She lead him on all night; her shirt open just enough to play peek-a-boo with an impressive, tantalizing cleavage. Her lips glistened; open slightly as if wanting to whisper a naughty secret. Nina could almost taste his desire for her. It was what she did; make men want her. A sexual addiction? No, because not all of them got to enjoy her body. This was her way of having fun; feeling powerful. Using men.
Despite stealing Nina from his older brother, Preston loved being with her and didn't care who knew it (now). For the six months she had dated Tony, but made eyes at him, flirted shamelessly and when she finally broke it off with Tony, Nina swore it was because all she could think about was him; Preston. She was so beautiful and she just kept egging him on. He felt the hairs on his neck prickle when she leaned in to give him an unexpected peck on the cheek and press against him. His mouth watered at the thought of unbuttoning her shirt and tasting her skin. He fidgeted under the table while her hand slowly traced his knee, his inner thigh and finally reached for him under the table. He jumped, whacking his knee. She took his hand in hers and was wandering back; back to her knee, her thigh, up under the hem of her skirt. He marveled at her soft smile as she guided his hand, moving it for him exactly as she wanted. Her lips parted and smiled gently, privately.
"Nina" he leaned in whispering huskily feeling his face and skin grow warm. "We need to go. I want to take you home now." His eyes bore in to hers, flashing dark and hungry. Three months they had been formally seeing each other He had endured this teasing and seduction, not without pleasure, but he wanted her; all of her to himself; not just a clumsy romp in the back of a car like a couple of teeny boppers.
"Shhhh..." her brow furrowed with frustration at his interruption.
Preston pulled his hand away, resting it on her tense thigh. She opened her eyes and pouted.
"Someone will see..." he said quietly, glancing around at the almost empty bar.
She waved him off and sighed. "It's dark in here. No one is watching ... " She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. "Wanna try that again?" He was already nodding. "Orrrr do you wanna try something new?" She bit her lip. The blood in his body began to boil.
"I want to take you home." he said again.
She giggled and excused herself to the ladies room. He paid for their meals and sat back, trying to regain composure. He didn't WANT to be a horny teenager, but she sure made him feel like one. She came back quickly, leaning over him to show a little more of her breasts. She nuzzled his neck and sucked at his earlobe. "Yes, time to go." she teased and dropped her panties in his lap. Without another word, she strolled out to his car and waited for him to scramble after her. He clicked the locks. By the time he was in and fumbling with the keys and starting the engine, she had gotten in, scooted over and begun tugging at his shirt. He laughed and restarted the car grateful they no longer made that wretched screeching noise.
"Hurry Preston. I want you. " she whispered urgently. Her hand found his body agreeing with her wholeheartedly.
"I am. I am." he grunted. His body ached. "Let's go to my place." he was begging her between gulping stingy kisses.
"mmmm no. no. I'll give you directions. Drive." Everything she whispered to him, thundered in his ears.
He drove as carefully as he could while she did her best to keep him interested and occupied.
"Oh God Nina, you gotta stop. You're driving me crazy. I swear to Jesus, I'll wreck"
"No you won't. You don't want to miss the best part of our night." she laughed and sucked at his neck and shoulder. "Turn left Baby. We're here."
Preston slammed it in to park and grabbed for her. His mouth was forceful and hungry. He pulled at her shirt and tasted her body. He devoured the scent of her soap and relished the intoxication of drinking in her skin. His hands greedily roamed her body, cupping her legs, her buttocks. She kicked and pushed at his jeans muttering for him to get them off. This required him to pull away from her. When he did, she leaped from the car and dashed out in front of the lights.
For a moment he was stunned. "What the Hell?"
"Come on! Hurry up!" she hissed and beckoned. To encourage him, she took off her top and dropped it on the grass.
He bounded from the car and rushed to her almost bowling her over. His arms wrapped around her and lifted her to the hood of the car. Her knees parted and he clutched her to him. He jammed her skirt up passed her hips. She moaned, raking her fingers through his thick dark hair. He felt her push against him, craving the heat of her body as she began to move with him.
"Oh Nina" he whispered into her hair. "I love you."
Her body went limp. She made a noise as if she'd sprung a leak. Her voice became flat. "Get off."
He pulled away and cupped her jaw. "Didn't you hear me? I love you. I want to be with you like this every night." He tried to plant small playful kisses, confused by the sudden change in mood; fearful.
"No." her voice was tight; irritated. "You've ruined it. Everything. Get off. Put on your pants for Christ's sake and take me back." She wiggled around him and angrily slammed her shirt over her head.
"What happened? What did I do wrong? Nina, we've been inseparable for three months and I waited for you, patiently for a lot longer. I don't understand why you are so angry..."
"Just shut it Preston. It's over. Take me back to my car..." she reached for the handle but Preston clicked the fob.
"No. No you don't. Not tonight. I'm through playing these games Nina. Talk to me. Help me underst..."
"SHUT UP!" she snapped, turning on her heel to face him. She stepped close to him, almost up under his nose and began to berate him. "I don't want to TALK to you Preston. I don't want to LOVE you Preston. I don't want to be your girl every NIGHT Preston! What we had was fun and uncomplicated. You screwed it all up. I don't want to be ANYONE'S every night."
"Nina..." he was pleading almost panicked. "What are you saying? You said you wanted to be with me. You said it all the time you were with Tony... Explain this..."
She slapped at him as if he were a bug. "Get OFF. I don't want to be with you. I don't want to be with Tony. It's all just in fun. Keep it fun, Preston. You say you love someone and it all goes to Hell and it's ruined. You've ruined everything we had Preston..."
His jaw dropped. His arms went slack. "Everything we HAD? According to you that everything is nothing and it's the whole point."
A biting sarcastic smile crept in to the corners of her mouth. "Exactly." she folded her arms defiantly. "Now I know who the smart one of the family is." her laugh was bitter and cruel.
Preston curled his lips in and closed his eyes. "You Bitch." and before he could stop himself, his hand snatched at her throat. He gritted his teeth and with each grind of his jaw, each thought of her callous, selfish behavior he tightened his grip. At first she laughed. But as the air ran out, she struggled and clawed at him, dug her nails into his hands but he never even noticed. He only remembered the arguments he'd had with his brother; the awful words spoken. A relationship in tatters over this... "woman".
"YOU shut up." he hissed and shook her violently. There was a "pop" like a Ziploc bag filled with air had been pinched. Nina stopped fighting. She stopped laughing, arguing. She stopped everything.
Preston let her fall to the ground. He stared at her crumpled body. He was frightened by his disappointment that he had killed her. He found that he actually wanted her to suffer... more. This had been too easy of an exit. Then he began to think of what to do with her. He dialed the only person he could think of; Tony. In spite of being on shift, his brother said he would come.
Tony arrived and stood over the dead tramp. He kicked a little dirt up on her face and snorted or did he chuckle? Preston wasn't sure.
"Messy."
"Tony, I don't know what happened. She was ... it was..."
Tony raised his hand. 'I know. I tried to tell you. But I knew down deep you wouldn't listen. Not till you knew what kind of woman she REALLY was. I didn't believe Joe when he tried to tell me..."
