With Cream Cheese and Strawberry Jam.

Like my teacher says, "Nothing grosses you out more then blood and fruit in the same paragraph." Or something like that. 

I'd like to share a bit of a short story I'm working on for school. It stars Threes, a mass-murderer heroin addict lunatic. But I don't want to give to much away. I wrote the first paragraph months ago, Here we go. 

(Chapter 1) 

With Cream Cheese and Strawberry Jam

The single ceiling lamp flickered, it’s harsh glow barely illumining the dirty white walls and rusty linoleum floor. The corners of the room where still in shadow, the rest painfully lit in blank, white light. The lamp creaked in it's rusty bolt, protesting loudly against the resounding shrieks that shook the room, emanating from the neighboring cell.  A small metal table, bolted to the floor. A heavy trench-coat lay across it. Two metal chairs, each on one side of the table. And a man, heavily handcuffed to one of the chairs. These where the only things that occupied the cramped, dirty space. His once fine clothes were heavy and blackened, still sticky with congealed blood. He was young, His filthy dark hair fell around his face, covering his eyes and sticking to his chalk-white skin. He listened in silence to the screams, a corner of his mouth twitching, threatening to smile.

Beyond the small slit in the metal door he could see the blurry shapes of people, his half-glazed eyes struggling to make out the figures clearly. He shifted in his seat slightly, the legs of the chair squeaking loudly against the floor. The figures outside of the room froze and looked at the door, then after a moment turned away and went back to their work. He moved in his seat again, sliding the handcuffs into just the right position.  Clink, clink.  Thunk.  A sharp snap.

   He lightly slid his right hand out of the broken cuff link, then freed his left. He shakily stood up, standing still for a moment before nosily kicking the chair back. It clattered to the ground. The reaction was immediate and expected. A short man wearing a baby blue police uniform burst though the door. He held a small black pistol in one hand and a bagel, (plain, with cream cheese and strawberry jam) in the other. Just as expected.

So there you go, this is really just a preview of the full thing, which is four or five pages long and will not be posted online until it's entire completion.

I can't wait. 

Can you?