Family Affair

Spoiler

Dedicated to my cousin Branden and his patents, all they've gone through.

Phone's ringing. What time is it?
3:00 am. Who the hell's calling at 3:00 am?
"Hello?"
"Mr. Krenshaw? "
"This is he."
"Mr. Krenshaw, my name is Dr. Sanders. I work at the recovery center your son is residing in. I regret to inform you that he has passed away."
"What—?"
"I’m so sorry for your loss. I'll call you tomorrow with details, goodbye."
The line dies. Dial tone.
I lie back beside Martha. I move to touch her shoulder but stop myself.
I’ll tell her tomorrow. Somehow.
Oh God, Sam, what did you do?

***

The walls are completely white.
No posters. No paintings. No color.
The coroner pulls back the sheet.
"Is this your son?"
Martha's screaming. Sobbing and shaking.
The first thing through my mind is that my son is blue.
His face. His chest. The veins in his arms and legs.
Blue.
"Yes, that's Sam. That's my son."

***

"Well, Mr. Krenshaw, it appears that your son suffered from an overdose of the medication we were using to wane him off his heroin addiction."
"You're telling me my son died from an overdose of a drug you were using in order to prevent him from overdosing on another drug?"
"That's correct."
My fists shake.
"How long was he like this?"
"I'm sorry?"
"I want to know how long my son lay choking on his own vomit until one of your caretakers decided to stroll in."
"Sir, I want you to know that I had no way of observing your son—"
"Tell me who was."

***

Martha's at my side. She hides her face.
The man is about Sam's age. He doesn't smile as we enter.
"Mr. Krenshaw, Mrs. Krenshaw."
"Mr. Stone."
"I want you to know that Sam was a good friend. Whatever happened, I'm sure it was an accident."
"Just tell me what happened to him."
His eyes are red.
"I was watching him."
"I know."
"He told me to leave. He wanted privacy. We respect our guest's privacy."
"Did he say anything?"
"No."
"Did he seem distant? Upset?"
"No."
"Anything at all?"
"Mr. Krenshaw, please."
"I need to know something."
He's shaking. We both are.
"Mr. Krenshaw, please leave, there’s nothing to be gained"
"I'm not done here."
"Leave now."
"What happened to my son?"
He stands, accidentally knocking the metal stool to the ground.
"Get out."
"What happened to my boy?"
"Get out."
There were tears in his eyes.
I shut the door as I exit.

***

Martha stands across the room. I'm at the dinner table.
Letters of information spill across the floor and tabletop.
She breaks my concentration.
"Stop this."
"I can't."
"Stop!"
I glance in her direction for a moment, then turn back to my work.
Her hair is tussled. She shakes with pain and frustration.
"Our son is dead! He's dead!"
"You think I don't realize that? You think I don't know?"
"I think you're looking for a way to hide from it all."
"There have been so many cases filed against this place—"
"Carl, it's not their fault."
"They should have been watching our son!"
"It's not their fault. They didn't make Sam take the pills, didn't make him use needles. It's not their fault. Why do you suddenly care so much?"
I turn to face her.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Everything. When did you ever tell our boy you loved him? When's the last time you told me you loved me? Why do you care so much now?"
"I loved that boy!"
"Then why did you never show it? All the times you could have shown your love for him, for me."
"Martha, stop this."
"Answer me!"
I slam my fist into the desk. Papers fly up and drift to the ground below.
"Because...because I was afraid."
"Afraid? Afraid of what?"
"I can’t explain it. It’s like I was terrified. Afraid that if I grew too close to Sam, too near to anyone, that they’d be taken from me."
"And yet our son is still gone."
"I know."
I want to weep, but my eyes are dry.
"Sam deserved better."
"He did, but this is what he got."
"He deserved so much better."
Martha heads towards the bedroom.
She glances back.
"Maybe his death was not an accident. You have to consider it, even I have, that maybe this was not their fault. Either way, there was nothing we could do."

***

"Dad?"
"Yes, Samuel?"
"Want to play catch?"
"Not right now, I'm busy."
"Then a little later?"
"Maybe. We'll see."
"Dad?"
"Yes?
"I love you."
"I know. Go outside and play, I'll be out when I'm finished. Just be patient."