"Joe?"
"Yep... she did it to me before she did it to you..."
"But you and Joe..." Preston's head swam with too many facts too fast.
"Yep."
"What'll we do?" Now Preston felt like a little boy again. He needed Tony to help him ... so he wouldn't get caught.
"Well, I already thought of that." and he dialed.
Not long after a third car arrived. Joe got out. They all looked at her. Their faces hard and hurt.
They dragged the body back in to the marsh and burned it in a very deep grave. when the sun was crawling up the horizon to get a better view, they separated with nods, tired grins, and clear stories.
The newspaper began prod when the real estate diva went missing.
"Is there a missing persons report Sheriff?"
"There is. We are doing everything we can to locate Nina Baxter."
"Are there any suspects?"
Tony looked up and directly at the reporter who had asked the question. "There are no significant leads at this time."
"What about a boyfriend?" someone yodelled from the back.
Mayor Joseph White leaned in and spoke. "I assure you all that Sheriff Jenkins is doing everything he can to put this community at ease and keep them safe."
"Is there a serial killer on the loose?" a more frightened voice barked.
"Not that we are aware but let's give our ME a moment to speak... Preston?"
The young man cleared his throat. His voice was dry, cracked. "I can tell you all that I haven't seen anything like this come through this town... ever. There are no similar cases to report. We don't even know if Ms. Baxter has been harmed. Perhaps she has just moved on..."
The reporters began to clamber, but the unHoly Trinity quickly closed the press conference and went on with their days. Case closed.
Not too shabby if I do say so myself. I liked this one; a little zippy and a little twisted... gotta love it. Well at least smile and nod. One down and one to go.
Thanks so much for stopping by and hanging out. You're good company.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Hello My Lovlies.
I should know better. Today I have created a writer's triangle and am trapped between two stories so I have nothing to post. I am happy with their progress but need a little more time.
I hope you had a great weekend. Let's plan on visiting later in the week and catching up.
Thanks so much for coming over to visit, your company is always great.
I should know better. Today I have created a writer's triangle and am trapped between two stories so I have nothing to post. I am happy with their progress but need a little more time.
I hope you had a great weekend. Let's plan on visiting later in the week and catching up.
Thanks so much for coming over to visit, your company is always great.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Monsters
DAY 1
My step-dad is a monster. A real bad one, so Mom and I had to leave; up and leave in the night like WE were the ones doing all the wrong things. We are away now though. A clean start she says. But just to be safe, we both go to a nice lady and sit on her "thinking couch". Mom cries a lot. She's a three tissue grabber. I just listen and shrug sometimes. I'm doing like they said; think. I think about the hitting and the breaking. I think about the screaming and the crying. I think about silence. I think silence is pretty cool. Some days I think I would like silence all the time.
DAY 24
Dr. Stevens ... Lois. She lets me call her Lois. No adult has ever let me do that. She had a daughter my age too once. She was like us once. But she picked herself up and now she helps other moms and daughters do the same. Mom and I have a new little house thanks to her. We have separate rooms and even are learning to stay in them at night. Well, no more monsters come to chase us together. Its strange to go to bed and wake up there. I'm used to waking up in a hospital or stuffed in the box in the closet with my punishment dress. I used to tell myself that it was just time to play Cinderella. I wonder if Cinderella ever got hit with the broom she used until the black stars came and let her sleep. Those pages must've been torn out. Ya think? At least I learned there is safety in silence; kinda like no news is good news?
DAY 60
Lois says I should make this journal and read it to her or let her read it since I have trouble verbalizing. Verbalizing... I just don't want to talk about it. If we are starting over then it is without Glenn. Why would I want to talk about him two days a week? I'd be pullin out more than three tissues I can tell ya that. He was .. a dick. I know I'm not supposed to use words like that, but Lois says she won't tell. She tells me that she knows I've heard words like that and for my "tender age" (haha tender... nothing in my life has been tender) of twelve I have seen and known too much heartache. She's like a friend... but older. Sometimes she even seems to know what I'm thinking or feeling. She must be pretty damn smart. I bet she was a great mom.
DAY125
So Lois and I make our own appointments now. Mom still goes and tells me she is down to two tissues so that means progress. Once she didn't use any. Nice. Lois is great. She lets me say whatever I am feeling and some days that is pretty fuckin harsh. (sorry Lois... I will highlight the bad stuff so you can skim it-:) ) I have a lot of complex feelings to sort out. (As you know.) I never thought about being angry with my mom for letting it all happen. I guess, Lois, I did at some point. Maybe you're right and it's why I can't cry yet. I know that bothers her. You. I know it bothers you Lois. I know you wish I spoke to you more. I'm trying. Just please be patient. I think we should keep things like they are. I like my school I like the friends I am making because they don't know. Don't HAVE to know. I sleep well most nights but sometimes I hear things in the house. I suppose you are right and it's my imagination inserting Glenn back into my life. I guess it's true that things are good and when they are good, I am used to it going very very bad so I am recreating those feelings. Maybe you're right Lois. Or maybe our house is haunted. I should look it up. What will we do if it is? Do you like ghosts? That would be a topic I could talk about a lot. ;) -hint hint?
DAY 175
I am happy today Lois as you are very aware. You trusted me like you have asked me to trust you. You showed me pictures of your lovely but lost daughter. I am sad for your broken heart. How did she die? What was she like? I wish I could take that pain away from you like you have so kindly done for me. She was a beautiful girl. Bad things happen to good people; just like you say. And I believe you. You will see her again. You deserve that. Good things can happen too Lois. I know this because I have you. My mom has you. We have a new and better life: regular paychecks, bills that are paid. We even got to shop for food AND clothes and not have to hide them, feel bad for buying them OR be punished. Aside from our ghost, I am improving. We can talk about that later.
DAY 224
I am a little sad today. I am not sleeping well. There IS a ghost in the house Lois. Even Mom agrees. We hear the footsteps and see the doors open, like it's checking things out. At first I thought Glenn had been so sorry for all he'd done that he killed himself and was stuck haunting us until we forgave him. Crazy shit right? I don't think that anymore. I think it's a kid and is lonely and just wants to get to know us. I know that the house we lived in sat empty for a long time. Is that how you got us such a good deal ? If it is, I think it's still cool. Mom and I are okay and our "guest" isn't so bad. Just a little rowdy at night. I may have to take those meds you wrote for. I don't want to but I have to get some damn sleep. The library had to find the archives and said it will take some time. They are sending the papers to me.
