Terrance Spruill Jr: A Short Story

Into The Woods Terrance Spruill Jr. or “T”, was the monster under my bed with eyes burning filled with hatred and a soul too dark to imagine. He was the boy who remained deadly silent, unless an insult or two wanted to roll off his tongue and strike a victim with embarrassment and shame. His emotions were portrayed through his dark brown eyes that carried an everlasting glare, drilling a hole through anyone’s coursing heart. T was that one 9 year-old that many were too fearful of to approach. Or at least that’s how I saw it.

My mother had gave me permission to go outside (after plenty of begging on my part) and my father was still at work, grinding down more years of his life away in a factory. The summer air decided to be overbearingly cruel that day. My eyes watered from the intensity and my skin felt as if it were going to melt like an ice cream cone and seep into the cracks. The black concrete dared me to step forward and head to the pool but I was only 6 then, and navigation was far from my childish mind. I was startled from my thoughts as the front door slammed shut and T came marching out with a clenched jaw and balled up fists. Without sparing me a glance, he stomped in front of me and grumbled out a

For a moment everything was frozen, and the wind blew softer as if it were singing me a lullaby. I barely registered the blood gushing out of the wound through the entire length of my shin. My body went numb as I blankly stared into the treetops above me, swaying in delight as the leaves danced in the wind before scattering the forest floor. My limbs were sprawled out around me at different angles and it wasn’t until my brother’s face appeared in my vision that I snapped out of it. A gut-wrenching pain flared up the side of my right leg, leaving me to howl in agony as T knelt down and carried me like a infant in a mother’s