Money Concern Story

Graham winters was a business man who was always low of money due to his habit of expenditure. He worked very hard, but at the end of every week he had little to no money. He stressed about it when it came to making up debit reports for him and his wife to discuss. The world was a ball of money and he threw his money at the world until he had none. Graham wanted to make more but he couldn't part from his additional expenditures, so he told his wife Hillary that he loved her when she cried over not being able to afford groceries; after they would laugh and share several cups of honey-tea, but it was his daughter Ella who caused Graham most concern - he was unable to provide excess and she in return grew into a terribly lonesome being; sure she was quiet, but there was a queer that made his skin crawl when he looked at her. Graham wanted to do more for her, but he didn't know what, and so he waited until Ella returned to her room before he allowed himself to breathe again.

“I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the day of the better year;” scolded Graham as he took his notes to his study. “I need to do more;” he muttered, but he didn't know what.

Graham tried to join a cult group, but as soon as he saw a person get cut with a knife in preparation of an orgy he grew weak - blood that easily drained from his face, and ice-cold he walked home with a cold.

“What is the matter dear?” asked Hillary as she saw Graham as he walked into the kitchen.

“I need a drink!” gasped Graham.

“Why?” asked Hillary. “Are you unwell?” she inquired.

“Yes! I saw blood;” told Graham as he grabbed a tea cup as though his life dangled on its capture.

“Where?” asked Hillary as she gasped inside of her chest.

“At the pub;” told Graham as he sweated over the memory of the fierce orgy.

“Well sit down I shall make you honey tea;” told Hillary as she crossed her brows over the fact that Graham had gone to the pub and not brought back any dinner.

“I will meet the kettle in the study!” told Graham before he poured honey into his cup and walked away.

In the study Graham furrowed his brows as he recalled the activities of the cult. He tried to make up his own idea about a new cult he could create - however his mind was a chalk board without writing, and so he threw the idea away.

Ella walked past the study and as she did she noticed Graham as he hunched over his study desk.

“Hello father;” cheered Ella as she blinked his way.

Graham turned around and saw his daughter as she hung around in her day dress. He blinked - it was a dirty little item with used lace that had turned from white to cream; Graham wanted to sneer at the dress, however then he returned his attention to Ella as she talked.

“How was your day?” she asked as she lingered in the shadow of the hallway.

“It was fine;” told Graham as he tried his best to smile.

Ella blinked and lingered for only a moment until Graham's hairs stood on the back of his neck. Graham wanted to snap over the sensation, however instead he ran his fingers over his skin to wash the creep off his arm-hair. Ella walked down the hall without another world, and Graham stressed - he could only just hear a faint creak on the floorboards.

“It was fine;” repeated Graham before he picked up his pen and began to count numbers inside of his head as he scrawled codes and fragments.

Graham went to bed late that evening after he drank his forth cup of honey-tea. He felt ill, he had not eaten in days, and he had spent his last dollar on tram fare. Graham settled into his bed and he glared at Hillary who was asleep in the bed across the room - he didn't like her being so far away, however she refused to sleep any closer lest he accidentally leave her pregnant. Graham shrugged and then he slipped under the blanket and closed his eyes - tomorrow he was going to do something to make him feel better, and he was going to bring back dinner.

The next day Graham moved to the bad side of town to see if he could score himself a job. He walked over a fallen drunk, broken bottles, and broken glass, before his eyes met a small cafe. Graham wandered inside.

The manager looked at Graham and saw money, and he smiled as he offered a seat. Graham took the seat and then asked for the manager - the manager smiled and told him he was the manager. Graham explained that he needed a job and the manager shrugged.

“No jobs, sorry;” he answered as he crossed his arms. “This is a fine cafe, but it is only small - I have all the staff I need;” he declared. “There is only one job I could offer you, and you wouldn't like it;” he told.

“What job?” asked Graham as he glared at the manager.

“I'd pay you to sleep with my wife;” told the manager as he narrowed his eyes.

Graham swallowed his pride, he wanted to walk out of the cafe, however his shoes deceived him and stayed still.

“That is a joke?” asked Graham as he lifted his eyes to the manger who smiled.

“No joke;” told the manager before he winked and walked away.

Graham stood and walked out of the cafe, and then he walked down the street - he felt out of sorts, in chaos, sick; he had been thrown an insult and he wanted to crawl for it like it was a tossed beer cap for a drunk.

“I am a drunk;” told Graham as he wiped a hand over his brow. “And I feel almost ready for a drink;” he muttered before he swept down the street at a faster rate.

However Graham didn't return home as planned, instead he changed his mind and returned to the cafe. Within ten minutes he was led into a room where he was shown a bed and on it a strange woman. Graham did all he could to appease her, however it took all of his decency away, and he trembled out of the door with thirty dollars inside of his hand - he had done the dirty and he felt worse for ware.

Graham returned home with a bag of groceries and greeted emptiness; he sighed. He didn't want to touch the food he had brought and so he placed the bag onto the kitchen bench before he moved to the study to place the twenty dollars he had inside of a money jar.

“That is my effort in a jar;” he sighed. “I sold my soul and here is my change;” he added. “How pitiful;” he declared as he hung his head just enough to feel the pull of a rope that was not fastened to his neck.

Graham wanted to be the person on the execution list where all could see his guilt and crime. He would erase his soils as he was hung for having had deceived his family and himself all for something that looked like loose change when in a money jar. He would declare that he was indeed guilty and he would be hung; Graham sighed.

A creak in the floorboards distracted Graham's attention and he turned his head to see his daughter Ella as she hung in the shadow of the doorway. Ella looked like a fright in her day dress that was too faded for her complexion - she looked like a ghost that wanted to be revived from its death.