DAY 280
I met our ghost, Lois. She came in to my room and she sat on my bed. I can't see her clearly; she looks like a cloud and smells like wet flowers; a little sweet but a little musty. Her name is Diana. She wants to be my friend and says that she has waited a long time for someone like me. She says she has been very sad and lonely for a long time. I know it sounds strange and I KNOW we will "delve into this a great lengths" as you always say. She means no harm Lois. Mom and I even talk to her during the day. We kind of hope that she will adjust to OUR time clocks. These all-nighters are a bitch. I'm beat tired at school. My friends are worried for me but I know I can handle it. I know you'll help me. And thanks for making that sweater. "Girl Power"? That's a little babyish for me (Powder Puff girls are waaaaay out) but I will still wear it ... on weekends or maybe to our appointments. I laid it out for Diana to see. Mom is talking about a new guy at work. Did she tell you that? I'm sure she did. She tells you everything just like me. Do you have her keep a journal? I haven't seen one and she hasn't mentioned it. I had to take one of the pills you wrote for. I don't know that I will do it again. They make me feel like I'm on a roller coaster but with no seat belt. I had a strange dream: Diana came and we went outside. There were candles and we sat and held hands. Then she told me she had a secret to share with me but couldn't yet because I wasn't old enough. I was mad at her and ran away. Then a huge wolf or a monster or something was chasing me but it still sorta looked like Diana. Mom says I have to stop watching scary movies at night. But I swear I wasn't. it was that stupid medicine. I know you say I just have to get used to them and let them work instead of fighting them... but ... I dunno Lois. I dunno.
DAY 364
My birthday! You remembered. Thank you Lois. Thank you for all you've been: a mother to me, a great friend and help to my now "no tissue" mom. Is she still bringing you boxes? I see her buy them and imagine they are for you. The dress is nice; a little old fashioned but lovely. I think you are right and we should go out and celebrate a whole year of success. Mom will bring Marc of course. He seems to be okay. He hangs back and I think the whole situation with Glenn keeps him at a distance. It's fine by me. I know you say I will one day let my walls down, but not just yet. Mom even makes sure he doesn't "spend the night" I think they are knockin boots but I can't see the evidence or hear any "misbehavin". Maybe he's taking it slow for mom's sake. He never stays. There is nothing of his in the house. It's still ours. Ours and Diana's. She is fine. ( i know you will ask) She has been very excited about my birthday too. She says it's almost time to share her big secret. I am excited and nervous. I will tell you when I find out. She says Thursday night. Our appointment isn't until Tuesday so you will have to be in suspense a little longer than me. Sorry. :( The meds help me sleep but mom says I am wandering around. She has caught mud on my sheets and my clothes have been messed up a couple of times. It makes me wonder about my dreams; I am always running around outside. Diana starts out nice but then something always goes wrong and I get this crazy-ass fear.. terror. Maybe, Lois, we need to delve. There are some other things I want to know too. But I guess I will have to ask on Thursday before my big surprise. Anyway Wednesday will be a Happy Birthday. Thank you.
DAY 366
Dear Lois,
I am furious. You are a manipulative bitch. Did you think I wouldn't find out? Did you think I couldn't put it all together? You are sick. I began to ask Diana about her life. I have been for a while- just not writing it here or telling you. Thank God. Then I began to study her facts. When the library archives came in, I almost pissed my pants. Diana is your daughter. She died in this house Lois. You used me as a substitute and a connection all at the same time. She laughed when I showed her your sweater; telling me she had loved them as a child. I thought it odd. I began to "delve". Those meds? Wow Nice touch. You even waited outside my house didn't you? The night of mud. YOU chased me. I won't be seeing you anymore. When I tell her, Mom and I are both going to file a complaint. We will bust this wide open and you will go to jail. Or to Hell. Either spot is good for someone... something like you. Diana has much to answer for as well. Mom and I will leave here. We have been through worse. You will not use us anymore.
Goodbye Lois.
DAY ONE
Dear Mother.
Forgive my scrawl. It has been so long since I have held a pencil in hand. Of course I will turn this journal over to you and you can destroy it. I just wanted to say hi and thank you; for the dress, for the sweater. When you and her mother brought her home she was just weak enough for me to take over; just as we have planned all this time. You were right. It just took patience. She has other diaries that I will read with my new bright eyes so I can learn her friends and her life. Her mother is wrapped up in... Marc? He was a nice touch. A great distraction to let me draw closer and you too. When will you reclaim him? That will surely send her over the edge. We won't be able to wait too long. Her suicide must come quickly or they will suspect. I see the pills are here and some are missing. She was taking them. The mother will be filled with grief. she won't be able to go on. Not like you. She isn't nearly as strong; as you, as us. Then of course you can keep me as your ward like we discussed. It all works. Wonderful job Mother. I love you and can't wait to hug you after all this time. Light the candles. I'm coming home.
Love,
Diana
It's a little rushed but I really liked the concept here. I liked the conversion though I think it could have been fleshed out a little; a little more in depth. I wanted to keep it vague enough to cause a furrowed brow in the reader. I hope you didn't TOTALLY see it coming. :) Thanks for stopping by to visit. I hope to see you soon.
My step-dad is a monster. A real bad one, so Mom and I had to leave; up and leave in the night like WE were the ones doing all the wrong things. We are away now though. A clean start she says. But just to be safe, we both go to a nice lady and sit on her "thinking couch". Mom cries a lot. She's a three tissue grabber. I just listen and shrug sometimes. I'm doing like they said; think. I think about the hitting and the breaking. I think about the screaming and the crying. I think about silence. I think silence is pretty cool. Some days I think I would like silence all the time.
DAY 24
Dr. Stevens ... Lois. She lets me call her Lois. No adult has ever let me do that. She had a daughter my age too once. She was like us once. But she picked herself up and now she helps other moms and daughters do the same. Mom and I have a new little house thanks to her. We have separate rooms and even are learning to stay in them at night. Well, no more monsters come to chase us together. Its strange to go to bed and wake up there. I'm used to waking up in a hospital or stuffed in the box in the closet with my punishment dress. I used to tell myself that it was just time to play Cinderella. I wonder if Cinderella ever got hit with the broom she used until the black stars came and let her sleep. Those pages must've been torn out. Ya think? At least I learned there is safety in silence; kinda like no news is good news?
DAY 60
Lois says I should make this journal and read it to her or let her read it since I have trouble verbalizing. Verbalizing... I just don't want to talk about it. If we are starting over then it is without Glenn. Why would I want to talk about him two days a week? I'd be pullin out more than three tissues I can tell ya that. He was .. a dick. I know I'm not supposed to use words like that, but Lois says she won't tell. She tells me that she knows I've heard words like that and for my "tender age" (haha tender... nothing in my life has been tender) of twelve I have seen and known too much heartache. She's like a friend... but older. Sometimes she even seems to know what I'm thinking or feeling. She must be pretty damn smart. I bet she was a great mom.
DAY125
So Lois and I make our own appointments now. Mom still goes and tells me she is down to two tissues so that means progress. Once she didn't use any. Nice. Lois is great. She lets me say whatever I am feeling and some days that is pretty fuckin harsh. (sorry Lois... I will highlight the bad stuff so you can skim it-:) ) I have a lot of complex feelings to sort out. (As you know.) I never thought about being angry with my mom for letting it all happen. I guess, Lois, I did at some point. Maybe you're right and it's why I can't cry yet. I know that bothers her. You. I know it bothers you Lois. I know you wish I spoke to you more. I'm trying. Just please be patient. I think we should keep things like they are. I like my school I like the friends I am making because they don't know. Don't HAVE to know. I sleep well most nights but sometimes I hear things in the house. I suppose you are right and it's my imagination inserting Glenn back into my life. I guess it's true that things are good and when they are good, I am used to it going very very bad so I am recreating those feelings. Maybe you're right Lois. Or maybe our house is haunted. I should look it up. What will we do if it is? Do you like ghosts? That would be a topic I could talk about a lot. ;) -hint hint?
