Can someone check out my flashback?

If you're wondering why I ask so many questions, it's because I have a paper due every week, sorry about that. This week, the focus is a flashback. This is mine.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re really afraid of toilets?” A large grin slipped onto Roger’s face, and laughter soon followed.

“Hey man, If you went through the traumatic experience I did, you would be afraid of them too,” said Zack. He was currently in the middle of devouring a leftover steak, and a conversation that started out about a monster truck rally had oddly drifted into this.

“Come on, don’t be such a baby. It’s just a lump of plastic that makes a cool sound. How bad can it be?”

Zack rolled his eyes. “Do you really want to know?”

Roger slammed his binder shut.“Sure, I have all night.”

Sighing, Zack proceeded. “Well, here it goes”

* * *

Zack had been thirteen at the time, and he was at home with his dad. His dad had contracted a terrible illness that had included all of the best symptoms: throwing up, nausea, headaches, weakness, sore throat, and throwing up. The thought of involuntarily up-chucking everything that just happened to be in his stomach made him want to throw-up—again. It didn’t matter who the person was: his best friend, parents, or teachers; they all became public enemy number one. Zack had barricaded himself up in his room, pushing his dresser against the door. This had been the second straight day he had locked himself in heret, relying on some old bags of chips as his only food source. Being in his room never bored him. It was full of posters, participation trophies from the sports he played, and a bunch of other knick knacks. But still, eating molded Doritos isn’t the most enjoyable meal, but he knew the risks. He had everything planned out, from beginning to end: Lock himself up here,eat some of the old food, and come out only after being convinced the whole house is sanitary. But there was only one problem: his plan didn’t include a bathroom. Twitching and fidgeting, he started sorting out his options. He could either risk going out of the only true, clean environment in the house and into the bathroom. Alternatively, he could just wing it and do it right now. Still fidgeting, he sat back on his bed and contemplated his two scenarios. Each had their own specific strengths and faults. But he would have to decide and decide fast; there wasn’t much time left.

After some careful thinking, and about an hour or two, he decided to quickly go out to the bathroom, and get out of there as fast as possible. He grabbed a tube of wet wipes and moved out of his safe room. His dad was sleeping on the couch, completely still. Zack subtly slid on his socks. If he awoke his dad, he might go into the bathroom. He might just wait for Zack to get out. Or he might just barge in and throw-up all over him. Zack stuck his tongue out and shook his head. The bathroom door didn’t have any locks, so that would make scenario number two quite possible. There wasn’t anything to barricade the door with. He closed the it, with nothing left to do but sit on the toilet and pray.

No matter what the circumstance, the feeling of getting out what you’ve been holding in for two days is always relieving. Everything seemed to be going fine, until Zack heard a noise; a stomping sort-of sound. It was soft, but progressively got louder. The blood ran from Zack’s stomach. He knew he had to move and fast. It would only be a matter of time before his dad pulled the door open and spit the stomach bug all over him. He struggled to go any faster. The sound was getting closer, and closer, and closer, until he realized that someone was coming up the stairs. Before he could even react, the door flew open, with a pale man behind it; his dad. His cheeks had expanded and his hand was placed on his mouth. His mouth looked like it was overflowing and there was a brownish substance dripping onto his hand. It was like he didn’t even notice there was a person sitting there. He blew fragments of food, stomach acid, and many different types of bacteria, all colored a delightful green-brown, onto Zack’s lap, torso, and body. That’s all he remembered before passing out.

***

“So now you’re afraid of toilets because your dad threw-up on you while you were sitting on one?” asked Roger.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Pathetic.”

Zack upped his left eyebrow. “Has someone ever thrown-up on you while you were helpless and defenseless?”

“No.”

“Good, then today’s your lucky day.”

Zack moved his finger to the back of his throat, and spilled the steak.

1 Answer

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  • 8 years ago
    Favorite Answer

    This is almost a flashback, but not really. This is a summation of what Zack says. A true flashback would be Zack seeing the toilet and acting nervous. Then a break and the toilet story, then cut back to Zack saying he's going out into the woods to pee.

    (By the way, this is a very creative idea, and you put sentences together really well. I would do 2 things with the flashback section. 1. Cut the word count about in half. 2. Make more paragraphs. But overall, very good.)

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