Legos

📅 Published on May 13, 2021

“Legos”

Written by N.M. Brown
Edited by Craig Groshek and Seth Paul
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available

ESTIMATED READING TIME — 7 minutes

Rating: 9.00/10. From 4 votes.
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I really, really hate Legos.  Their little nubs and sharp corners fit perfectly right into the center of the bottom of your foot, causing a stabbing agony that lingers for the rest of the day with every step.  I’d hoped I was done with them after raising my kids, but unfortunately, fate had other plans.  One careless, deadbeat daughter with an unwanted baby on the way later, and my wife and I found ourselves parents to a newborn again.

My grandson Adam and I wake up 45 minutes late this morning.  The very first thing I see upon opening my bedroom door is a hardwood minefield of discarded Legos in the hallway.  I step over most of them gingerly, but my impatience with getting a move on gets the best of me.  The second to last Lego impales the arch of my foot, assaulting my nerve endings with a lightning bolt of pain.

Through gritted teeth, I wake Adam up and help him rush to get ready for school.  I prepare the coffee maker and get all the way to the last step when I mournfully realize I’m out of drinking water.  My little buddy gets on his bus, I get in my car and we go our separate ways for the day.

I grab a lukewarm, unsatisfying cup of coffee at a drive-thru café and continue to drive to work.  Things should all be better once I get there.  That promotion is as good as mine.  I’ve already started spending my sign-on bonus.  I’ll be so happy and proud to tell my boy that his Grandpop got the job.

He deserves a better life and nice things.  He barely ever asks me for anything and is so appreciative, even at his young age, of every gift he receives.  I think I’m going to take him to the theme park two towns over that he loves.  We’ve only been able to go once, and it rained the whole day.  He loved it, though.  My boy smiled ear to ear through the whole park, wetter than a drowned rat but as happy as a June bug.

I pull into the parking lot and walk inside the building.  My confidence soars with every slightly pained step forward that I take towards the conference room.  It looks like most of the office is already inside.  Quite a few heads turn my way to greet me with warm smiles as I take my seat at the conference table.

“Alright, everyone.  Now that Reinhardt’s here, we can get on with business.”  He gives me a wink of camaraderie after saying my last name.  I take the subtlest of deep breaths as I mentally prepare myself for a victorious acceptance platitude.  I need to be prepared to humbly respond to the impending promotion announcement.  After fifteen, arduous years, I would finally be getting the recognition I deserve.

My boss continues.  “As you are all aware a promotion became available last month.  After carefully going over performance reviews and customer satisfaction rates, we’ve finally chosen the perfect candidate.  Please give a warm welcome to your new assistant director…” I rise to my feet and brush off the sides of my suit jacket as the name falls from his lips into the atmosphere.  “…Stewart Brown.”  A middle-aged man in the back of the room also has risen to his feet and with an accomplished, proud smile on his face.

My hands unconsciously come together and start clapping to join the others in the room.  I force a thin smile across my lips as my eyes meet Stewart’s, I give a congratulatory nod.  My feet guide me in betrayal as I find myself walking towards him.  I shake his hand with as much positivity as I can muster, secretly loathing that this man got the job that should have rightfully been mine.

As soon as it’s time for my lunch break, I step outside to call my wife.  I really need her loving voice right now.  The sinking fear that she will leave me for my shortcomings nags at my mind.  She’s not that kind of woman, though.  It’s just the voice in my head, the voice that I never want to listen to but is the one that never goes away, only popping up when I’m feeling my highest, or lowest.  Talking to my wife always makes me feel better.  I love her so much.

Her phone rings only once, and then directs me to voicemail.  I dial the number again, seeking the much-needed relief that her presence always gives me.  However, the result is the same.  I decided to call her on her work line, figuring she was just getting back from her break by now.  This time a woman’s voice answers on the third ring.  “Thank you for calling Harper and Stone Realty Office!  This is Sherrie.  How can I help you today?” Confused, I answer her.  “Uhh… yeah.  Hi, Sherrie.  May I please speak to Anna Reinhardt?  This is her husband, Gerald.”

For a moment, only silence greets me on the other end of the line.  Finally, Sherrie answers, her voice small and dripping with wariness.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Reinhardt, I hate to be the one to tell you this.  Anna hasn’t worked here for the past two weeks.  She got some paperwork mixed up that caused us to lose an extremely large sale.  We had no choice…unfortunately, she had to be let go.”  I murmur a thank you and dejectedly hang up the phone.

A million sharp needles impale my temples with the first signs of an oncoming migraine.  I’ve suffered from them for the past few years.  They are heavily aggravated, if not solely caused, by stress.  Of all the things that I’ve encountered today this is truly the last thing I need.  My foot throbs with pain with every step I take back towards my office.

The workday drags on and it seems to take forever to end.  When it does, I am only too relieved to leave the building and start my commute home.  My wife and I have a lot to talk about with her lying about still working at her job.