DAY 175
I am happy today Lois as you are very aware. You trusted me like you have asked me to trust you. You showed me pictures of your lovely but lost daughter. I am sad for your broken heart. How did she die? What was she like? I wish I could take that pain away from you like you have so kindly done for me. She was a beautiful girl. Bad things happen to good people; just like you say. And I believe you. You will see her again. You deserve that. Good things can happen too Lois. I know this because I have you. My mom has you. We have a new and better life: regular paychecks, bills that are paid. We even got to shop for food AND clothes and not have to hide them, feel bad for buying them OR be punished. Aside from our ghost, I am improving. We can talk about that later.
DAY 224
I am a little sad today. I am not sleeping well. There IS a ghost in the house Lois. Even Mom agrees. We hear the footsteps and see the doors open, like it's checking things out. At first I thought Glenn had been so sorry for all he'd done that he killed himself and was stuck haunting us until we forgave him. Crazy shit right? I don't think that anymore. I think it's a kid and is lonely and just wants to get to know us. I know that the house we lived in sat empty for a long time. Is that how you got us such a good deal ? If it is, I think it's still cool. Mom and I are okay and our "guest" isn't so bad. Just a little rowdy at night. I may have to take those meds you wrote for. I don't want to but I have to get some damn sleep. The library had to find the archives and said it will take some time. They are sending the papers to me.
DAY 280
I met our ghost, Lois. She came in to my room and she sat on my bed. I can't see her clearly; she looks like a cloud and smells like wet flowers; a little sweet but a little musty. Her name is Diana. She wants to be my friend and says that she has waited a long time for someone like me. She says she has been very sad and lonely for a long time. I know it sounds strange and I KNOW we will "delve into this a great lengths" as you always say. She means no harm Lois. Mom and I even talk to her during the day. We kind of hope that she will adjust to OUR time clocks. These all-nighters are a bitch. I'm beat tired at school. My friends are worried for me but I know I can handle it. I know you'll help me. And thanks for making that sweater. "Girl Power"? That's a little babyish for me (Powder Puff girls are waaaaay out) but I will still wear it ... on weekends or maybe to our appointments. I laid it out for Diana to see. Mom is talking about a new guy at work. Did she tell you that? I'm sure she did. She tells you everything just like me. Do you have her keep a journal? I haven't seen one and she hasn't mentioned it. I had to take one of the pills you wrote for. I don't know that I will do it again. They make me feel like I'm on a roller coaster but with no seat belt. I had a strange dream: Diana came and we went outside. There were candles and we sat and held hands. Then she told me she had a secret to share with me but couldn't yet because I wasn't old enough. I was mad at her and ran away. Then a huge wolf or a monster or something was chasing me but it still sorta looked like Diana. Mom says I have to stop watching scary movies at night. But I swear I wasn't. it was that stupid medicine. I know you say I just have to get used to them and let them work instead of fighting them... but ... I dunno Lois. I dunno.
DAY 364
My birthday! You remembered. Thank you Lois. Thank you for all you've been: a mother to me, a great friend and help to my now "no tissue" mom. Is she still bringing you boxes? I see her buy them and imagine they are for you. The dress is nice; a little old fashioned but lovely. I think you are right and we should go out and celebrate a whole year of success. Mom will bring Marc of course. He seems to be okay. He hangs back and I think the whole situation with Glenn keeps him at a distance. It's fine by me. I know you say I will one day let my walls down, but not just yet. Mom even makes sure he doesn't "spend the night" I think they are knockin boots but I can't see the evidence or hear any "misbehavin". Maybe he's taking it slow for mom's sake. He never stays. There is nothing of his in the house. It's still ours. Ours and Diana's. She is fine. ( i know you will ask) She has been very excited about my birthday too. She says it's almost time to share her big secret. I am excited and nervous. I will tell you when I find out. She says Thursday night. Our appointment isn't until Tuesday so you will have to be in suspense a little longer than me. Sorry. :( The meds help me sleep but mom says I am wandering around. She has caught mud on my sheets and my clothes have been messed up a couple of times. It makes me wonder about my dreams; I am always running around outside. Diana starts out nice but then something always goes wrong and I get this crazy-ass fear.. terror. Maybe, Lois, we need to delve. There are some other things I want to know too. But I guess I will have to ask on Thursday before my big surprise. Anyway Wednesday will be a Happy Birthday. Thank you.
DAY 366
Dear Lois,
I am furious. You are a manipulative bitch. Did you think I wouldn't find out? Did you think I couldn't put it all together? You are sick. I began to ask Diana about her life. I have been for a while- just not writing it here or telling you. Thank God. Then I began to study her facts. When the library archives came in, I almost pissed my pants. Diana is your daughter. She died in this house Lois. You used me as a substitute and a connection all at the same time. She laughed when I showed her your sweater; telling me she had loved them as a child. I thought it odd. I began to "delve". Those meds? Wow Nice touch. You even waited outside my house didn't you? The night of mud. YOU chased me. I won't be seeing you anymore. When I tell her, Mom and I are both going to file a complaint. We will bust this wide open and you will go to jail. Or to Hell. Either spot is good for someone... something like you. Diana has much to answer for as well. Mom and I will leave here. We have been through worse. You will not use us anymore.
Goodbye Lois.
DAY ONE
Dear Mother.
Forgive my scrawl. It has been so long since I have held a pencil in hand. Of course I will turn this journal over to you and you can destroy it. I just wanted to say hi and thank you; for the dress, for the sweater. When you and her mother brought her home she was just weak enough for me to take over; just as we have planned all this time. You were right. It just took patience. She has other diaries that I will read with my new bright eyes so I can learn her friends and her life. Her mother is wrapped up in... Marc? He was a nice touch. A great distraction to let me draw closer and you too. When will you reclaim him? That will surely send her over the edge. We won't be able to wait too long. Her suicide must come quickly or they will suspect. I see the pills are here and some are missing. She was taking them. The mother will be filled with grief. she won't be able to go on. Not like you. She isn't nearly as strong; as you, as us. Then of course you can keep me as your ward like we discussed. It all works. Wonderful job Mother. I love you and can't wait to hug you after all this time. Light the candles. I'm coming home.
Love,
Diana
It's a little rushed but I really liked the concept here. I liked the conversion though I think it could have been fleshed out a little; a little more in depth. I wanted to keep it vague enough to cause a furrowed brow in the reader. I hope you didn't TOTALLY see it coming. :) Thanks for stopping by to visit. I hope to see you soon.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Happy Father's Day~
I really hope you all enjoy a special day filled with love and relaxation. It is hard to be a father; a dad; in this day and age of too many hours of things to do and not enough time to actually do them. That goes for both kids and adults alike. We are all always plugged in or running. I hope you got to spend less time doing both of those today.
Enjoy. I will see you early tomorrow. I am working on one now but ... I have a Dad to attend to.
