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View Full Version : Charlie and the Box-brother (disturbing--a bit of violence. Very short)



InkwellMachine
June 22nd, 2013, 05:25 PM
Life was hard until Charlie came about--I just couldn't enjoy it, you see. It was all boxes and chores and dark places. And mother, too. But now, thanks to Charlie, she's got other things on her mind, and I get to rest.

It was such a kind thing, what Charlie did. It’s like he knew I was at the end here—like he knew what I was going to do to mother. Charlie, Charlie. Little baby brother. Such a good boy, wee little Charlie. How I miss him.

I remember, he first showed when I needed him most. I was in my dark place, wonderfully lonesome, and there was mother outside, screaming and scratching at the door. I had half a mind to let her in and show her the sharp half of my bleeding-stick, but then there was Charlie. He poked his head out of my shoulder and spoke for the very first time, scratchy little voice.

“What’s the matter, lovely box-boy?” says he.

“I can’t feel my proper loneliness with mother barking at me,” says I, and I was weeping dreadfully.

“Well well, lovely brother-in-a-box, you just let me grow. Let me grow and then we’ll see what we can do, shall we?”

And so I did. I sat in my box in my dark place while Charlie climbed up out of me and into the world. If I try, I can still recall waking from the most lovely awake-dream to Charlie cooing in my ear, saying “brother, brother. Time to get up, silly box-brother.”

“What’s the problem, Charlie?”

“It’s time to send mother away. I’m terribly sad to leave you, but we need to get you right and lonely, don’t we?”

And so I listened to him while he explained just what to do. We used my bleeding-stick to get Charlie free off my shoulder, and that was the lovely part. My box is still full of the redness, all dry and good-smelling. The worst of it was opening the door. The bad, bad white shined in through the door and made me sad and scared, and the only reason I didn’t close the door right up was Charlie saying “it’s okay, cardboard-sleeping-sibling of mine, it’s okay. Hush hush, and toss me out into the whiteness.”

And that was the end of Charlie. Mother ate him up, and I haven’t heard a peep out of her since. I peeked into the dreadful whiteness once, and mother was laying on the floor with all manner of new friends and family growing up out of her. There’s Mr. Baxter, growing out of her eyes, and little Daniel between her thighs, and I think Charlie might be coming back too. I hope he is.

It will be nice to have a good quiet family to be lonely with, it will.

shinyford
June 22nd, 2013, 10:59 PM
Love it. Will need to re-read and mull to get it, mind - but love it!

InkwellMachine
June 22nd, 2013, 11:55 PM
Ah, thank you. It was just a quick bit of flash-fiction. I plan on expanding it into a short story at some point that details Charlie's entire growth and the role he plays in maintaining the box-boy's loneliness.

daltonj
June 24th, 2013, 02:22 AM
I adore - yes, adore - this piece. Especially considering that it reminds me greatly of Doki66's animations (Salad Fingers might ring a bell). I'm a big fan of morbid surrealism, and I loved your write. I do hope you expand it into a short story; I wouldn't hesitate to read it. Nice work.

InkwellMachine
June 24th, 2013, 02:29 AM
it reminds me greatly of Doki66's animations (Salad Fingers might ring a bell)I laughed out loud when I read this, because it was directly inspired by his style of story-telling. Granted, I was sort of going for something a bit more lucid, but I'm glad the feeling is correct.

How lovely~

BryanJ62
July 21st, 2013, 04:40 PM
The alter-ego. The invisible friend. The brother we wish we had....etc. I liked it.