Authors
Note: This is a predicting piece. It is a short prediction of the ending of the
story that we read in the reading lab. Readers should look for the descriptive
detail and the dynamic word choice.
Cody went back to the house,
clutching the hook so tightly his knuckles started to turn white. He burst
through the door and ran to the kitchen, set the hook on the counter and
crouched down on the ground over come with emotions. Cody stood up slowly and
paced back in forth glaring at the worn gold hook that lay on the counter.
Every time he paced he would get closer and closer to the hook as if it was
slowly pulling him in. But when he got closer he became more determined and
confident.
Once he finally got close enough he snatched the hook, stared at
it with a look of fear. He was overcome with denial; he flung open the cupboard
and grabbed a pot, he set it down next to some old newspapers. Quickly, but
accurately he turned the stove on. Nothing happened at first; he tried, but
nothing. So he walked to the shed where some extra oil was kept; on the way
catching a glance of his mother in the living room. Cody got to the shed and
grabbed the old can, and hurried out. When he started back towards the house,
he saw something odd; there was smoke coming from the kitchen. He dropped the
oil and sprinted in the house. He ran into the kitchen to find that the hook
was missing and the newspapers were on fire.
He grabbed their dog’s water bowl and flung it towards the blaring
fire. It didn’t do much; Cody looked around with a panic as the fire grew and
raged around him. He bolted towards the door, grasped the handle and yanked as
hard as he could but it didn’t move. He pulled harder and harder but nothing
budged. He started to panic and his hand slipped off the handle and an
overwhelming pain cut through his forearm. It was now to smoky too see anything
but, he felt around the keyhole to feel that the key had been bent after it was
locked so no one could leave. This was on purpose. He started for the window,
when huge flame flew out of the floor and struck him in the face. He fell to
the ground wailing. Suddenly a thought occurred to him; Why weren’t his parents
here, he got up slowly and painfully. He stumbled into the living room, there
was no head poking up from the back of the couch, he jogged as fast as his legs
would carry him over to the couch, but there was nobody there.
With no other options he ran upstairs to all of the rooms and
yanked on the windows but none of them would budge. He went as fast as he could
back down stairs; then a thought occurred to him; what’s the point of rushing
if I can’t get out? He walked slowly into the living room he sat on the couch
and let god decide his fate. He sat there coughing and gasping as the air
escaped from hos lungs. He lay down and quietly and calmly closed his eyes for
the last time. That was the end of Cody. Nobody really understood what had
happened to that family, but no one cared enough to investigate, yet there
wasn’t anything to investigate. Everything had been burned to the ground.
Slowly the story of the boy who wronged and then later paid the price grew old.
And just like that the story of the mysterious family that still remains a
mystery had been forgotten.