:)
I really hope you all enjoy a special day filled with love and relaxation. It is hard to be a father; a dad; in this day and age of too many hours of things to do and not enough time to actually do them. That goes for both kids and adults alike. We are all always plugged in or running. I hope you got to spend less time doing both of those today.
Enjoy. I will see you early tomorrow. I am working on one now but ... I have a Dad to attend to.
:)
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Creepy-crawlies
So I backpack. Oh yes. I don "the nag" and she weighs about thirty pounds for a day hike and we wander around in the grass for hours. (My trail name is "Tink" since it is my bear bell you can hear clanking along if you do this too and look at the registers.) I climb river rock beds, cross rivulets, get lost and found and have a ball. Next year I plan to take on a portion of the Appalachian Trail. This year? My goal is fifty miles by the end of season and a two day full on through and around a glacial lake. I will surpass it and am really proud of myself. I am almost half way there.
But this passed weekend was the toughest. It was hot. I hiked a new set of trails out near where I will end, Bruce Lake. To get there requires a trek through some marsh. Did I mention it was 80 degrees? Marsh? Water? Skeeters? Ohhhh Holy Hannah! I looked like Pig Pen with a cloud just whining and shrieking around me. The trail is old, especially out at the park boundary so it is about a boot wide. I swung my walking stick to break the spider webs and reduce the number of sticky threads and eight leggers. I also learned I have to bang that stick to get said spiders off or ... they crawl up your arms. yuck.
I took on a lot. It was a five hour schlep. I had my camelback (water) and my trail mix and "powerballs" I was beat, tired, hot .. and just wanted to sit. I found a rock and decided i wanted to have lunch; maybe even a nap in the shade.
The mosquitoes wanted lunch too. As did the ultimate nemesis and evil doer of my short story; the ticks. I saw one, then another and another. I realized that to move was exhausting but to sit still was... horrible. I began to move. I had to climb MORE rocks, my ankles twisting and groaning. my hips, wrists and knees jamming to accommodate awkward crossings. it was endless. I wanted to cut in, to quit and cry. I was out of range. No signal. I had no option but to keep going. i was so tired that I almost misread a couple of trail markers or missed them all together. I scolded myself, uncertain if this was really for me. I scolded myself.
But I saw does and young fawn and I mean YOUNG: wobbly and all legs/knees/elbows. I saw an amazing HUGE hawk pick off a chipmunk from a log. I saw turkeys, peepers, snakes, and a millipede as long as the handle on my hiking stick. the breeze cooled me. I got my head right and finished. I finally got a signal and reached Cheech who came to get me.
I got home and went straight to my room to shower. Pulling off my clothes I saw it ~ them. I called to cheech trying to sound chipper and even.
"Please come upstairs."
He did and his jaw dropped. He all but pushed me down, stripped me bare and began pinching me. Pulling ticks. More than 30. I was almost in tears. I hate ticks like I hate bees. I quivered and shuddered and washed. and washed and washed and wash....
the stinging came next and I realized I had trudged through stinging nettles. I washed and washed and washed...
My legs began to stiffen, my muscles questioned my authority. I fell asleep only to dream of unstable rocks creating full body jerks... I have been dreaming of ticks. Ticks so thick they make my mattress soft and wait for me to lie down. Ticks getting in my eyes, ears, belly button... Ticks eating the kids, the toddlers and coming down the hall in stacks... for me.
It's going to be a couple of days before I recover. But make no mistake. I love what I'm doing (and have been) and I'm good at it. I'm an awesome map reader/navigator and apparently? A great snack. I have seen amazing things and proven to myself that I am (as Christopher Robin told Pooh):
Braver than I believe, stronger than I seem and smarter than I think
but ticks?
Ok... enough.Disgusting little bastards.
Thanks for popping in. I hope we can visit again soon.
But this passed weekend was the toughest. It was hot. I hiked a new set of trails out near where I will end, Bruce Lake. To get there requires a trek through some marsh. Did I mention it was 80 degrees? Marsh? Water? Skeeters? Ohhhh Holy Hannah! I looked like Pig Pen with a cloud just whining and shrieking around me. The trail is old, especially out at the park boundary so it is about a boot wide. I swung my walking stick to break the spider webs and reduce the number of sticky threads and eight leggers. I also learned I have to bang that stick to get said spiders off or ... they crawl up your arms. yuck.
I took on a lot. It was a five hour schlep. I had my camelback (water) and my trail mix and "powerballs" I was beat, tired, hot .. and just wanted to sit. I found a rock and decided i wanted to have lunch; maybe even a nap in the shade.
The mosquitoes wanted lunch too. As did the ultimate nemesis and evil doer of my short story; the ticks. I saw one, then another and another. I realized that to move was exhausting but to sit still was... horrible. I began to move. I had to climb MORE rocks, my ankles twisting and groaning. my hips, wrists and knees jamming to accommodate awkward crossings. it was endless. I wanted to cut in, to quit and cry. I was out of range. No signal. I had no option but to keep going. i was so tired that I almost misread a couple of trail markers or missed them all together. I scolded myself, uncertain if this was really for me. I scolded myself.
But I saw does and young fawn and I mean YOUNG: wobbly and all legs/knees/elbows. I saw an amazing HUGE hawk pick off a chipmunk from a log. I saw turkeys, peepers, snakes, and a millipede as long as the handle on my hiking stick. the breeze cooled me. I got my head right and finished. I finally got a signal and reached Cheech who came to get me.
I got home and went straight to my room to shower. Pulling off my clothes I saw it ~ them. I called to cheech trying to sound chipper and even.
"Please come upstairs."
He did and his jaw dropped. He all but pushed me down, stripped me bare and began pinching me. Pulling ticks. More than 30. I was almost in tears. I hate ticks like I hate bees. I quivered and shuddered and washed. and washed and washed and wash....
the stinging came next and I realized I had trudged through stinging nettles. I washed and washed and washed...
My legs began to stiffen, my muscles questioned my authority. I fell asleep only to dream of unstable rocks creating full body jerks... I have been dreaming of ticks. Ticks so thick they make my mattress soft and wait for me to lie down. Ticks getting in my eyes, ears, belly button... Ticks eating the kids, the toddlers and coming down the hall in stacks... for me.
It's going to be a couple of days before I recover. But make no mistake. I love what I'm doing (and have been) and I'm good at it. I'm an awesome map reader/navigator and apparently? A great snack. I have seen amazing things and proven to myself that I am (as Christopher Robin told Pooh):
Braver than I believe, stronger than I seem and smarter than I think
but ticks?
Ok... enough.Disgusting little bastards.
Thanks for popping in. I hope we can visit again soon.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Hush my baby
The house loomed at the back of the neighborhood; watching everyone suspiciously, as the crazed old woman who once lived there had. Frannie. Oh she wasn't always crazy. When she was young and had Frederick in her life, she was lovely, happy and fun. She adored him. Her long brown hair was kept nice and neat for him. Her green eyes sparkled at the thought of him. She always looked pretty; for him. Had a smile to share and a gentle thing to say to and about him. She worked hard for him (and most everyone) to never notice her bad leg from a childhood accident that left her to limp. No, she wasn't weak or willy-nilly like that. she worked hard to keep a good home and a happy man. She mooned over him and sought to satisfy his every whim. She just made the mistake of thinking he felt that way too.
