Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25825682-20150209205225

Four hours beyond the suns peak in the sky in the month of April. Alexander Renbauld sat on bench facing the bright sand beach and its tall lighthouse with a glazed look in his green eyes, while the salty air brushed over him. He leaned forward cupping his hands together as his elbows rested on his knees. His head was lowered facing the ground as his crop-cut, shag sandy-blonde hair dangled part way down the sides of his fresh face.

Alexander quietly sat there and began to rhythmically raise only the heel of his black shoe, and then bring it back down to the ground with some force. “I’m sick of that therapy,” he muttered. “It’s n-n-n...” He uncapped his hands and continually hit the sides of his head with them. “It’s not helping!”

He ceased striking his head and gripped his hair as he continued facing the sand. Alexander lowered his hands releasing his hair and took a few deep breaths. As soon as he did a deep blue colored car drove up into the parking lot behind him. A woman who looked in her late 40s walked toward the bench where he is sitting.

As the woman came up to Alexander’s left side he could hear the sound of her shoes hit the concrete walk. He looked over at her with a stoic gaze, “Mom, why are you here?”

“So this is where you’ve been,” she said sighing with relief. “I was looking all over town for you,” she conveyed brushing a fringe of her hair aside.

He leaned back on the bench and said, “I always come out here to think.”

Alexander’s mother crossed her arms and looked down at him with compassion. “Your therapist just called and told me you missed two sessions, and this is where you’ve been coming all those times,” she gathered. Alexander turned his head from her, his eyes planning an escape from the confines of the topic. “Why would you do that, you know it’s necessary to treat your stuttering?” she asked him as she paced trying figure out his reasoning.

Alexander stood up from the bench and put his hands in his jacket pocket. “It was just two sessions. Not like it bloody matters,” he remarked turning and then walking away from her. Her eyes widened while she stood stunned by his action.

She came out from her sudden shock and walked up to him with some force in her steps, and called out to him, “Alexander.” Alexander’s mother intercepted his path. He stopped and looked at her annoyed, believing she was going to pursue the topic of him missing his therapy. “What’s gotten into you, you never walked away from me like I don’t matter,” she questioned. She placed her hand on her chest and said to him, “I’m your mother, if something is bothering you tell me or your father. Are you frustrated with the therapist or the therapy?”

Alexander leaned on his left hip and raised his left eyebrow. ''Why’s she so dead set on this? It’s my business if I want to stop the therapy, although she and dad are paying for it''. He looked at his mother a bit trying to understand her position on the topic. He closed his eyes, and re-opened them relaxed, “The truth is I’m just tired of it. It doesn’t feel like its working.”

“If you honestly feel that way then when we get home I’ll call the therapist and cancel the sessions, okay,” she promised putting her right hand gently to the left side of his face.

Alexander wanted to agree, but could not muster up the confidence to say it. I want to say okay and be done with the therapy, but do I really want to throw all that money away they spent on me to attend it. Alexander and his mother made it back to her car and got in.

On the car ride home it had started to rain lightly, Alexander sat quietly by his mother on the passenger side curled up in his seat and arms crossed like a child. He looked out the window as if in a trance when they rode by the 40 acre Mount Pleasant Cemetery. He looked over at his mother with solemn eyes and asked, “Mom, can we stop in the cemetery for a bit?”

His mother looked over at him and saw how genuine he looked. “Sure Alex, only for a bit though,” she answered. His mother drove them through the dark iron gate hanging grimly by its squealing hinges. Dark trees cast voided wraith shadows over the quiet, damp graveyard. The silence was eerie. The car parked at the bottom of a small hill, Alexander got out from the car. He leaned into the car saying, “I won’t be long I just have to say hello to him.” His mother nodded to him allowing his request.

Alexander closed the car door and rushed up the concrete path going up the low hill. At the hills summit he stopped near the Viser family burial plot and looked around for a specific name. He passed by large mausoleums and stopped before a granite gravestone with angelic figures carved around its surface. The testament on it read:

Here lies Eathan Viser, born June 24, 1997 - died June 24, 2013

Beneath this simple stone

That marks his resting place

Our precious darling sleeps alone

In afterlife’s embrace

Alexander sat down on the grass with his knees up; arms wrapped around his knees and faced the gravestone. “Hey Eathan, sorry I didn’t come last week. I was just so sick of th-th-th...” he struggled trying to say the last part. “That bloody therapy,” he admitted. “I just want the stuttering to end, but I can’t continue on doing a therapy that doesn’t help.” He lowered his head and said, “And the constant Xanax I took made me feel cold when I didn’t have it, so I got switched to a less fast acting one. I can’t stand taking these bloody drugs,” gripping his arms. “It feels like I’m depended upon them since they lessen my stutters.”

