This is the 101st in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.
The Brideless Man, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 12th March 2013
Word count: 632
The story:
“She loves me!” Jackson shouted at the top of his voice.
Neither the universe, or the house he was shouting at answered. Undeterred the tempestuous youth parked himself on the opposite curb and waited.
Just moments before he had told the object of good affections father of how he felt about her, and asked the fathers permission to marry her.
The reaction hadn’t been what he expected.
“No,” he said with finality.
“We love each other,” Jackson had protested.
“Come near her and I’ll kill you,” the man had said with a cool anger that had scared the young man, but it would take more than that to break Jackson’s feelings, and the father saw that, “I will rip your still beating heart from your chest, remove all your bodily organs, starting from the outside and working in, if you so much as come with a hundred yards of my daughter, do you understand? Now get out before I get angry.”
Jackson wasn’t dejected though, he was scared, and he was angry, but most of all he was still determined. He’d been through so much to get here, and he knew Sarah loved him. If facing down her oppressive father, and beating all the odds thrown at him he would.
Sarah was his childhood sweetheart, and he wasn’t about to let her go easily. He still remembered that first day at school, when he was very lonely and she had given him a sweet, and said “I’ll be your friend.” He’d loved her ever since.
Down the end of the streets blue flashing caught his eyes, he’d not noticed the sirens, but now he couldn’t help but here their cries.
He panicked, not knowing whether to run, or face down the fascists that would lock him up. Jackson had no doubts Sarah’s father had called them, it was a test.
“You stay there,” one of the uniformed policemen said pointing at Jackson after he got out of the car.
Jackson stood up, but didn’t go anywhere.
One of the other officers came and stood beside the young man, the other two went in the house.
“So why are you threatening these good people?” the police officer with the young man said when the others were inside.
“I didn’t threaten anyone,” Jackson said, “It was him who threatened me. He doesn’t like me, but me and his daughter, Sarah, are in love.”
“And where was Sarah when you attacked him?”
“I didn’t attack anyone,” Jackson protested the sudden change of charge.
“You went in there, you abused Mister Craigsmith, threatened him, and then pointed a weapon at him. “
“That’s not what happened, I asked to marry his daughter,” the Jackson said, “That’s it. I stayed out here to show I’m no weakling to be chased off by threats.”
Just then the other two police officers exited the house and approached.
“Okay we’re taking him to the police station,” one of the officers said to the one that had remained behind.
“Really?” the officer asked.
“This guys from the loony farm, been harassing the gentleman’s daughter since she did volunteer work there.”
“No!” Jackson screamed, “We love each other!” Then he ran for it, but the police had him quickly on the ground and in handcuffs.
“Come on,” the policeman that had spoken after leaving the house said, “There’s a doctor who’s going to pick you up from the station. It’s for the best lad.”
“She loves me,” Jackson complained, struggling against the cuffs.
“She called the police mate,” the officer said flatly, manipulating the young man’s body into the back of the police Astra expertly.
The convoy of police cars pulled off, leaving Jackson to look on longingly from the back of one of the house and girl he’d probably never see again.
Aspiring 