Maybe he did when they first got married. Don't most people? That honeymoon phase is a powerful thing. But then, life happens. There is stress; jobs are lost and you don't tell. Children aren't born and you are grateful or are you disappointed? You feel trapped? She couldn't understand or you simply don't give her that much credit? You stop talking, sharing. There are more angry silences, hurt feelings. Emotional walls go up with resentment and blame as a thick unbreakable mortar and soon? Before you know it, there are strangers in the very bed where soul mates used to meet. Poor Frannie. She never saw it coming. She never noticed the late nights, the excuses. The attempts to comfort and soothe his troubled, furrowed brow were met with brush offs and shrugs.
It was an August afternoon; hot and muggy. People wandered in to town to share the sweaty misery of the weather and be mad at summer's lagging. Frannie was no different. She stopped in at Pop's Drug Store, so she could just cool off. He had the soda fountain and she was certain the fans would be buzzing almost as much as those who hovered around them like little bees. She stepped in and smiled, seeing she was right.She wandered over at perused the magazines. She wanted to catch up on the latest hair styles and make up for her Freddie. He seemed so preoccupied lately. Her mind drifted between the pages as she let the fan's tiny gasps share her excitement of the fall's new looks. She barely heard the conversation at the end of the counter. It was only Mabel, the town gossip. she loved to talk about EVERYONE; the favorite person being herself. Today was no different. She was ooo-ing and ahhh-ing over her new love. One of many in this long hot summer, Frannie guessed over the add for an oven that reduced cook time in half. Fabulous.
"... and he loves me. He loves me crazy. Can't wait to see me, makes ALL sorts of excuses to come and visit. Even for the tiniest things. His stupid little wifey never suspects, too dumb to question I guess. He eats dinner with me and says he works late. Well, he's been spending a lot of time with me since he lost his job. But he'll find something soon. My man is smart..."
"..if he really WAS smart, he wouldn't be hovering around your hive." Frannie thought to herself and smiled.
"He's just applied down at the repair shop in Smithville and once he gets accepted there, he'll leave his stupid wifey and we'll be together. He'll be closer to his momma anyway. She's gonna love me."
Smithville. It caused Frannie to almost fall down. It was where Freddie was from. Frannie teetered a little as the fan giggled in her ear; whispered for her to perk up and listen. She folded the magazine and stepped up to the counter. Mabel was still bragging.
"He said he never loved her. That after she didn't have a baby, he knew he didn't want to be with her.. Must be something wrong with her aside from that stupid old hobble..." Mabel took another swig of a thick shake Pop had made and laughed. He spied Frannie first and glanced at the counter with shame. Mabel didn't take the hint. She even went so far as to limp with the shake in her hand and snort. Frannie cleared her throat and peeked down the counter waiting to catch her eye. Mabel finally saw her and turned as white as the vanilla in her glass. Frannie thought she looked like she was trying to swallow a mouth full of marbles. Mabel shrugged and tried to regain her composure; daintily sipping from the straw. Frannie gave a small head tilt and walked out. Silence followed her out.
And Crazy followed her home. She made a wonderful dinner for Fred but he called to say he was working late. She let it sit in the oven uncovered and was glad to see it dry out and char. He wandered home late. And she caught the whiff of a different soap; or perfume. It didn't matter anymore. She asked him about his mother...his work... he grew angry and swatted her away carelessly. Then she asked about Mabel. He said he loved her and wanted to be with her. He said she would give him something he never had. Frannie gripped the kitchen knife and did the same.
"So just do it. Go in Frannie's old house and bring something out,you daredevil!" I nudged Bill hard in the shoulder after the ghost story. Jon and Tyler sat quietly in the brush, happy to not be part of the challenge. It was almost ten and we snuck out. Tonight of all nights. The tenth anniversary of the murder in our tiny town, when Frannie Gilmoure killed her husband in a jealous rage. Well, that was the story since he just just disappeared after that night. Frannie didn't show herself either. Most thought he had just run off ~ easier than divorcing OR staying with Mabel who quickly moved on to the next fellah and had a baby ... Frannie watched from the windows as life passed her by. Her leg got worse and she motored around in a wheel chair, dragging herself. Groceries were delivered to the door and left. If anyone dared to knock or visit they were berated angrily and threatened violently. The town let the house disappear behind a vail of weeds and speculation... and stories. The town whispered that the crazy old woman died about five years ago and they hauled her dried up corpse out in a hefty bag. Buried her in the back of the cemetery at the bend of Walton's creek. Unmarked. No one would go see her anyway.
Bill ran his hands nervously through his hair.
"Chicken?"
"Shut up."
"Your feathers are showin ~ BOCK BOCK"
"All RIGHT you homo!"
"Swear?"
Bill spit in his hand and held it out for me to take. I grinned, sealed the deal and hunched down next to the other two. "Okay. So go. Hurry up you pansy. Oh and no flashlight. don't want the cops to see you. You know Sheriff Baber will be lookin tonight of all nights."
Bill sighed warily and began the trek to the side steps. Front porch was out of the question. We listened to and watched as he disappeared.
"think he's comin out?" Jon whispered.
"I doubt he gets in." I couldn't help but snigger. "He'll high tail it and run all the way back to Mama, screamin like a little girl."
"I dunno. Your mama don't know you're out."
"Mine neither..." we fell silent and waited.
"See him?"
"He's almost there."
The porch groaned under his light step. At ten years old, Bill was handsome and nimble. Like his daddy, Mama always said. Bill didn' t know. His father wasn't around. His mom had a lot of "pals" as she liked to say. Most of the town had another few words for it.
He twisted the knob and felt rust grind in its long forgotten throat, but it gave. He was in. He was about to see inside a real murder scene. Crazy Frannie's house... He took a deep breath and willed his knees to help him in. He glanced once more at the tall grass where his friends were surely making fun of him. He thought vaguely of running back around behind them and scaring them all into pissing their pants but he had sworn to do this.
"Just grab something. anything and get the Hell out of here!" his mind was racing and hissing at him. But then curiosity got hold. the house smelled sweet and dry. The furniture was covered neatly. Bill peeked under the one on the table and discovered a couple of place settings. Was that food? Was this their last meal? Bill stepped in to the next room. Then the next. he was almost to the back of the house when he heard the creak of the floor board. Then his imagination told him something had crossed behind him in the doorway. Goosebumps confirmed it. But he refused to turn around; until it was too late. it was in the doorway. A small thick shadow. Bill stared, waiting for his eyes to adjust and show him it was a chair or a raccoon or.. anything other than what it was. Who it was.
Frannie.
She sat in a wicker back wheelchair. Her once luxurious brown hair so neat was now dry as straw and patchy; scattered with greys and whites. her eyes that were sparkling with love and mischief were now cloudy, almost gooey. Her lips looked like shed snake skin. Bones were skinny but the way she moved within her mobile throne, Bill knew she was quick and strong. it was as if she was revving up to pounce. Her bad leg dangled a short distance from the floor but her other tap-tap-tapped on the floor; like anyone waiting for an explanation that could never be accepted. Her tongue parted her lips as if she were going to speak. Bill heard a scratch like a cat's tongue. A raspy whisper; a laugh? He was unsure.
