Short stories I write when I'm bored

The Bench

I sit down on a park bench and begin to daydream. All around it's silent, the way I like it, and the air begins to cool as the sun sets. A gentle breeze begins to blow as I think about my past actions.

Oh well... I think to myself, No time to dwell on what's happened. It's time to move on.

I hear footsteps in the eerie silence. Gentle, quiet, light, not meant to be heard. Someone's coming for me. I know what they're going to do and I'm not going to allow it. I hear the gentle, soft, almost unhearable breathing behind me and I leap off the bench, rolling on the ground, as I hear a swish and a thunk. I roll onto my stomach and push myself up, looking behind me. I see a tall man dressed in a black mask and combat gear, struggling to pull a sharp green serrated edge knife out of one of the wooden planks that make up the park bench where I had sat moments earlier.

"I know why you're here," I say looking at my attacker, "And I'm not going to allow it to happen. So I'm giving you a chance to leave now without injury"

The man doesn't reply nor does he look at me, but he continues to pull on the knife. With one big pull, he manages to pull it out, stumbling backwards.

I get into a fighting stance, make myself as small a target as possible, as the man runs at me, swiping the knife at my neck. I duck slightly and block his incoming elbow with his wrist, shoving him backwards. Unbalanced, he staggers backwards but quickly recovers coming at me again. He catches my arm as I leap to the side out of his way, I clutch my arm to stop the blood, only to find that it is a small flesh wound and nothing more.

But, because of that, I am distracted and it's too late to recover as he tackles me down to the ground, sitting on top of me and pinning my wrists down with his feet. I struggle and squirm beneath him but he's too heavy to budge. He looks down at me before I headbutt him. Hard. He grabs his forehead, groaning in pain and I seized the opportunity to push him off me and get up, all while dazed, and stagger towards him. I snatch the knife from him and push him down onto the ground before sitting on his stomach and pinning his wrists down with my feet. He struggles beneath me, grunting with effort. I look at him, then remove the mask from his face so I can look at him, see his final expression, so he can see mine.

The familiar face that stares into my soul brings back fond memories. Sandy blonde hair, those sparkling ocean blue eyes, that joyful laugh that was so contagious I would laugh too.

I bring myself back to the present and stare down at him, he'd changed a lot since the last I'd seen him. His eyes had lost their sparkle, his hair color had faded, grown lighter, a faded scar across his forehead.

We sit there in silence,looking into each other's eyes, saying nothing, just remembering.

"Tara..." He says breathlessly, finally breaking the silence, smiling at me

"Callum," I say calmly before I drive the knife deep into his chest.

A.N: Hey to those who read this! If you have any requests for any stories I should write let me know in the comments (these can include oneshots from fandoms).  Thank you :)