I was listening to some rock this morning and stumbled over a song I didn’t know from Nickelback. It’s called Home, and today’s flash fiction will be inspired by it, so be sure to give it a listen!
Without further ado, let’s get right into the story!
At the midnight gathering, not a soul wasn’t disappointed with the previous story.
Jack had only two days ago tried repairing the roof of his house and was blown away to the ground. By the time his family had found him, he was already looking at them from behind, noticing his body on the lawn, lifeless.
“It’s a classic, how can you not like it?”
“It’s got nothin’ original to it,” spoke the one to have gathered them all there, some sort of tutor of the afterlife if you will. Tonight was storytelling night.
“Moving on,” he continued, looking around to another new ghostly face. “Nick. This fool lit a match and set his life on fire, good graces. I’m surprised your house is still standing after yesterday’s incident. What have you to say about it?”
“Yeah, delight us with a story,” spoke another broken soul. But Nick had his ghostly face pointing to the ground and shook his head in denial. Still, he spoke in a low voice, hoping he wouldn’t be heard and left to his own devices, but the sound moved true and clear to the ghostly ears of each and every broken soul.
“I guess I’d rather be alone in a house that’s not a home. It all came to ashes before I knew it.” A pause. “I never thought that even after the end, I’d remain stuck here.”
“Poor Nick, you’ll get used to it in time. It took me a year before I got used to walking through things, but now it’s better than a roller coaster if you ask me. And the haunts can be fun too.”
“The haunts, yes,” joined in the leader. “We’ll have one tomorrow. It will be fun.” All souls cheered happily, all but for Jack and Nick, the newcomers who didn’t know what to expect. Haunts didn’t sound particularly delightful.
“Back to the story now. Nick, tell us some more, please. Your story is probably the best we’ve heard in ages! No offense, Jack.”
“None taken, I’m no storyteller.”
“Well…” Nick began, still unsure. The least he could do was pretend to be a storyteller, right? If that didn’t work while he was alive, maybe it would now. Maybe he did have a way with words, but nobody to tell the words to. Now people wanted to listen. He might as well give them what they want.
“This fool before you lit a match and set his life on fire. He stood in a room bountiful in wooden furniture and a locked door. No window. No escape. Desperation clung in the air, heavy as a stone on his heart. As the small flame blazed lighting up the dark room, he gawked at it like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He wanted a bigger, grander flame. So that he did. Within mere seconds, his hair could be mistaken for a bonfire, and if not for the enclosed space, the smoke would have alerted the surrounding forms of life. But this man, choked with floating ash and blazing hair didn’t scream. He laughed. He laughed like a maniac.”
“Yes. A pyromaniac, a proud one who only understood his mistake one moment too late. Now, he can walk through the door with no light on. He’s just a ghost walking through the empty hallways of a house that’s not a home.” A long pause, but everyone held their breaths, knowing more was to come. “I could blame it on the drinks. I could blame it on the blindness of youth. I could blame it on the loneliness. But no. Not when the only one to blame is standing in the mirror.” Another pause. After this one, however, he didn’t continue.
All applauded. It was a good story. Even the leader gave a nod of approval. For the first time in too long, Nick smiled. Maybe it had been for the better.
He finally felt like he had found a home, here, among all other broken souls.
I can’t believe this was already the 40th time I did this writing activity. It feels like I only started it a few days ago, but on the other hand I’m also running short on song titles.
If you know any songs you want to see transformed into a fantasy-genre flash fiction, be sure to let me know!
Also, I’m thinking of keeping this writing challenge of mine until the 50th week, so that would make another 10 weeks for flash fictions. However, writing will certainly not come to an end, but I will find some other kind of writing challenge instead.
If you have any ideas, I am open to hearing them!