THE REPEATED SCENE – Suspense Short Story
Something somewhere is not right. I just feel so. I have refrained myself so many times to think about it but now, now I can’t help myself. They are not what they used to be. They just don’t understand me anymore. I don’t know why, why me? Oh God!! When someone very close to your heart stops caring about you, everything around you seems to be a fake. You become a worthless, useless creature in this big, selfish world. But I am not going to sit quiet about it. I have to do something.
“Who are you?”
“Oh Steve, come. Dinner is ready.”
“I said, who are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not my mother, I know that. Who are you and where is my real mom?”
“Don’t say like that. What has happened to you?”
“Shut up you bitch.” I shouted.
“Oh my God, Garry, come here please.” My father entered the room. He just looked like my real dad.
“What has happened, son?”
“Don’t you dare call me your son. You are not my father.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What did you think, two of you, huh? You can make a fool out of me. You are some other people disguised as my parents. Where are my real mom and dad?” I screamed.
I started crying very hard. But it seemed strange to me. I felt like I’ve cried like this many times before but I didn’t remember a single instance.
“Should we take him to a hospital?”my mother asked my father.
“Shut up! My real parents went to south Asia three years back to mint money, leaving me here, all alone. And then, then you came after more than two years. Tell me, where are my parents?”
“Listen son, listen to me.”
I have had enough. I couldn’t take it anymore. I picked up the meat knife kept on the kitchen table.
“Son, keep that down.”
I pounced on my mother, stabbed her straight in the heart. My father came running, hit me hard in the face. I dropped the knife. He took my mother in his arms. I stood up and kicked on his chest. He banged against the fridge. I picked up the knife again.
“No son, please, no.”
“I am not your son.” I cried and stabbed him, three times in the chest.
Every part of the kitchen was covered in blood. My parents dead, lying on the floor. Suddenly, a strange feeling came over me. Everything seemed to be a dejavu. I don’t know why. It felt like I have been through this scene before.
“I will never find my real parents.” I thought. There is no purpose for me to live anymore. I opened up the drawer and took out the medicine.
“Maybe I should sleep, forever.”
NEXT DAY:-
“And in other news, a boy by the name of Steve Armstrong was found dead who lived alone in his home in the Hill Apartments. According to the police, he committed suicide by taking an overdose of sleeping pills. He was the son of the famous Armstrong couple who were murdered three years back in their home by an unknown man.”
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