mutesuits
I hate accordion music. It's annoying to b honest l. Not only that but he plays the accordion. And by he I mean the creepy guy across the street. He's young but still older than me by five years atleast. He's got sunken in eye and a shark tooth grin.
But anyway back to why I hate the accordion. It's loud and creaky sounding. I just hate it. I told mom that too. And I think just because I told her I hated it, she signed me up for lessons with the creepy guy across the street. Just to see me squIrk because that's the kind Of woman my mom is.
The old light bulb flickered occasionally making the old man's face look all the more frightening. His badges gleamed on his Confederate's uniform and his gun was held ready to fire if necessary. The boy, Matt, backed away slowly, his hands up in defeat. His shook in fear.
All along he knew this trip down south would be a bad idea. He'd begged his parent's not to send him but they did anyway; claiming he needed to be more 'social' and spend time 'outside.' BS, if you asked him. Now look were they'd gotten him cornered by some old guy in the attic of his auntie's house.
"Stay off my land," the old man said, his voice sounded eerily calm.
The inner smart ass in Matt came out before he could control himself.
"Technically this is my aunt's house. How'd you get in here-" Before he could finish speaking a bullet whizzed past his ear.
"You don't strike me as dim boy, kid. Now I'll tell you once more get off my land." Matt nodded slowly and ran down the stairs in top speed. So much for enjoying simple life down south...
The small glass balls shattered as soon as it made contact to the ground. The young girl gulped, and backed away nervously. Her brother would kill her if he found she broke them. She turned to bolt out of his door, only to run directly into her older brother. She flinched and looked down at her feet.
He remained silent studying the shattered marbles on the ground. His open palm hit her cheek.
"I told you not to touch those," he yelled.
The various antiques and dusty painting lined the walls. I glanced over to see my mom swooning over a lamp that looked like it belonged in Grandma's basement. I rolled my eyes. How could anyone be interested in this crap? We didn't even go to a cool museum either like the Museum of Science and Industry. No we went to the boring Antique and Art Museum, which I'm sure no one never even heard of.
I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I turned around and found that no one was behind me except for a suit of armor and the long hallway was empty except mom and I. Chills ran up my spine but I decided not mention it to my mom. She'd think I was making up stories again...
The air sparked with electricity. A young girl stared in awe at the sky her mouth opened wide; she was glad her mother wasn't there, her mother would've henpecked her for leaving her mouth open. Blues and reds clashed together creating a wondrous purple. In the middle a man waving his hands like a conductor would at a symphony. His back was to her. The loud cracks of the lightning, made her jump a bit each time but she didn't mine. Suddenly the urge to thank the man for the magnificent show overcame her.
"Thank you," she yelled over the lightning.
He turned slightly towards. He was a younger man, probably still a teen.
"Hm?" He seemed genuinely confused.
"The show," she screamed, "its stunning."
writing since 2011 · 5 entries · 5 days shown up
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momyoungmuseummattguyhateaccordiongirlmouthmotheropenhandsloudlightningthankyelled