"I'm so very sorry Mrs. Gilmoure." he began. His eyes darted around looking for another way out. there was none but passed the small nut job in the wheelchair. "I didn't know you were home. I came here on a dare. To bring something out. Prove I was here. Are you a ghost?"
Now there WAS a laugh; hearty and vacant. She wiped at her eyes and held her belly. She tugged something from her lap; long and not so shiny but Bill knew what it was.
"No ghost boy. Very very real." She fixated her milky stare. "You're not wanted here. What's your name you filthy afterbirth?"
Bill was shocked. "Ma'am?"
"NAME!" she rattled and pulled herself quickly through the door within a foot or two of the terrified child.
"Bill."
"Bill, Bill...what a pill." she smirked and tugged closer. Her movements were strong though jerky with her one leg. the chair screamed with dust and age. "Well, step in to my parlor said the spider to the fly..." and she cackled again, wielding the blade to make sure he understood her intent.
"Just let me go Mrs. Gilmoure. It's just me and my mom. She don't even know I'm here. I'll go straight home and never say a word. I swear Mrs. Gilmoure. Just let me pass. I won't touch or take nothin. and I'll NEVER come back."
"That'd be right boy. Never." She pulled herself closer and stretched to get a bleary view of the intruder. She cocked her head and puzzled for a moment. "How old boy?"
"I'm ten and a half."
"Half." she chuffed.
"You and your mama?"
"Yeah."
"WHAT?" she thundered and jabbed at him.
"Yes Ma'am"
She sat back. "Who's your mama?"
"Miss Jeffreys."
The broken old woman in the chair sat up. A darkness seemed to encircle them. "what?" she whispered. "Jeffreys?"
"Yes Mrs. Gilmoure. Mabel --."
But he didn't get to say the rest. The old woman flew from her chair with a rusty screech, the knife slicing left and right. The boy backed up and cried out. He felt warmth and tearing. Out of her vehicle, she crawled with a sidewinder'sspeed jabbing, carving and grunting at the little boy always keeping herself between him and the door; safety. He tripped over a trash bin and fell on his back. Like a paper towel on a spill she was on him, pining him to the dirty floor.
"MY son. You were to be MY SON. MY gift to MY husband. NOT that whore who says you are hers... You should have been MINE" Each sentence brought a new slice. Bill stopped hearing her. He remembered his mother's laugh. Her perfume. He said he was sorry. And he was; for sneaking out. He fell asleep under a crimson blanket forever; surrounded by warmth, feeling his mother's arms...
Jon and Tyler and me went to Sheriff Baber on Sunday morning when Bill wasn't at church. We told the whole story. There was quite a parade of lights and sirens that morning. All the way to Crazy Frannie's house. We lead the way, but were not permitted to enter. Sheriff Baber did it. Then he whispered to Deputy Jones to get an ambulance. No one was meant to see. But I was standin just right. and there was my friend, my half brother, Bill Jeffreys all cut up and Crazy Frannie was holdin him, cradling him and singin a lullaby. Like he was her baby doll or somethin. Mama would never recover, I can't tell you how many nights she would just sit, holding herself and hum. I would kiss her and tell her to hush. It would be okay, but it just never was.
Sorry this was late, but I really think it's worth it. I loved it; writing and scaring the holy snot out of myself. it was a nightmare I had last week after watching, reading and researching some ghost stories. I know... I should know better by now. I hope it raised the hair on your arms and made you look back... just once. Thank you so much for coming over and hanging out. You're so much fun.
Until next time.
Maybe he did when they first got married. Don't most people? That honeymoon phase is a powerful thing. But then, life happens. There is stress; jobs are lost and you don't tell. Children aren't born and you are grateful or are you disappointed? You feel trapped? She couldn't understand or you simply don't give her that much credit? You stop talking, sharing. There are more angry silences, hurt feelings. Emotional walls go up with resentment and blame as a thick unbreakable mortar and soon? Before you know it, there are strangers in the very bed where soul mates used to meet. Poor Frannie. She never saw it coming. She never noticed the late nights, the excuses. The attempts to comfort and soothe his troubled, furrowed brow were met with brush offs and shrugs.
It was an August afternoon; hot and muggy. People wandered in to town to share the sweaty misery of the weather and be mad at summer's lagging. Frannie was no different. She stopped in at Pop's Drug Store, so she could just cool off. He had the soda fountain and she was certain the fans would be buzzing almost as much as those who hovered around them like little bees. She stepped in and smiled, seeing she was right.She wandered over at perused the magazines. She wanted to catch up on the latest hair styles and make up for her Freddie. He seemed so preoccupied lately. Her mind drifted between the pages as she let the fan's tiny gasps share her excitement of the fall's new looks. She barely heard the conversation at the end of the counter. It was only Mabel, the town gossip. she loved to talk about EVERYONE; the favorite person being herself. Today was no different. She was ooo-ing and ahhh-ing over her new love. One of many in this long hot summer, Frannie guessed over the add for an oven that reduced cook time in half. Fabulous.
"... and he loves me. He loves me crazy. Can't wait to see me, makes ALL sorts of excuses to come and visit. Even for the tiniest things. His stupid little wifey never suspects, too dumb to question I guess. He eats dinner with me and says he works late. Well, he's been spending a lot of time with me since he lost his job. But he'll find something soon. My man is smart..."
"..if he really WAS smart, he wouldn't be hovering around your hive." Frannie thought to herself and smiled.
"He's just applied down at the repair shop in Smithville and once he gets accepted there, he'll leave his stupid wifey and we'll be together. He'll be closer to his momma anyway. She's gonna love me."
Smithville. It caused Frannie to almost fall down. It was where Freddie was from. Frannie teetered a little as the fan giggled in her ear; whispered for her to perk up and listen. She folded the magazine and stepped up to the counter. Mabel was still bragging.
"He said he never loved her. That after she didn't have a baby, he knew he didn't want to be with her.. Must be something wrong with her aside from that stupid old hobble..." Mabel took another swig of a thick shake Pop had made and laughed. He spied Frannie first and glanced at the counter with shame. Mabel didn't take the hint. She even went so far as to limp with the shake in her hand and snort. Frannie cleared her throat and peeked down the counter waiting to catch her eye. Mabel finally saw her and turned as white as the vanilla in her glass. Frannie thought she looked like she was trying to swallow a mouth full of marbles. Mabel shrugged and tried to regain her composure; daintily sipping from the straw. Frannie gave a small head tilt and walked out. Silence followed her out.
And Crazy followed her home. She made a wonderful dinner for Fred but he called to say he was working late. She let it sit in the oven uncovered and was glad to see it dry out and char. He wandered home late. And she caught the whiff of a different soap; or perfume. It didn't matter anymore. She asked him about his mother...his work... he grew angry and swatted her away carelessly. Then she asked about Mabel. He said he loved her and wanted to be with her. He said she would give him something he never had. Frannie gripped the kitchen knife and did the same.
