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The Dirt Hole



















Corinna Chaize




I don't know why I went for a drive that night. It was probably stress- either too much sherry from the long drawn-out party I attended with my parents, or the argument with my mother, when I asked her if we could leave early.



What strikes me more, is what made me go back to the Dirt Hole. When I got there, I knew I was right. No one had come back since the night Steven drowned. There were still skid
marks from the cars that raced away, the drivers in disbelief. Everyone was surprised that I took it so well. He was my closest friend at the time. Of course no one said anything to me about it, but I think I could see it in their faces. I understood why no one wanted to talk about it, and no
one wanted to go back. I'm still not sure why I went back.



The Dirt Hole was referred to as "Aliah's café," to the uninformed, even though no such place existed in Anders Valley. It was a place where our sherry and white wine turned into beer and vodka; our polo and golf into pool and poker. Our intelligent talk of professors and universities and politics transformed into mangled talk of dirty things and common movies and
words that shouldn't be spoken.



The Dirt Hole was really just an empty, old house by the side of the river- ancient, actually. There hadn't been a house so small and filthy in Anders Valley in fifty years. That's
why no one ever discovered us, or the body. No one lived near the house, because no one wanted to even remember it was there.



Outside the Dirt Hole, Steven was the most intelligent of us all. Inside, he was the loudest and most reckless of us all. No one could stop him when he started drinking. Not that we tried, but I think he knew what we were thinking.



Steven drank and drank when he was there. That night he shot down ten rounds of vodka, and then walked around with a couple of forties. He joined a few poker games, losing some
more of his parent's money, like the rest of the kids.



I remember we had a conversation that night about the girls we'd like to get with, and
although I never had the courage to do anything about it, Steven would walk right up to a girl, and be upstairs with her ten minutes later. I think he was with a girl named Sammy that night-Samantha outside the Dirt Hole. She barely talked anymore. Especially not to me. I think the jealousy overwhelmed me that night.



After he stumbled down the stairs after being with her, he took my arm and brought me outside. Said he wanted to get some fresh air, and have a smoke. "I don't know if I can do it
anymore, buddy," he said, slurring a few words while we walked towards the river. I asked him what he meant. He didn't respond. "I mean, what does it all mean!?" he yelled, looking up to the sky and waiting for an echo.



He sat down by the river and started crying. He wasn't one to cry, even when he drank too much. I sat next to him. He put his head in the water and sat there for awhile, scrubbing his hair.



I looked at him. He was still sitting there, scrubbing, forcing something out of his head. Right then, I think I understood what he meant. "What the hell do you mean, you shithead! You have everything! The most money of us all, you could go to any university in the world, you have
looks, friends, what more do you want!?"



He was sobbing out of control at this point. I stopped, breathed, and tried to think of ways to take back what I had just said. Before I could, he said the three words that ruined us all. "I want you."



So he was a faggot. The little shit was a faggot. My best friend. I wonder if he had ever slept with a girl his entire life. He was probably upstairs sharing his innermost secrets and feelings with Sammy- not doing her.



It was too much for me at that point. I began creating complex scenes of him in my mind. Steven with men, Steven in drag. Jesus, he probably had some special girly name he was called.
Stephanie, maybe. I imagined him, sitting in his room, thinking of me in that way. The pain, the anger, the confusion all overwhelmed me until I could hardly stand it. I lashed out.



Holding him under, I barely thought about what I was doing, where I was. Pure emotion was all that was in my head. After a minute or so, it was over. There was no struggle, and never
had been.



He floated away down the river. At that point I didn't care. True, he didn't drown that night. At least not on his own, like everyone thought. And it's all his fault.


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Comments

The following comments are for "The Dirt Hole"
by mscnin7

Hmmm...
mscnin7,
Well this story was rather hard to read for a couple of reasons.

The one I noticed right away was that the paragraph spacing was messed up. You had sentences that split and ended on the next line, this was very confusing to me.

Lastly, was the main character (you don't give him a name). The truth I just did not like him. I personally do not agree with his thinking. What I got from this story was that he believes that since Steven was a homosexual he deserved to be killed. I was the most bothered by this because Steven was suppose to be his best friend, and he did not feel any guilt over murdering him. There was no looking back and saying to himself 'I feel bad for killing Steven', it was him looking back going 'hey, it is Steven's fault he is dead because he was gay'.

I do not know your motives or reasons for writing this story. With the description you showed some promise - just clean up those paragraph breaks.

Later,
Dras

( Posted by: Drastine [Member] On: April 18, 2002 )

A shame
Wow, I think you really missed the mark on this one. It's written well, but I'm not a big fan of homophobic literature. Just my tastes, but I can't get by the hate.

No complaints about the way it was written. Your descriptions were good and I liked the the character development, but you kinda wasted it.

Parteepants

( Posted by: Richard Dani [Member] On: April 18, 2002 )

not appropriate
I can perhaps see this if it was part of a larger story and that this was a pivotal event in that story, but as a stand alone the subject matter is nothing more than homophobia. This is no more appropriate than if the story was about the character killing someone black simply because they were black.

Your writing style shows promise, however. The formatting as mentioned above needs work, but that's just a minor quibble. I liked the image of Steven trying to 'scrub' his admission out of his head.

I would keep up your writing, but I would re-analyze the point you were trying to make with this story

( Posted by: Zebralicious [Member] On: April 18, 2002 )

ok........
Develope the main character more, then things will make more sense I think. This is a well written scene but seems pointless and ridiculous without some sort of background.

The thing that glared out at me was that we know less about the main character then Steven. Since the main character is a very important to the overall story(especially since it is so short), we get plot holes. At least some hints, everyone have reasons for their actions so supply them..the present one seems uncalled for. As much as people like plot twists, random surprices is another matter.

( Posted by: Furius [Member] On: April 18, 2002 )

Pretty good
Pretty good, not great, but pretty good. My story Personal Heaven is a very old story, I wrote it a couple of years ago, it's the way it is because that's how the words came out. I'm not fond on the story myself, never have been, but it's posted, it's written, it's over, next story so to speak.

( Posted by: TrojanTony [Member] On: April 30, 2002 )

clarification of the story
Okay.. well- as for the paragraphing stuff, the story just got kind of messed up when I pasted it onto the website.. It shouldn't be like that. Another point- I didn't mean to offend anyone, I am not a homophobe, and have no problems with homosexuals. The whole point of the story is that the main character has no remorse, and is an ignorant, close-minded individual, which is shown in earlier parts of the story, if you look closely. This is why he remains unnamed throughout the story. Please look at this closely, and you will see that I was not trying to be racist by writing this story. Thank you.

( Posted by: mscNIN7 [Member] On: May 5, 2002 )

the world at large
ok i have to agree that it should be longer, but i must give you snaps for the courage you showed by touching such a delicate subject, and have not all main characters are supposed to be like. the narrators name might be best left un known, he's telling the story, and really i think they're about even in the whole "character introduction" aspect, and another thing. Just because old whats his face is the narrator does not mean he's even the main character, this could very well be Steven's story, with flash backs and what not. but this should definetly be longer, maybe Killer and Sammy could get into a little something, i don't mean sexualy, but on the scale of maybe Killer trying to understand something in himself and Steve. Besides getting information like that a lot of people would probably be pretty freaked out and you should really take it into account that Killer was drinking and that does tend to make people a little funny in the head, especialy the heavey shit they had. ok, that's enough from me. hope you listen and writ more it looks all to promising.

( Posted by: rincewind [Member] On: June 4, 2004 )





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