Shattered

1: Maybe He Needs A Hug

Shattered by VivaLaPotter

Chapter 1: Maybe He Needs A Hug

  The living room was bland but costly. In front of a exceedingly large plasma television set were two leather couches, each large enough to seat seven. There was nothing on the walls, except for the occasional mirror. There were no photographs to be seen anywhere. Even on the desktop computer in the east corner, the screen showed just a field of green. The place looked more like a rental home than anything. It was not a place one could easily call home.

  But for Bradley Worthington, things were hardly ever easy. 

  It was nearing November, and it was bare and ugly outside.The streets below were loud, as tired workers honked their horns, eager to get home. 

  Bradley shook his head, aggravated, and emerged from his bedroom. It was normally relaxing and unnoticeable when the sounds of the city traveled up to him, but his head was hurting, and all he wanted to do was get some sleep.

  He closed the curtains, flooding the penthouse with darkness. Slouching onto a couch, he clapped his hands twice, and there was light from the crystal chandelier in the dining room, as well as a nearby lamp.

  He groaned loudly, as he heard more traffic. The curtains seemed to have not done the job he was hoping they would. Moaning a sort of whale song, he stood up from the couch and wandered toward the bathroom. He fumbled through the medicine cabinet, and opened the bottle of Advil. He took three from it, and grabbed a bottle of sherry from the kitchen. He swallowed the pills, and returned to the couch.

   Normally, he would have had Cecelia do all this for him, but she had already gone. He was completely alone until the first of December. 

  It was horrible, in his opinion. Why would someone want to spend that long with their family? He smirked. Cecelia would come crawling back to him for sure. No one could survive without him for that long. She adored him, did she not? No, he had nothing to fear. He predicted she would be back before Thanksgiving.

  He dozed off and on on the couch; his head feeling better each time he did so.

  The sky was darkening now, and the traffic had died down. Yawning, Bradley got up and opened the curtains a bit.

  The doorbell rang, and he jumped slightly. Hardly anyone came to see him, unless for an important reason. Feeling panicky, he buttoned his suit coat, flattened his tie, and fixed his hair with his fingers. 

  He grasped the doorknob, and opened it slowly; a fake smile plastered on his face.

  "Trick or treat!" 

  He stepped back and looked down. Why on earth was there a cowgirl, a Harry Potter, and a pirate outside his door? 

  "What do you want?" he asked, out of pure confusion.

  The cowgirl trembled, and looked expectantly at Harry.

  "It- it's Halloween, sir," said the child.

  "And?" said Bradley, tapping his foot.

  "You're supposed to give us candy, fathead," said the pirate. His eyes were bored, and around his lips, was a purple juice stain.

  Taken aback by the childish insult, Bradley laughed.

  "Sorry, don't have any," he said, rolling his eyes. He was definitely not sorry, as he made to slam the door in front of the kids. Why were they not with an adult, anyway?

  The pirate's foot stopped the door from slamming, and he made a low remark of pain.

  "Look, mister, just give us some candy!" said the pirate, as Bradley was forced to reopen the door.