Very sad story

The first thing I would like to comment on is your diaolgue. You obviously do the best with that because it was consant throughout, but it was kind of confusing because you had no dialogue tags so we had no way of knowing who was talking except from what we could guess. Use tags at the end even though it's in first person.

The entire thing lacked detail. You used a bit too much dialogue and left out so much. What is this man feeling? I feel like I barley know him except from what he said. You could probably put this into a play format and learn more about the character than what you have here. You also jump a little too much. Try adding some actions and things between all those jumps.

"Mr. Krenshaw, please leave, there’s nothing to be gained"

Missed a period there.

"Tell me who was."

Did you mean tell me who it was?

"Dad?"
"Yes, Samuel?"
"Want to play catch?"
"Not right now, I'm busy working."
"Then a little later?"
"Maybe. We'll see."
"Dad?"
"Yes?
"I love you."
"I know. Go outside and play, I'll be out when I'm finished. Just be patient."

This whole part confused me. Was this a memory from the past? At first I thought it was his other son and he hadn't changed a bit, but when I went back and read it again I realized it was the same boy as before. If this is a memory perhaps moving it to the beginning would be better, although having it at the ending I suppose wouldn't be so bad either.

I think this has a lot of hope and if it's a true story I'm so sorry and I hope nothing I said offended you in any way. I wish your family the best of luck for whatever they've had to go through

SEE??? THIS is exactly what I mean. (Now you have to go back and read my review on your poem so you'll know what the heck I'm talking about.) THIS is good. This is original. This does not make me laugh. (Thank goodness, because it's a sad story and I'd have to feel like a douche if I laughed at it.)

I especially loved the scene at the end - that was probably the saddest part. (You still would've won or at least placed in "The Little Things" if this story had been written.) I personally was not at all confused by the switch from past to present.

Although I do have to say that the beginning of the story - it wasn't sad, exactly, because we didn't know the family at all yet, but I still felt for them because I couldn't believe - I mean, how heartless is that??? To call the family at three in the morning, wake them up to let them know their son died, and yet then refuse to tell them anything else until later and then just hang up? WHAT IS THAT? I got so mad at this Dr. Sanders, and he really wasn't even a character.

Really the only things I can say on improvement are: 1) There was one spot where you accidentally threw in a bit of past tense - "There were tears in his eyes" should be "There are tears in his eyes"; 2) "Mr. Krpec, Mrs. Krpec" - what is this? Their last name is Krenshaw, so this really confused me; and 3) "This is he" - this just felt weird. "Speaking" or even "this is him" (even though we know that's grammatically incorrect) would seem more natural. Keep in mind that people are not always grammatically correct!

But otherwise, this was good. SEE??? Okay, sorry, I couldn't help myself. (Ahem: If you haven't already, now would be the time to read my review on the poem, because otherwise you're really confused right now, aren't you?)

~Blue

This is such a powerful piece. Your use of dialogue to capture the characters emotions is extremely well done. Keep up the wonderful writing!

oh my...wow. this short story...it's incredible. it's also very sad. i broke down crying at the end when it said :

"Dad?"
"Yes?
"I love you."
"I know. Go outside and play, I'll be out when I'm finished. Just be patient."

i felt that maybe that was the reason their son had overdosed. not just because of that one time his father didn't say 'i love you' back, but because his father never really showed that he loved him. am i right? well...maybe not, but either way...amazing story. keep up the good work.

This is fantastic.

You have a definite affinity for dialogue, and it shows here: everything is very natural, and the whole story is very concrete. My only issue, as a reader, is your pace. Although each conversation individually seemed to flow adequately, I felt as though you were jumping around too quickly. This story hits us at the pace of real life, whereas we need a little time to digest what is going on. This story has a lot of punch, and although it's impressive, it travels at the same breakneck speed throughout.

Great work!

I am writing this because I wrote a story filled with dialogue just like yours. I didn't see the problem until everyone
told me it was too much. You need a story backdrop. It's your job to create a world that doesn't exist and then draw the reader into the world you created. After I got critiqued I wrote a second version. The second one ended up being completely different than the first but it had what the other one lacked and that was detail. I know it's hard to go out of your comfort zone but just try and challenge yourself. You will be so surprised at what you are good at and what you can accomplish. keep up the good work.

Thank you but your story is not my story and you need to review my work based on its qualities and failings, not your works.