"To have an urge."
"To have an urge."  thriller stories
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nando
nandoAspiring writer.
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
"The Imp of the Perverse"- Metaphor for the urge to do exactly the wrong thing in a given situation for the sole reason that it is possible for wrong to be done. The impulse is compared to an imp (the devil on the shoulder) which leads an otherwise decent person into mischief.

"To have an urge."

"The Imp of the Perverse"- Metaphor for the urge to do exactly the wrong thing in a given situation for the sole reason that it is possible for wrong to be done.

The impulse is compared to an imp (The devil on the shoulder) which leads an otherwise decent person into mischief.

It wasn't until my seventeenth birthday that I got a job waiting tables at the twenty- four hour diner in town.

The place was called "Apollos" the name had an obvious godly meaning to it. I figured it was in reference to the Greek myth that Apollo was the god of the sun, who's mythical responsibility was to bring the sun to and from the east to west, all while on his flying chariot in the sky.

As for the name, I'm figuring because breakfast some how relates to the sun rising while dinner correlates to the sun setting? The name was either very clever, and or I was looking far too into it.

Thinking to my self I probably was, but in all honesty what else to do than think?

It is my number one thing to do while at work. I only work weekends and on those days I work the third shift, the twilight hours from ten at night to six in the morning.

To tell the truth I liked the shift, I was new to town, it was summer and I had yet to make friends so working at this time was the only way I had contact with really anyone.

My night went as usual, I took orders for those fresh out of the bar, filled a few cups of coffee to couples on late-night dates and folded the silver-ware into neat rolls.

It was just about three in the morning. Those who survived last call at the bars went home victorious of a smooth night. Those who life aged knew that the night was over, but what of those too young who know it to have no end?

As the cliche goes there was a calm before the storm, and this storm was twelve kids my age I had never seen not here or in town. Perfect.

The ratio was almost even, if it wasn't for the one boy who made it so that the girls were outnumbered. The one boy who arrived alone, the one boy who's eyes where the right amount of big and baggy when he looked up at me asking for the fried pickles.

The one boy who asked me "When are you taking your break?" In an awkward delay of an answer I replied "right now.." his table of friends just looked at us in anguish to see what was next. He broke into a half smile "Great, ill meet you outside" he said calmly as he grabbed his coat and keys and made for the door.

In a desperate attempt to make friends while also becoming dumbfounded by what might be the cutest boy in this small town, I hung my head low and put my apron to hang in the back. "Be back in thirty minutes Greg" on my way out I felt the glares of his friends, it burned a hole in my back but I didn't seem to care.

Out side I saw him smoking a cigarette on the hood of his Camaro, it was red with black racing stripes from front to back. It fit his personality, whatever it was. "Hey.." he said to me "hey.." I replied shyly. he cracked his classic half smile and tossed his cigarette.

Blowing the smoke into the open he looks at me and heads to the drivers door. "You wanna go for a ride?" he pauses at the door not opening it, he waits for my response to which I answer "yeah. sure." he smiles again and gets in and unlocks my door.

It was my guess that he had just got the car, it smelled new. As much as I liked his car, I liked him. He was so cute. He reminded me of this puppy I had when I was younger, he was so small that I accidentally smothered him one day and we had to get another puppy.

After about the third puppy I wasn't allowed pets anymore. My mom said I had an urge to smother things unwillingly. She also said that when I pushed my little brother off the playground and reminded me again after the wood-shop class incident. Hence why we moved.

These thoughts filled my mind while we just drove down the long stretch of road that led back to town, we made small talk about ourselves. I didn't care about the conversation. That is until he asked me if I knew how fast his car could go.

With that one sentence my eyes lit up. At this point I was on autopilot. I remembered this feeling, it was like I was here before. We went from the speed limit to full throttle. The road became a blur, the red needle on the speedometer rose with no sign of stopping.

Speeding down the road we finally hit one-hundred miles per hour. At this point I'm no longer thinking. I put my euphoria on pause to look at him, his smile is so big and infectious it makes me smile too. He notices me staring at him and he does a double take while keeping his eyes on the road.

Thats when I broke. I don't know what he saw in me, but his smile disappeared instantly. It quickly turns into a look of fear. Just like that I look at the steering wheel, grab it and pull it hard to the right. All I see is the road disappear.

I wake up to the world upside down, the common weeds found on the side of county roads fill my field of view thats lit by one headlight. I look to the side of me to see if the cute boy was still next to me but he wasn't, I just remembered he wasn't wearing a seat belt.

Unbuckling my self I stop and look at the time on my watch. Its six in the morning. I go back to unbuckling my self and I finally manage to crawl out of the car. sprawled out a few feet down the road I see the boys body, motionless. I sit against the car with bloody hands and grab my phone. I call my mom. the phone rings. she picks up. In a groggy voice "mm hello..? Violet? "

"Hey Mom.." I said while standing back up and wiping blood off my cheeks. "hey yeah I'm out of work, can you come get me?" "Oh okay hun ill be there soon" "hey mom.." "yeah Hun?"

"I Think- " "I think we should move again."

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