“Hello father;” told Ella as she looked at Graham with a sturdy eye that glimmered just enough to make Graham wonder if she were as good as her behaviours suggested.

“Hi;” muttered Graham in a soft tone that was deep but lacked much emotion.

“How was your day?” asked Ella as she glared at Graham in a queer manner that made him want to reach for his pen which had an extra-fine tip.

“It was fine;” told Graham as he glared at Ella - he was not scared of her at all, he was just aware that she was different in the wrong sense; she made his skin crawl, it was a chemical reaction that came from metaphysical tilt - he felt the world off axis when he looked at her.

Ella walked on in silence and Graham was able to feel his body enough to notice sweat on his neck. Graham turned to the money jar and glared at the money inside - it was not enough and he wanted to cry out, but instead he grabbed the money, shoved it inside of his mouth, and swallowed hard! Graham almost choked, and for a moment his eyes rolled as his face grew red - however he didn't choke; he managed to swallow and he was able to breathe once again.

“Why on earth did I do that!” scolded Graham as he felt his neckline and worried that he may have grazed his throat. “I needed that money!” he added, but it was too late the money was gone and he was broke once again.

Graham couldn't eat the dinner his wife made, and so he took his feet to his room and sat at a desk. He couldn't sleep, all he could think about was the next day as cooking scent wafted around his head. Tomorrow he would have to do something evil and corrupt, and he wasn't sure how he was going to feel after.

“I am going straight to Hell when I die;” muttered Graham as he ran soft fingers over his brow.

He was upset, but he wasn't as upset as his mixed-up mind was. He knew it was going to be another day, and he was gong to have more money by its end.

Graham walked into a fine house and met a fine man whose name was Jack. Graham then met his wife Angie before he was escorted into a fine room to socialise in the most illegal manner. Graham did all that was asked of him and was given money in return. Graham thanked Jack and left the home with a face as red as the devil's skin.

At home Graham filled his money jar and he smiled - however his smile fell as he noticed Ella in the mirror. Ella looked at Graham and cleared her throat after a pause; Graham thought she had noticed he smelt like sweat, however then he saw Ella swallow and he knew she had eaten something.

“Hello father;” told Ella as she looked to Graham.

“Hi;” muttered Graham unable to keep the frown off his face.

“How was your day?” asked Ella as she glared at Graham.

“It was fine;” told Graham unable to stop himself from growing mad.

Graham felt aggravated and that made him strong inside - he wanted to shout that he had been fed too much beef stock and muscle, but then he softened; he couldn't feel his softer side that wanted to mope, and he knew he had been fed something special on his trek inside of the Devil's carriage.

Ella noticed Graham's strength and she glared at him before she stepped away. When Ella had departed Graham picked up a pen - he felt normal, his grip was soft but there was strength inside; he couldn't describe the sensation well but he knew he felt like a man.

Graham spent two weeks on the money-card and his name was passed around. He felt good and solid, and his body fast became toned with muscle - however on the second week a passer-by called him a felon and shot him in the chest. Graham fell and when he woke he woke in a hospital bed, he had returned to his weaker form and he groaned as he was told that he had almost been killed.

Graham was sent home in a wheel-chair, and as soon as he saw his daughter he knew that she was going to ask him the same words she always asked. Graham looked at Ella and scowled at her dirty rags - the money he had made was gone, and he had no strength to do all he had done before he had been wounded.

“Hello father;” greeted Ella as she glared at Graham in a queer manner that made him want to run away.

“Hi;” whispered Graham as he stared back at the child who had no hope of a decent future.

“How was your day?” asked Ella as she continued to glare at him with eyes that hovered over his face in the most alien way.

“It was fine;” muttered Graham as trembles ran up his spine.

The hospital had made him weak and he was unsure if he would ever feel strong again. Graham shivered and then he scoffed as he felt the wound in his chest - his skin had been stitched but he there stood injury inside; he had been shot close to the heart, but his heart hadn't been touched only his lungs had been shattered. Graham began to panic as he wondered how long he was going to live and how he was going to survive while bound to a wheel-chair? Ella walked away and Graham felt dark cover his spine; it hugged him until he was unable to breathe and Graham sweated as dark hands crawled over him. Graham felt his mind swirl with red and crimson-black, and he fell into a deep, dark, hole.

When Graham woke his wife Hillary hovered over him with syrup in her hand. Graham glared at her and thought how he had wronged her and Ella both. He wanted to blame himself, however then Hillary spoke.

“Are you unwell?” she asked. “Would you like to go to the hospital?” she inquired.

Graham shook his head as he glared in the most bashful manner.

“I was just overcome;” he muttered as he felt his lies knot inside of his chest where his heart pumped red hot energy.

“Overcome?” asked Hillary as she raised a brow.

“Overcome;” told Graham as he narrowed his eyes. “Ask me how was my day;” he then muttered as he glared at his wife as though he wanted to eat her.

“How was your day?” asked Hillary as she rested the syrup on her lap.

“It was fine;” told Graham as he felt stiff anger rake up his spine. “I will be fine;” he added.

Hillary smiled and she wiped a tear from her right eye.

“I am glad!” she gasped. “I am glad;” she added.

Graham glared at Hillary as she began to sob, he thought it queer however he bothered to investigate the reason.

“Hillary, why are you crying?” he questioned with some reserve.

“For a moment you looked dead;” she muttered as her worries fluttered inside of her heart. “And I worried for you;” she added.

“Worry no more;” told Graham. “I am here to stay, that is all that matters;” he added before he opened his arms for Hillary to fall into until she felt sure that he was alive and was going to stay alive.