Into the Pit/To Be Beautiful/Count the Ways/Epilogue 1/Fetch/Lonely Freddy/Out of Stock/Epilogue 2/1:35 AM/Room for One More/The New Kid(pt. 2)/Epilogue 3/Step Closer/Dance With Me/Coming Home/Epilogue 4
Bob finally realized how much he cared about his kids and wife.
He and Wanda had had enough kids.
Tyler, their oldest, was living his best life. He got married, had four kids, and got his dream job as a short story writer. He had two daughters, Nellie and Cecelia, and two sons, Michael and Andrew.
Aaron, the middle child, also got married and had two sons, Billy and Don. Aaron went on to become a police officer.
Cindy, the youngest and Bob’s only daughter. She grew up into a model for magazines. She got married and had a daughter, Lucy.
Tyler sat at the bar, writer's block clouding his mind.
“What to write? What to write?” he repeated. He looked around. There were people filling the seats; old men with nothing left to lose, women in nothing but a bra and panties, the occasional couple not as drunk as everyone else, a group of men yelling at the football game on the tv. Tyler couldn’t help but feel bad for the staff.
An older, very drunk man sat next to him. He face-planted into the bar and moaned. He had light skin and long, messy brown hair.
“You ok mister?” Tyler asked.
“No…” the man said miserably. “My life is just doing really bad.”
“How bad could your life be?” Tyler asked. “At least you get to drink the pain away.”
“Yeah, try not having organs. Better yet, try being purple!”
He reached for his ear and pulled out an earring. It was small, a little black circle with a red dot. He shoved it into his pocket.
The man was suddenly a deep shade of purple, like the color of orchids. His eyes looked like empty sockets. Skin peeled off to show bones. His hair was even messier, most of it missing.
Tyler looked on in horror. He looked like a rotting corpse, deep in rigor mortis.
“You need to go to sleep,” Tyler said, trying to convince himself he was imagining it.
“NAH!” the man said. “I’m gonna drink more. Bartender! Can I get a Pink Fizzy?”
The bartender, god bless her soul, started making the man’s cocktail.
“How can you drink if you don’t have organs?” Tyler asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m more than willing to find out.”
“Seriously dude, do I need to call an uber for you?”
“All I want is drugs and/or a noose. Do you have drugs? No. Do you have a noose? No. So I’m gonna keep drinking.”
Tyler felt bad for him. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Michael,” the man slurred. “Michael Afton.” The bartender placed the drink in front of the man. “Thanks, ma’am.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a wallet and placed two twenty dollar bills in front of her. She smiled.
“That was only eighteen bucks.”
The man finished his cocktail, stood up and made his way out of the bar, into the night.
Tyler grabbed his phone and started typing.
“The man with orchid skin,” he muttered to himself as he tapped away at his phone. “I think I just found my next book.”
@Crystal Sea14 @Barney Slayer @ShinyJDog1 @.that-gay-fox. @Duusuthepeacockkwami @Risabom @Stacten2 @EmmzaCrazy @UyNaYz @Kaiser emperor of cheese empire @Pumpkin Picker Without The Title
