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The Holdup: I'm doing a short story unit in English, and I wanted to share one of my rough drafts.

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The Holdup: I'm doing a short story unit in English, and I wanted to share one of my rough drafts.

Post by Lynjabear on Tue Mar 01, 2011 4:49 pm

A successful day at the Ermsmire County Bank had drawn to a close, and Mr. Evan Davis, my nervous co-worker and I were closing shop. Mr. Davis was a man with a slowly thinning hair line, and reminded me of a mouse, with his scrawny hands and nervous chatter. By the time the sun started to set in our quiet, Southern, town, only a trickle of customers entered the old place and by the time it was eight-thirty there were only a few stragglers were left inside the building. At around that time, the entrance bell chimed twice, and a large, hulking mass of a man entered. He was tall, taller than me and Mr. Davis and probably a foot on either one of us. He had a tangled mop of hair coming from the top of his head, but I wasn’t sure if it was real or fake. The bear-like man entered with a deliberate stride, as if he owned the building.
“Hello sir,” I began, “welcome to Ermsmire County Bank, how may I serve you today?” Because I had never seen this odd person before, I decided to add the bank motto as well.
“Here at Ermsmire County Bank, we pledge ourselves to our customers--”
He cut me off with a grunt. Rude, I thought. I waited for him to at least tell me if he wanted anything, but he remained ever silent. Eventually, he left the building thorough the door that he came. I didn’t care so long as he didn’t scare anyone else off and stayed out of trouble. My thoughts left the man and went elsewhere as I busied myself in the world of business and paperwork, scratching out payments, fines and interest. I continued with what I thought was a normal day, bar the hulk of a man, until the shattering of glass smashed my idle thoughts.
“Nobody move." The voice was deep, and strong. I froze where I was, crouched behind the folder drawer where the paperwork for Mrs. Danielle Elder’s account was. I decided to risk a look out of my hiding spot. Slowly, I began to shift myself so that I could be in a ready position to go to the shelf where I kept my pistol. I had a license, but I had only used a gun a few times in the past for duck hunting, and that was a rifle, not a small shot like this. I wasn’t sure about how good I was with a pistol, but the man seemed like a large enough target to hit. I was edging myself foreword when I heard the deep voice split the air again.
“I said, NOBODY MOVE!” My heart was fluttering in my chest by now. I stayed there, still as a rock until I heard the wheezy breath of Mr. Davis standing a few feet ahead of me. Stealing a glance upwards, I saw something that shocked me more than the voice had. It was the same bear-man, holding a submachine gun and aiming it at poor old Davis.
Evan didn’t stand a chance. He was holding a bird shot something that couldn’t hope to even stun the mammoth that stood before him. The hope of him beating the attempted bank robber was one to a thousand, one to a million more like, but I couldn’t help admiring his bravery. He was a good shot. He could hit the eye of the woman in the bar across the street’s logo almost every time, but even a perfect shot would not faze this giant.
“Lower your weapon.” The man was more annoyed than concerned now, and his tone edged with impatience.
“Mr. Davis, he’s right. You don’t stand a chance.” I was close to Davis, less than 10 feet, and less than half the distance Mr. Davis was from the threat, so I risked the whisper.
Either he didn’t hear me, or he was frozen as frogs are when you shine light in their eyes. I grabbed the phone as quickly as I could, and punched in the eighteen-digit code as fast as my fingers would let me. Almost simultaneously, I heard the ring of bullets and the smell of smokeless powder filled my nostrils. The man on the other side picked up, and I didn’t even have time to say anything or check on the possibly wounded Mr. Davis when our robber wheeled around at the sound of electronics.
If he didn’t see before, he saw me now. I ducked behind the nearest wall as bullets tore up the desk where the phone was. I heard the clinking of metal on metal as bullets hit the safe behind me. . I ducked around the corner and pulled the trigger twice. Nothing. No sound came out of my gun, and in the visitor’s area, it was silent as well. I didn’t move for twenty minutes out of fear of the unknown. It turned out I didn’t need to.
I remember the exact minute and hour even now. The police came at exactly eight fifty-six and took control of everything. When I finally came out of my hiding place, I saw the thief dead, lying on his back, arms outstretched. My bullets didn’t work, my gun was empty. The officer in charge of this mission turned to me.
“Did you call the station?” I just nodded.
“You did the right thing.” I couldn’t say anything. I just kept on nodding my head. Seeing my expression and following my gaze to the floor below, he told me one word.
“Ricochet.” I walked to the man on the floor. Indeed, he had died of bullet wounds. It was kind of a sad way to die. I looked up to see the police sirens, piercing the night sky with blinding light and flashes. And then, the glimmer of metal caught my eye before disappearing again. I turned again, and again, I saw the flash, a golden spark against the white tile floor. Bending down towards the dead man on the floor, I saw the cause of the light. It was a gold pocket watch.
I didn’t even realize where I had seen the man before until I saw his name on a gravestone. In a newspaper, he was the face of a man wanted. In a certain small town Alabama, he was my best friend.
Robert had done so bad things in the past that I didn’t want to remember him once he left to “get a life.” All of the residents shunned him ever since his first theft, and soon, he had nothing to do but leave. The only thing I remembered was his last day in Woodall, when he brought me to a restaurant to tell me goodbye.
“What’s life without risks Johnny?”

This story is bad, I know. It's for English, not to sound awesome.


Last edited by EpicNinjaBear on Wed Mar 02, 2011 9:11 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : I finished it!)
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Re: The Holdup: I'm doing a short story unit in English, and I wanted to share one of my rough drafts.

Post by nightmareforums on Tue Mar 01, 2011 9:00 pm

LOL Evan has scawny handz :p And good story btw.
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Heartless

Post by Lynjabear on Wed Mar 02, 2011 5:03 pm

I also have a completed story about Stuffed Animals I wrote last year. It's better than this one and I'll post it once I find it...
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Re: The Holdup: I'm doing a short story unit in English, and I wanted to share one of my rough drafts.

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