Assignment

There was only half a worm in the apple. At first, Judy didn't quite comprehend what this meant. "Why would only half a worm be living in an apple?" she wondered. And then it dawned on her. Judy quickly spit out the bite she had just taken expecting to see the other half of the worm. It ended up being much worse than that. They had no proof. He knew that they knew he had done it but they didn't have any proof. It was a huge distinction and it was the difference between him keeping his freedom or being locked away for decades. They continued to question him, probing him for information that they could use against him or find the proof they needed to put him away. He smiled and continued to block their every inquiry by feigning his innocence for a crime they all knew he committed. Patricia's friend who was here hardly had any issues at all, but she wasn't telling the truth. Yesterday, before she left to go home, she heard that her husband is in the hospital and pretended to be surprised. It later came out that she was the person who had put him there. The young man wanted a role model. He looked long and hard in his youth, but that role model never materialized. His only choice was to embrace all the people in his life he didn't want to be like. "So, what do you think?" he asked nervously. He wanted to know the answer, but at the same time, he didn't. He'd put his heart and soul into the project and he wasn't sure he'd be able to recover if they didn't like what he produced. The silence from the others in the room seemed to last a lifetime even though it had only been a moment since he asked the question. "So, what do you think?" he asked again. "Do Not Enter." The sign made it clear that they didn't want anyone around. That wasn't going to stop Jack. Jack always lived with the notion that signs were mere suggestions, not actually absolute rules. That's why the moment Jack looked at the "Do Not Enter" sign, he walked past it and onto their property. He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory. The shoes had been there for as long as anyone could remember. In fact, it was difficult for anyone to come up with a date they had first appeared. It had seemed they'd always been there and yet they seemed so out of place. Why nobody had removed them was a question that had been asked time and again, but while they all thought it, nobody had ever found the energy to actually do it. So, the shoes remained on the steps, out of place in one sense, but perfectly normal in another. She looked at her little girl who was about to become a teen. She tried to think back to when the girl had been younger but failed to pinpoint the exact moment when she had become a little too big to pick up and carry. It hit her all at once. She was no longer a little girl and she stood there speechless with fear, sadness, and pride all running through her at the same time. There were only two ways to get out of this mess if they all worked together. The problem was that neither was all that appealing. One would likely cause everyone a huge amount of physical pain while the other would likely end up with everyone in jail. In Sam's mind, there was only one thing to do. He threw everyone else under the bus and he secretly sprinted away leaving the others to take the fall without him. It was just a burger. Why couldn't she understand that? She knew he'd completely changed his life around her eating habits, so why couldn't she give him a break this one time? She wasn't even supposed to have found out. Yes, he had promised her and yes, he had broken that promise, but still in his mind, all it had been was just a burger. She was in a hurry. Not the standard hurry when you're in a rush to get someplace, but a frantic hurry. The type of hurry where a few seconds could mean life or death. She raced down the road ignoring speed limits and weaving between cars. She was only a few minutes away when traffic came to a dead standstill on the road ahead. The light blinded him. It was dark and he thought he was the only one in the area, but the light shining in his eyes proved him wrong. It came from about 100 feet away and was shining so directly into his eyes he couldn't make out anything about the person holding the light. There was only one thing to do in this situation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight of his own that was much stronger than the one currently blinding him. He turned it on and pointed it into the stranger's eyes. The red ball sat proudly at the top of the toybox. It had been the last to be played with and anticipated it would be the next as well. The other toys grumbled beneath. At one time each had held the spot of the red ball, but over time they had sunk deeper and deeper into the toy box. He stared out the window at the snowy field. He'd been stuck in the house for close to a month and his only view of the outside world was through the window. There wasn't much to see. It was mostly just the field with an occasional bird or small animal who ventured into the field. As he continued to stare out the window, he wondered how much longer he'd be shackled to the steel bar inside the house. The rain was coming. Everyone thought this would be a good thing. It hadn't rained in months and the earth was dry as a bone. It wasn't a surprise that everyone thought a good rain was what was needed, but they never expected how much rain would actually arrive. Dave wasn't exactly sure how he had ended up in this predicament. He ran through all the events that had lead to this current situation and it still didn't make sense. He wanted to spend some time to try and make sense of it all, but he had higher priorities at the moment. The first was how to get out of his current situation of being naked in a tree with snow falling all around and no way for him to get down. Indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps. Sleeping in his car was never the plan but sometimes things don't work out as planned. This had been his l