connor entered the bathroom with the sounds of curses coming from the living room. When he came back down 30 minutes later, they had gone quiet, instead being replaced by the sounds of cartoons coming from the television.

               Walking up to the TV, Connor bent down and pressed the power button. Peredith, who was watching the TV, seemed rather unhappy about this.  

         “Hey!”

         “Come on, we gotta leave soon.”

         “There’s 15 minutes left!”

         “Yes, but it’s good to be early”

    Getting up from the couch, Peredith grabbed her bag and stomped off to the front of the house. Grabbing his bag from the floor, Connor rushed after.

         Running to the sidewalk, Connor checked the time on his phone. 8:35. If they ran, they could get there before the anthem.

         “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Peredith    cried out, waving the keys in the air next to the open front door.

         “Lock it for me!” Connor replied, only turning around for a second before continuing to run.

         “Can’t you slow down? There’s 15 minutes left.”

         Peredith had begun to catch up.

         “Ten, actually. And Mom won’t like it if we’re late again.”

         “Since when do you care about what Mom likes?”

    But Connor didn’t answer her question. He had already run off ahead. So, Peredith ran to catch up to him, and the siblings made their way to school.

                                                  ***

         It was early in the morning when the sound of an alarm clock woke Connor up for the day. Rising from his bed, Connor turned off the alarm and looked around his room. Cluttered and disorganized, the room was a mess. From laundry strewn about on the floor, to his desk full of disheveled papers, the sight of the room would have made a grown man cry.

         Good thing Connor was a teenager.

    Walking on the few parts of the floor he could see, Connor made his way out of the room, covers still on his shoulders.

         Going down the stairway, Connor could see a  brief history of his family. From his parents’ marriage, to his first day of high school, countless photos told the story of his family. From himself, his mom, and his father— everyone was here.

    As he entered the living room, still slow from his sleep, Connor spotted the couch…

         No one.

         Why would he spot anyone? He was the only one in the house. His father had already gone to work, and his mother had probably left for an early morning shift. Everyone was accounted for.  Everything was here.

         Keeping a wide berth from the couch, Connor made his way into the kitchen. Grabbing two bowls and silverware from the cabinets, he snatched a carton of cereal from the countertop and placed everything on the kitchen table. Getting milk from the fridge, he poured it into the two bowls, one for him, one for…

         Whom?

         Why would he make two bowls of cereal?

         Everything was already accounted for.

    Everything was here.

          Despite being unneeded, Connor continued  with the second bowl. With both bowls full, Connor grabbed a spoon and began to stir one of the bowls before setting it aside. The cereal had begun to soak up the milk; if it wasn’t eaten soon, it would become like cold, mushy oatmeal.

         Only a monster would eat that.

         Not having much of an appetite anymore, Connor took the Sunday paper off the table. There was no use reading the note on it. He already knew what it would say:

Morning shift at work.

Remember to lock the door.  

Make sure you eat.

                    Love, Mother

         Crumpling the note and tossing it aside, Connor opened up the paper and began to read the crossword puzzle. He’d always done the crossword puzzle. It was still here. Nothing had changed.

Gone away (4)

Unable to be found (4)

Lazy sloth (8)

         Putting down the newspaper, Connor decided he’d go to school early. He’d always told himself that it’s good to be early.

         Right?

    Rushing outside, Connor left the front door wide open as he ran. Why he was in such a hurry? He could not recall.

                                                   ***

    It was pitch black when Connor woke up. Clutching his covers close to himself, he sat up on his bed and looked around. Cracked and stained walls surrounded him on all sides, pushing in on his small, meek bed. The ceiling went on for as far as he could see, eventually fading into a black, cold abyss. The floor, upon closer inspection, was actually clothes, piled and piled on top of each other, until that was all that remained visible.

              Holding his covers close, each step Connor took pushed the floor in, eliciting a damp squelch as he crossed the floor of his room.   

         The stairway, old and creaky, was decorated with photos commemorating every memory Connor could think of. Every trip he went on, every party he went to, every living moment he could remember—all had pictures of him. All had pictures of only him.  Hospital visits, funerals, divorces. Everything was accounted for. Everyone was there. Watching him.  

    Following him.

    Judging him.

         Walking down to the living room, Connor spotted the couch, torn and decrepit. It lay there empty, with no one sitting on it. Oh how he wished someone would. Oh how he wished he could find someone lying there. Just one other person. One familiar face. One last memory.

         But who would? Everyone was accounted for. Everyone was here.

    The kitchen table was barren of any scattered papers and mail, only holding an old newspaper with a pencil beside it. The kitchen had become damp, dark and humid, the air giving you a taste of its rot with each breath you took. Not bothering with the lights, Connor opened up the cabinets and pulled out two bowls and spoons. Grabbing a box of cereal from the counter, he noticed the milk was there, too. He must have forgot to put it back yesterday as he hurried off to sleep. How silly of him.

    How irresponsible.

         The milk was rotten now. He’d have to put it in the garbage. If only he’d paid more attention. If only he were more careful.

          If only he didn’t rush.

          Grabbing the pitcher of rotten milk, Connor began to pour it into the bowl. He deserved it for being so careless. Pushing a chair aside, Connor grabbed the cereal box and began to pour in his breakfast. There was no use in filling up the other bowl. The cereal would just be left to go mushy.

           With a shaking hand, Connor grabbed a spoon and began to eat his cereal. Sour and numb, it left a bitter sensation in his mouth, as if each spoonful would slowly, but surely kill him. Pushing the bowl away, he reached for the newspaper.

To recall(8)

Remember

     There was no note on the pile of papers. There was no one to write a note. No one who cared.

Unfortunate incident(8)

Accident

         Stopping at the crossword section, Connor took the pencil, flat and unsharpened, and began to scratch in answers.

Fractured(6)

Broken

    Each clue, each problem. Connor went over all of them with care, giving all he had to the puzzle. Blocking out everything else, Connor put his sole being into completing it. Nothing else mattered at that moment. He didn’t want anything else to matter.

Everyone is here(5)

    When the puzzle was done, and the clues reread countless times, Connor set the paper down and made his way out of the house. Cars pulled out of their driveways as people began to head off the work. Walking on the sidewalk, he made his way to school.

         He didn’t bother to lock the door behind him.

Alone

                                                ***

         It was an early Monday morning when Connor’s alarm clock woke him up for the day. Fumbling around for the ringing machine, the young, blonde man with bags under his eyes rose from his bed and turned off the alarm. The clock, now silent, read 8:00.

         It was time to start the day.

         Covers draping his shoulders like a shawl, he made his way across the small, messy apartment. Stepping over piles of clothes and papers, he ignored the dirty plates piled up on his desk as he made his way towards the kitchen. Getting a bowl from the countertop, he rinsed it off before placing it on the kitchen table. Grabbing each item one by one, he set about making breakfast.

    With a bowl full of milk and cereal ready on the table, Connor walked towards one of the piles of clothes and paper, and began rummaging through. After a moment, he returned carrying a newspaper and a pen.

Road vehicle (8)

    He still had time before work. There was no need to rush.

     Cast away (9)

    Taking a seat, Connor pushed his bowl away and opened up the paper. There was no note on it. There hadn’t been any for a long time.

    He didn’t blame them.

     Responsible (6)

    Taking his pen, Connor flipped through the pages before landing on the puzzles. Testing out the ink on the sides of the paper, Connor began to go through each one.

Departed (4)

    When he was finished, the cereal had turned damp and mushy.

    Only a monster would eat that.

Gone

    Grabbing a spoonful, Connor took a deep breath, and ate.

Crossword puzzles and clues taken from

www.the-crossword-solver.com