"So just do it. Go in Frannie's old house and bring something out,you daredevil!" I nudged Bill hard in the shoulder after the ghost story. Jon and Tyler sat quietly in the brush, happy to not be part of the challenge. It was almost ten and we snuck out. Tonight of all nights. The tenth anniversary of the murder in our tiny town, when Frannie Gilmoure killed her husband in a jealous rage. Well, that was the story since he just just disappeared after that night. Frannie didn't show herself either. Most thought he had just run off ~ easier than divorcing OR staying with Mabel who quickly moved on to the next fellah and had a baby ... Frannie watched from the windows as life passed her by. Her leg got worse and she motored around in a wheel chair, dragging herself. Groceries were delivered to the door and left. If anyone dared to knock or visit they were berated angrily and threatened violently. The town let the house disappear behind a vail of weeds and speculation... and stories. The town whispered that the crazy old woman died about five years ago and they hauled her dried up corpse out in a hefty bag. Buried her in the back of the cemetery at the bend of Walton's creek. Unmarked. No one would go see her anyway.
Bill ran his hands nervously through his hair.
"Chicken?"
"Shut up."
"Your feathers are showin ~ BOCK BOCK"
"All RIGHT you homo!"
"Swear?"
Bill spit in his hand and held it out for me to take. I grinned, sealed the deal and hunched down next to the other two. "Okay. So go. Hurry up you pansy. Oh and no flashlight. don't want the cops to see you. You know Sheriff Baber will be lookin tonight of all nights."
Bill sighed warily and began the trek to the side steps. Front porch was out of the question. We listened to and watched as he disappeared.
"think he's comin out?" Jon whispered.
"I doubt he gets in." I couldn't help but snigger. "He'll high tail it and run all the way back to Mama, screamin like a little girl."
"I dunno. Your mama don't know you're out."
"Mine neither..." we fell silent and waited.
"See him?"
"He's almost there."
The porch groaned under his light step. At ten years old, Bill was handsome and nimble. Like his daddy, Mama always said. Bill didn' t know. His father wasn't around. His mom had a lot of "pals" as she liked to say. Most of the town had another few words for it.
He twisted the knob and felt rust grind in its long forgotten throat, but it gave. He was in. He was about to see inside a real murder scene. Crazy Frannie's house... He took a deep breath and willed his knees to help him in. He glanced once more at the tall grass where his friends were surely making fun of him. He thought vaguely of running back around behind them and scaring them all into pissing their pants but he had sworn to do this.
"Just grab something. anything and get the Hell out of here!" his mind was racing and hissing at him. But then curiosity got hold. the house smelled sweet and dry. The furniture was covered neatly. Bill peeked under the one on the table and discovered a couple of place settings. Was that food? Was this their last meal? Bill stepped in to the next room. Then the next. he was almost to the back of the house when he heard the creak of the floor board. Then his imagination told him something had crossed behind him in the doorway. Goosebumps confirmed it. But he refused to turn around; until it was too late. it was in the doorway. A small thick shadow. Bill stared, waiting for his eyes to adjust and show him it was a chair or a raccoon or.. anything other than what it was. Who it was.
Frannie.
She sat in a wicker back wheelchair. Her once luxurious brown hair so neat was now dry as straw and patchy; scattered with greys and whites. her eyes that were sparkling with love and mischief were now cloudy, almost gooey. Her lips looked like shed snake skin. Bones were skinny but the way she moved within her mobile throne, Bill knew she was quick and strong. it was as if she was revving up to pounce. Her bad leg dangled a short distance from the floor but her other tap-tap-tapped on the floor; like anyone waiting for an explanation that could never be accepted. Her tongue parted her lips as if she were going to speak. Bill heard a scratch like a cat's tongue. A raspy whisper; a laugh? He was unsure.
"I'm so very sorry Mrs. Gilmoure." he began. His eyes darted around looking for another way out. there was none but passed the small nut job in the wheelchair. "I didn't know you were home. I came here on a dare. To bring something out. Prove I was here. Are you a ghost?"
Now there WAS a laugh; hearty and vacant. She wiped at her eyes and held her belly. She tugged something from her lap; long and not so shiny but Bill knew what it was.
"No ghost boy. Very very real." She fixated her milky stare. "You're not wanted here. What's your name you filthy afterbirth?"
Bill was shocked. "Ma'am?"
"NAME!" she rattled and pulled herself quickly through the door within a foot or two of the terrified child.
"Bill."
"Bill, Bill...what a pill." she smirked and tugged closer. Her movements were strong though jerky with her one leg. the chair screamed with dust and age. "Well, step in to my parlor said the spider to the fly..." and she cackled again, wielding the blade to make sure he understood her intent.
"Just let me go Mrs. Gilmoure. It's just me and my mom. She don't even know I'm here. I'll go straight home and never say a word. I swear Mrs. Gilmoure. Just let me pass. I won't touch or take nothin. and I'll NEVER come back."
"That'd be right boy. Never." She pulled herself closer and stretched to get a bleary view of the intruder. She cocked her head and puzzled for a moment. "How old boy?"
"I'm ten and a half."
"Half." she chuffed.
"You and your mama?"
"Yeah."
"WHAT?" she thundered and jabbed at him.
"Yes Ma'am"
She sat back. "Who's your mama?"
"Miss Jeffreys."
The broken old woman in the chair sat up. A darkness seemed to encircle them. "what?" she whispered. "Jeffreys?"
"Yes Mrs. Gilmoure. Mabel --."
But he didn't get to say the rest. The old woman flew from her chair with a rusty screech, the knife slicing left and right. The boy backed up and cried out. He felt warmth and tearing. Out of her vehicle, she crawled with a sidewinder'sspeed jabbing, carving and grunting at the little boy always keeping herself between him and the door; safety. He tripped over a trash bin and fell on his back. Like a paper towel on a spill she was on him, pining him to the dirty floor.
"MY son. You were to be MY SON. MY gift to MY husband. NOT that whore who says you are hers... You should have been MINE" Each sentence brought a new slice. Bill stopped hearing her. He remembered his mother's laugh. Her perfume. He said he was sorry. And he was; for sneaking out. He fell asleep under a crimson blanket forever; surrounded by warmth, feeling his mother's arms...
Jon and Tyler and me went to Sheriff Baber on Sunday morning when Bill wasn't at church. We told the whole story. There was quite a parade of lights and sirens that morning. All the way to Crazy Frannie's house. We lead the way, but were not permitted to enter. Sheriff Baber did it. Then he whispered to Deputy Jones to get an ambulance. No one was meant to see. But I was standin just right. and there was my friend, my half brother, Bill Jeffreys all cut up and Crazy Frannie was holdin him, cradling him and singin a lullaby. Like he was her baby doll or somethin. Mama would never recover, I can't tell you how many nights she would just sit, holding herself and hum. I would kiss her and tell her to hush. It would be okay, but it just never was.
Sorry this was late, but I really think it's worth it. I loved it; writing and scaring the holy snot out of myself. it was a nightmare I had last week after watching, reading and researching some ghost stories. I know... I should know better by now. I hope it raised the hair on your arms and made you look back... just once. Thank you so much for coming over and hanging out. You're so much fun.
Until next time.
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