Caught up in the eagerness of arriving home, I almost forget to stop and get milk and eggs from the grocery store.  I want to make my grandkid a warm breakfast tomorrow, to make up for the shitty pop tart he ate in his rush to be on time this morning.  The lines aren’t too long, and I’m in and out in under 20 minutes.  The pain in my temples starts to ease.  Something finally seems to be going my way.  Thank God, too.  I was about to lose it.

My feet shuffle out into the parking lot.  Suddenly the eggs fall to the ground…followed by the sound of twelve fatal cracks.  Right there, not thirty feet away from me is my car.  Someone had decided to relocate my mirror for me as well as put a very large, decorative dent in my driver’s-side door.  How fucking nice of them!  The full force of my migraine hits like a tidal wave against the white pavement as I stumble closer to assess the damage.  The pain in my foot has increased in intensity enough to cause a slight limp at this point.

On closer inspection, I now see it’s not a dent on my door but a huge gash.  There’s no way that’s going to buff or pound out.  Maybe there’s a note?  Nope, of course not…that would have been too easy, right?  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.  Murphy’s Law is having its way with me today, and without a prophylactic to boot.  My mind feels like a thin wire stretched to its very limits, any little event causing it to snap.

An empty driveway greets me when I arrive home.  No surprise there, I guess.  Anna still has an hour before she’s due home from wherever it is that she’s going that’s not work.

I exit my car just in time to see my boy get off the school bus.  His little face wears a look of consternation as he sets his book bag down inside and flops on the couch.  First grade’s tough on him, I guess.  He looks like a little man who just had the same kinda day that I did at work today.

After dinner I take him upstairs to get ready for a bath.  He absolutely hates them, and I find myself once again trying to mentally prepare for an unfortunate situation.  I hear the cordless phone start to ring and close my eyes with discouragement as I remember I left it downstairs.  My guy’s a big boy but certainly not old enough to be left unsupervised near a tub filling rapidly with water.  So, I let it ring.  If it’s important, the machine will get it.

I hear Anna’s voice on the recorded greeting and the telltale beep.  “Hey, honey!  I am soooo sorry but I’m gonna be super late coming home tonight.  Things got crazy today at work with this new housing development and I have to stay late to catch up.  I have no idea how long it will take.  Don’t wait up, okay?  I’ll wake you up when I get home.  Can’t wait to hear about your promotion today!  Love you!”

The words sink in and I feel my left eye start to twitch.  Before long it feels like half of the side of my face is quaking with misfiring nerve endings.  Adam comes out of his room, hears the water and starts to wail in protest.  My head feels like it’s being split in two.  It’s agonizing to keep my eyes open, and the now excruciating pain in my foot reverberates with every heartbeat.

I woke up late, stepped on a Lego, had to rush to leave the house, didn’t get the promotion today, my wife has been lying to me for two weeks about work, someone smashed the side of my car, I have a migraine from hell, the house is a mess, my wife is out somewhere unknown till an unknown time, Adam is screaming, and my foot hurts.

Adam’s tantrum reaches a new pitch that shoots a shock of pain into my cerebellum like a bullet.  I tell him to calm down and stop but he won’t lower his wailing enough to hear me.  I plead with him, hot tears pricking my eyes to stop, to please be quiet for Grandpop for just a minute.

I turn to take a step into the hallway towards him and my peripheral vision blurs with white light.  It takes about two seconds for the pain to register that I have stepped on yet another Lego, this one a sharp piece to a mountain top, effectively puncturing the skin of my foot and drawing blood in the process.  My eyes widen and my hands fly out to steady myself.  My arm comes into contact with a solid force long enough to regain my bearings.

I woke up late, stepped on a Lego, had to rush to leave the house, didn’t get the promotion today, my wife has been lying to me for two weeks about work, someone smashed the side of my car, I have a migraine from hell, the house is a mess, my wife is out somewhere unknown till an unknown time, Adam is screaming, and now…my foot really fucking hurts.

My head…my foot…the damn Legos.

I stepped on a Lego.  The hallway was full of Legos.  We woke up late this morning…we rushed to leave the house…

The hallway was full of Legos…we woke up late this morning…we rushed to leave the house… I stepped on yet another damned Lego…my foot is bleeding…my hands fly out to steady myself.

The hallway…was full…of Legos…we woke up late this morning…we rushed to leave the house…I stepped on yet another damned Lego…my foot is bleeding…my hands fly out to steady myself…my arm came into contact with a solid force…

And Adam’s body lays lifeless and broken at the bottom of the stairs.

Rating: 9.00/10. From 4 votes.
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🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available


Written by N.M. Brown
Edited by Craig Groshek and Seth Paul
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

🔔 More stories from author: N.M. Brown


Publisher's Notes: N/A

Author's Notes: N/A

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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

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