The Leather Red Box

"The Leather Red Box" is a dark psychological fiction piece exploring trauma, survival, and quiet revenge. Written as a spec piece to showcase my range as a fiction and scriptwriter.

I was 6 when my first tooth fell out. On that day, I didn't cry at all. People said I lacked emotions — that I was probably a psychopath. Growing up, I got picked on a lot. Kindergarten, preschool, high school. Now I'm all grown up and I became a therapist. All thanks to Vern, of course.

Who's Vern? Well, all I know is he bullied me my whole life. Oh, and he's dead too.

I remembered my mother giving my sister a gold chain with a pearl attached to it and giving my brother a watch that their grandfather used to wear. What did my mother give me? She gave me a medium rectangular leather red box and told me not to open it until the feeling was gone. What feeling? Why did I even get a box I couldn't open?

I was too eager. I opened it that same day.

To my surprise, inside was a pen with random letters carved all over it. The moment I lifted it from the box, my feet felt heavy — like I was locked in place. I held it closer and it was as if I was drawn to it, pulled by something I couldn't name.

Days passed. So did my mother, taken by cancer, leaving my brother, my sister and me behind. I was still being bullied, still hadn't found the confidence to stand up for myself. Getting pushed around, stomped on, gum and food thrown in my hair, cigarette burns pressed into my skin — all by one person. Vern. He moved in a group of six and over time they kept disappearing, one by one. He ruined me in ways I still can't fully explain. But I never let it bury what I wanted to become. And that's what made me a therapist.

"Good morning. I'm honored that you're here today."

"Good morning. I'm hoping this will help me moving forward."

"Don't worry — you're in good hands. Completely."

"I'm sorry to ask, but you look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Oh, me? I don't think so. I just have one of those faces."

I took out the pen my mother had gifted me. I listened as the client poured out his problems, every word, every confession. At the end of the session I looked down at my notepad. I had only written two things.

Vern. Pop.

I watched him exit the building and cross the street. A knock at my door pulled my attention — a coffee order. I sat behind my desk, the pen still in my hand, the street outside filling with screams and chaos.

I looked down at what I had written and slowly mimicked the motion with my lips.

"Pop."

I developed the concept from a single visual prompt (the leather red box itself) and built outward: character backstory, emotional arc, and a structure that keeps the reader unsettled from start to finish. Drafting happened in Google Docs, with notes captured on the fly, and visual assets created in Canva for presentation.

Strong command of dark, psychological tone

Character-driven storytelling with emotional complexity

Ability to build tension and sustain it across a full narrative arc

Clean, polished prose ready for editorial or production use