Alexander let go of his arms before he bruised them. He lifted his head and looked down hill at his mother’s car and then moved his eyes back to the gravestone. “What would you do Eathan?” he asked as if waiting for an answer from somewhere. He sat there disappointed at not coming to an answer himself. “You would probably continue on with the therapy, so you wouldn’t have wasted your parent’s time and money,” he said cracking a smile. Alexander stood up having got that off his chest he could breathe easier. “See next week Eathan,” he turned away and went back down to his mother’s car. Alexander stood up having got that off his chest he could breathe easier. “See next week Eathan,” he turned away and went back down to his mother’s car.

Inside the car, Alexander sat down in the passenger seat as his mother started the car again. “Listen Alex,” she said looking over at him with concern. Alexander looked at her curious about what she was going to say. “About the therapy, I’ll talk with your father and see how he feels about me helping you with your stuttering.” His mother sat there hoping he would accept the offer. “What do you say?”

“Maybe,” he answered shrugging it off as he turned his head away to avoid the topic.

Her eyes narrowed disappointed at his reply. “Well just think about it then,” she replied as she tried to find the words to sway his answer. She started the car and drove them home.

The next morning downstairs in Alexander’s home, Alexander was dressed in a casual outfit of an orange T- shirt, blue jeans and black jacket, and ran down the hall passing the kitchen archway. He paused when he felt his stomach rumble. I'll just get going before I end up late. Once he got ready to leave his phone rung. He paused for that moment looking down at his left side jacket pocket.

Alexander reached into his pocket and answered his cellphone, "Yeah?"

"You’re up," said his mother. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah I did," barely shuffling his left foot across the floor.

"No you didn't. I know you," scolding him. "At least take them as you go." Alexander picked up the left half of the bagel on the plate, covered in cream cheese and took a bite of the bagel as she said, "Alright, I'll let you go. I'll be home around nine."

Alexander finished the first half and reached for the other half, and then he saw something out the corner of his peripheral right view. He curiously looked toward the farthest right side of the kitchen ceiling and saw a damp spot on the ceilings corner and water coming down from it.

"Yeah... nine," he responded curious at what he saw. "Did you notice a leak in the kitchen?"

"Yes I did. Don't worry about it," she assured him motherly voice. "I placed some papers on the floor under it with a pot."

Suddenly the phones connection began to scramble. Alexander looked at it with his left eyebrow raised higher than the other wondering what that noise was on his mothers end. The rains must’ve messed it up. His line disconnected which he somewhat expected from a scramble, so he text his mother to call him later. In doing so, he looked carefully at the leak as he put his phone away watching the drip. Something about it made him not want to approach it as if there would be dangerous repercussions if he did. Leak or not I need to go. He ignored the leak and left his home.

Outside his home, Alexander noticed the rain had not let up. He groaned at this aspect. Alexander did not hate the rain, but he was at least hoping it would ease up during his walk to school. To him though, Alki point was like any other place seen before. Jutting out into Puget Sound, you can make a view of the bay from Hamilton Viewpoint. Being in the western most part of Seattle, Alki beach is along the coastline. Farther beyond you can see the octagonal lighthouse that the Viser family owns which overshadows any tourist at an estimated 11.277 meters.

As he walked to school Alexander placed his hood over his head and recalled what his father said to a friend about Alki. In Alki October last `till July, then around mid-July it's dry and departs in September. Alexander laughed at that thought and said, “That’s true. And this is only April.”

Half way to the high school, Alexander chose to lower his hood. He figured the first person he would see on the school grounds would be Olemilia. He knew her well as a close friend from her bright red hair, her green eyes covered by professional looking glasses, and her fair delicate skin. He would often see her in the creative writings class at the high school or being an avid reader like him nose deep in some novel. ''I wonder if she's at school already. I have to give her back Ulysses since I’m done with it''. He put his left index finger over his mouth.Whatever, he shrugged''. I’ll give it to her when the time comes she doesn’t mind, she knows I’m good for it.''

Later that day after school let out at 3:45 P.M, the rain started to come down heavy. The students ran hastily toward their cars or the bus avoiding as much of the rain as possible. Alexander and Olemilia quickly ran toward her car. “Thanks for the lift home,” he said trying to keep up with her.

“No sweat Alex, I wouldn’t make a dog go home in this,” she replied as she used her schoolbag to cover her head. Once at her car Alexander waited as she unlocked the doors. Over near the school buildings entrance a student named Arnold who has messy brown hair, a lean body frame and blue eyes, carrying a dark blue backpack that has a white star on it had just exited the school before the bus left.

“Damn, that was the last bus,” kicking a rock off the steps.

The student looked around and managed to make out Alexander’s profile near the left side door of a car. Once the doors were unlocked Olemilia and Alexander got in. As she began to start her car Alexander looked out from the window and could see a student coming toward Olemilia’s car.

Alexander narrowed his eyes to get a better look through the rain, “Is that, Arnold?”

At Alexander’s side window, Arnold tapped at the glass and asked, “Could I get a lift home from you guys?”

His eyebrows became narrow as his mouth turned into a slight frown at seeing Arnold, “Couldn’t he ask someone else?” Alexander questioned.

“Don’t be like that. Besides it’s pouring down out there,” Olemilia objected looking at Alexander with authority.

