Thirst

"Water. I need some water. Please."1

I clutch at the metal bars desperately. The man sits on his wooden chair outside my cell, staring me down. I swallow hard. It's no use; there is no moisture left in my mouth to quench my unbearable thirst.2

"Not 'til you confess," the man rebukes. His jaw juts out and he smiles smugly.3

"This can't be legal!" I cry hoarsely. I grip the bars tightly to distract myself from the throbbing headache the lack of liquid has given me. "This is abuse!"4

"Course it is," he says. I'm unsure of which question he is answering with the phrase, but it doesn't matter. The message is clear: I won't be getting any water.5

"I didn't do anything to anyone. I don't even know what you're talking about."6

He rises from his seat and walks over to my cell door, close enough that his face is mere inches from mine. "You lied to us," he breathes. The smell of food and coffee in his breath chokes me, and makes me even more ravenous than I already am. "You stole my daddy's money right out of his bank vault and made off with it, didn't ya?"7

I shake my head. The dehydration sends a wave of pain through my body. "I didn't. I have no more money than I did before I met any of you."8

The man's face twists into a sneer. "That's right."9

I don't understand, and I tell him as much.10

"That's because I have the money. I took back it from you, just like you took it from my daddy."11

"But I didn't take it in the first place!" I lick my chapped lips, a vain attempt to moisten them.12

"Doesn't matter. All that matters is that I have the money, and you ain't getting any water 'til you confess to your crimes."13

The man leaves the corridor. I look around frantically for someone, anyone that could give me some water. The block of cells is empty, save for myself. I drop to the cold, hard floor in defeat.14

"This town is corrupt," I murmur, "and now I'm going to die of thirst."

Author notes

Richard Laymon and Jack Ketchum are horror writers (but Jack Ketchum[!] is a pseudonym). So. Yeah.

A contest entry

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Comments


  • SignifyingNothing
    April 23, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    You mean Jack Ketchum is a pseudonym?

    Anyway, I really liked this. It definitely shows your talent. Reads like a scene out of one of Richard Laymon's novels!

    The only thing I can fault it on is that it doesn't feel like a complete story. It just ends too abruptly in the middle of the man's dilemma. I know the assignment was flash fiction, but I really feel this would benefit from a rewrite, and the addition of more of the story. As it is, its only the beginning of a plot, not the whole thing.

    I like it so much that I want to beg you (please, pretty please) to write more and to drop me a message when its done. I am hooked, but there isn't enough here.

    You have major talent, an ability to hook the reader. Keep writing. Absolutely, keep writing!


    • Viola.King
      April 24, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      Yes. Jack Ketchum. Hehe; that's what I meant. Thanks for the advise! I may consider a rewrite, if I can find the time.


  • Friesian
    March 5, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    woah!

    Damn-now I'm thirsty! That was AWESOME! Some people punish others for the oh so wrong reasons, accusing them of a crime they didn't commit. And the thirst! Damn! You described it beautifully! Wonderful-short-and wonderful! I really enjoyed this! Thank u so much for entering!

    -Lissy