Writing Prompt 25

[writersprite]

Think about the person [or character] you dislike the most.

Now write a story that explains why they are the way they are.

No more than 600 words.
!thumbsup!



For a cyber cookie pie use the following:
riot
pesto
lame
traitor
nestle

[Tommie Lyn]

This piece is not about the character I dislike most, but is, instead, about the villain I disliked first: Latharn Campbell, antagonist in my first novel, in whom I once saw no redeeming features. My animosity toward Latharn was deep and far-reaching. But as I got to know and understand him, my pity for him came to outweigh my anger at him -- he had no chance to be other than what he was.




The Making of Latharn Campbell: Villain
Word Count: 486

Five-year-old Latharn Campbell watched, his eyes stretched wide, as his father slapped the cottar across the face.

"You traitor! You'll do as I tell you from now on!" his father thundered. "With no argument!"

The cottar raised a trembling hand to his reddened cheek, opened his mouth but made no reply. He shifted from one foot to the other uneasily, as though he feared further violence and wished to run from it.

"Now go!" Eachann Campbell shouted, and the cottar slunk away, shoulders drooping, feet dragging.

Eachann's breath came rapid and shallow as he stared after the man he'd assaulted. Lathan knew it would take time for his father to calm himself. He'd witnessed other incidents like this one, and he stood at his father's side, silent and still, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

At last, Eachann drew a deep breath, straightened his clothing and looked down at his son. "You can't let servants get away with anything, son. You'll never get anywhere with them if they regard you with contempt, if they think you're weak."

The next morning, Fiona, the lame cleaning woman, couldn't find Latharn's favorite toy, a carved pony his father had bought in Edinburgh. Latharn wanted that toy, and as the continued search for it proved unfruitful, his anger mounted.

"Where's Pesto? I want my pony!" he shouted. He stamped his foot and began to scream wordlessly as Fiona limped around, lifting cushions, looking behind chests and cabinets. Tears coursed down his cheeks and he ran behind Fiona and began pounding at her with balled up fists. "You find Pesto! Find him now!"

Fiona tried to ward off the blows while she searched, her eyes narrowed in anger, jaws tight and teeth clenched. There was nothing she could do to stop the boy. The father would allow no correction of his son, had always watched his son's tantrums with an amused detachment.

"Maybe you'd like to play with your toy soldiers." Fiona offered a tin form dressed in a coat of red.

Latharn grabbed the soldier and flung it against the wall, ran to it and stomped it. "No! I want my pony!"

Fiona spotted the toy under the bed and pulled it out. "Ah, here it is, here's Preston." She handed it to Latharn and turned to leave the room, had to slip around Eachann, who stood in the doorway, watching as Latharn clutched the beloved pony, wiping his eyes and snuffling.

Latharn's frustration subsided and he noticed his father for the first time, saw the big smile on his father's face.

"I - I wanted my pony," Latharn said, his voice broken by convulsive snubbing.

"And you got it, didn't you, my son,” Eachann said as he swung Latharn into his arms. “You're going to be a strong, powerful man. I'm proud of you."

Latharn gave his father a charming smile and nestled onto Eachann's broad shoulder.

[Ink Blot]

Wow - awesome tone to the story, Tommie Lyn. The tension was very tangible as I read it.

[writersprite]

Wow, TL. That was stupendous. It's going to be hard to compete against that one! I still do plan on participating in my own Writer's Prompt! I promise....I've just been on a roll with my alt. reality fic.

[Azariah]

I'd join in, but I'm a bit too moody right now for a subject matter like this. Good idea though. :)

[Tommie Lyn]

Thanks, Ink Blot and Writersprite.