She unlocked the back doors and he got in behind Alexander breathing a sigh of relief. “Thanks, I really appreciate this,” Arnold stated.

Olemilia rode away from the school. As all three of them sat in the car the tension between Alexander toward Arnold grew thick in the air. Noticing how they both gaze out of opposite windows, she became prompted to ask Alexander about class earlier to break the tension. “So, what will you do your project on?”

“I figured I’d do it on the Alki lighthouse,” he answered shrugging.

“You mean that old run down tower,” Arnold said in a snarky way. “Why’d you pick that of all places?”

Alexander darted his eyes back at Arnold. ''This bloody bugger, what do you care what I pick to do my history project on. You probably can’t even spell lighthouse''. “The lighthouse has a lot of history in it,” moving his eyes back toward the window, “which makes it ideal for a history project,” Alexander contested.

He picked up on Alexander’s degrading tone and replied, “Well, I guess it makes sense for you to pick it then,” remarking on Alexander being old fashioned. However, Arnold did contemplate on the opportunities it could present.

“If you want Olemilia you could come too,” Alexander offered to her with an inviting gesture.

“Um...,” glanced over at Alexander, and then back on the road. “Sure I can come, I guess,” she replied hesitant on the last words.

After a while the downpour became a light trickle, Alexander was at home and opted to get started on his project. Before going up to his room he curiously looked into the kitchen and saw the leak from earlier had dried up. Guess the rains caused that leak earlier. Alexander re-positioned his backpacks right shoulder strap and went upstairs.

That evening Alexander was in his room working on his history project from his lab top. The T.V was on across from him showing the King 5 news on Ch. 4. The top story being broadcast by the professional blonde anchor woman is of a death in Alexander’s neighborhood.

TRAGIC NEWS IN ALKI THIS EVENING, THIS REPORT JUST IN, THE BODY OF A WOMAN HAS BEEN FOUND NEAR ELLIOT BAY DECEASED. THE BODY IS BELIEVED TO BE THAT OF THE TWENTY-FIVE-YEAR-OLD BANK MANAGER WHO DISAPPEARED LESS THAN TWO DAYS AGO. SOURCES TELL US SHE WAS ALLEGEDLY DROWNED ELSEWHERE AND HER BODY WAS DUMPED AT THE BAY.

THE POLICE INVESTIGATING THE SCENE GAVE NO COMMENT ON WHETHER THIS IS RELATED TO THE DISAPPEARANCE OF TWO OTHER PEOPLE FROM WESTERN SEATTLE. A REPORTER OF OURS HAS ASKED LT. XAVIER MOSS WHO HAS BEEN INVOLVED IN THE INVESTIGATION SINCE EATHAN VISER’S DEATH, WHETHER THESE NEW VICTIMS ARE MORE OF THAT KILLERS WORK. LT. MOSS HAD THIS TO SAY.

The screen switched over to a video footage of a police press conference with a brusque, dark haired man at the podium…

“THERE IS NO CORRELATING EVIDENCE CONNECTING THIS INCIDENT TO WHAT HAPPENED ALMOST A YEAR AGO. FURTHERMORE, WE HAVE NOT YET DETERMINED WHETHER THIS WOMAN'S CAUSE OF DEATH IS HOMICIDE OR SUICIDE. AND WE WILL ANSWER NO FURTHER QUESTIONS ON THE MATTER.”

Alexander was not fully focused on the story as his eyes were more trained at his lab top screen, but he was able to over hear the news broadcast. The idea of another victim found in Alki made him shudder. ''That’s the third victim this month. I hope mom and dad get home safe''. He sat back in his chair, stretched and dropped his arms to his side. Unable to continue on with the project at the moment all he could think about was the killer his parents. Alexander tapped the floor with the back of his left heel continually, waiting for his parents to return home safely from work.

Within that moment he heard a tapping noise almost like something hitting one of the glass windows. The sudden noise made Alexander jump from his seat; his heart rate became fast like the wing beats of a trapped bird in a cage. His eyes darted from side to side trying to locate the noise. Once he heard the tapping again he froze for a moment and realized it was at his window. He went over toward his closet with footsteps like a white rabbit in snow, and opened it. After taking out a baseball bat from when he was twelve he motioned toward his window reciting instructions. Don’t panic, just assess what’s at the window and then react.

Alexander reached for the curtain with his right hand while holding the bat tight in his left hand. The silence felt unnerving to him as his breaths seemed deeper. Gripping his bat tighter, he pulled curtain back. His eyes swiftly surveyed the area at the window attempting to find the noise, but a part of him really did not want to see it. He heard the tapping once more his eyebrows slanted downward, and he finally peered through the glass. Alexander’s eyes softened when he saw it was an overgrown tree branch tapping his window.

“Huh, just a tree,” he said lowering his bat and catching his breath.

(Again not full story just the beginning and it's a first draft, also don't mention the strange names as they are real and I did the research i.e Olemilia Starr and Eathan A. Smith on geneology. com. They are old, but still names). 