Categories > Original > Drama > Pink Carpet
Ben knocked on the door. It was yellow and the paint was peeling. The outside of the house was an attempt at egg white, but over the years, the color had faded and turned into some indistinguishable color. The trimming was also yellow. Who ever designed the color scheme of this house should be shot. The door opened, and Marcus smiled.
"Hello old friend." He said gleefully.
Ben snorted and pushed past the younger man. He thought he was going to get eye cancer from looking at this house. The carpet was pink, but not that pretty pink you sometimes see in movies. It was that old pink that was never pretty to begin with and that had darkened over the years and was stained. A coffee stain there, a soda stain over there, dog piss in the corner...was that baby puke next to the coffee table? That can't be. The baby in this house was now six years old. The wall was worse. It too, was pink. Mold had spread where the ceiling met the wall, and the paint, like the door, was chipping. The ceiling showed large water stains and whatever the hell that brownish chunky stuff up there was. Perhaps it is peanut butter.
"Make yourself at home." Said Marcus, invitingly pointing towards the couch.
Ben tried to hide his grimace. He wasn't going anywhere near that thing. It looked as if it were about to spring to life and eat him. Kind of like that Ninja Turtle dream he had the other weak where they fought the killer couch and three of the five turtles had been eaten. Oh, what a glorious dream that had been.
Instead of sitting on the "killer couch", Ben took a seat on the wooden chair next to the dining table, both of which items were in surprisingly good condition compared to the rest of this run down house.
"Why don't you fix this place up Marc? It's disgusting." Said Ben.
"Well, in the divorce settlement with my wife, she got the money, and I got this." Marcus proudly did a 360 with both of his arms extended.
"Hm. That sucks."
Marcus nodded as he grabbed a little Spider man backpack from the counter and checked to make sure all the school supplies were in there. Ben lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Ah that was nice.
"Timmy," he called. "Come downstairs or you'll be late for the bus!"
Little thumps were heard down the hallway.
"Hey Ben, could you put that out. Second hand smoke kills."
"I thought you weren't afraid of dying?"
"I'm not. I was talking about Timmy."
Ben smirked and took another long drag from the cigarette and exhaled the smoke, creating a large white cloud around him. Ah, glorious revenge.
Marcus frowned and grabbed the cigarette from Ben and snuffed it out on the pink carpet as little Timmy enter the living room/dining room area. That is going to leave yet another stain.
"Timmy," Said Marcus to the little six-year-old. "This is Ben. He's an old friend of daddy's. Say 'hi'."
"Hi." Said little Timmy through his two missing front teeth.
Marcus smiled. Why was he so happy at a time like this?
"You ready for your first day of school Timmy?" Asked Marcus excitedly. Timmy nodded. "Can I take him to the bus stop. He doesn't know where it is." Ben flicked his wrist at Marcus, giving him the go ahead. "Thanks."
Marcus grabbed Timmy's backpack and his little hand and left the house. When the door shut, Ben stood and walked into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of milk. He opened the top is took a big swig from the plastic bottle. Milk is good for the bones. In his profession, strong bones were needed.
Five minutes later, Marcus came back through the door and took a seat at the table. He looked at Ben, who was still in the kitchen sipping down the milk from the bottle.
"Could you at least use a cup?"
Ben smirked and dropped the milk, the white liquid falling to the yellow tiled floor. Marcus rolled his eyes.
"First day of school? Isn't he six?" Asked Ben.
"Yeah, but he's the not the brightest bulb in the harbor. They wouldn't let him start till now."
Ben nodded and took a seat across from Marcus. "You know why I'm here right?" Marcus nodded yes.
"You won't do anything to my son right?" Marcus asked with great concern.
"What is with you and that kid? I thought you hated kids."
"Obviously you're not a father. Now promise you won't do anything to Timmy."
Ben nodded. "I won't do anything to him. I have no vendetta against him unlike you."
Marcus let his head drop to his chest. "What I did was wrong. I'm sorry."
"Like that'll make up for it."
"I know but," Marcus's hand went under the table. Ben went on edge. "At least I apologized right?" Marcus whipped out a gun and fired at Ben, the bullet missing his head and going into the wall, the sheet rock leaving a smile white plum of dust.
Ben reached for his gun inside of his leather jacket and fired at Marcus. Marcus backed up into the kitchen keeping his gun aimed at Ben. Ben Followed his every move, his gun aimed at Marcus's head.
"Don't do this Ben. What I did was wrong, but you need to take a second thought about this. I have a family now."
Marcus hit the kitchen counter and slowly slipped to the floor. The blood from his head slowly began to mix with the milk making a hideous pink color. If only this were on the carpet; it might match then.
Ben put his gun back into his holster. He took another cigarette from his packet and lit it, taking a drag. He walked towards Marcus and kneeled at the slumping body.
"Now Marc, we're even. And honestly, I really don't give a damn about your family. You didn't give a damn about mine."
Ben took another drag from his cigarette and blew onto Marcus' face. Then, he stuck the cigarette into the dead man's lips. He watched as the smoke slowly rose off from the tip and the ashes fall onto the now pinkish milk.
"Hey Marc, second hand smoke kills."
I dunno. Seems a little fast paced to me. Oh well. Review of you like or hate.
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