Freebie

Her hair was thick and dark; long if you caught her on the weekends but this was Tuesday and so it was swooped up in a twist at the nape of her graceful neck.  She walked confidently; though she never truly felt at ease in the city. She preferred her quiet home with its dense, peaceful woods. She had only a couple more blocks to get to her office. She began to scan the street, looking for him.

He was there.  He did not try to hide.  His prudish embarrassment had eroded in the months maybe even years of being homeless.  The man was part of her scenery when trudging to work.  Today he was sitting in the doorway of the abandoned bakery.  She had bought him some cookies there once.  Jennifer usually bought him something; a free meal, a few cookies,  any little thing to give him some nourishment for the day. She didn't do it for all the homeless, but this man was different. He was always there when most came and went; drifting, disappearing, dying... it made her sad.  But this man; stayed. This street; its abandoned storefronts, boarded up row homes were his neighborhood. He watched over it; protected it and what it contained. He was planted here no differently than the trees that flowered along the chipped, marked curbs; they were all rooted.  If he was asleep, she left it, tucking it under his filthy blankets at his feet or at his side.  His hair was knotted, matted and he smelled of neglect and sour misfortune.  It seemed to Jennifer that once a month or so he was able to wash or rinse off.  She shuddered to think of the murky, stagnant retention basins capped with green and yellow foaming algae; shiny with motor oil runoff, and cluttered with rubbish that she passed on her way in to the city each morning on her train ride.  She wrinkled her nose as she drew up close to him and stooped to lay the breakfast sandwich at his side.  He startled and grabbed her.

"It's ME. " she cried and tumbled back, nearly falling to the ground.  The man looked at her for a long time through squinting suspicious eyes. "Free meal." she continued with a shaky smile.  His long, dirty fingernails dug at her wrist.  She wanted to pull away and run but she waited; trying not to scream. "He's just a man" she told herself. She only wanted to help him. She was afraid that if she reacted, the police would be called, he'd get in trouble. She waited, breathing through her mouth. His grip loosened and his fingers released her.  He leaned in almost too close to her cheek.  Jennifer tried not to wince and scowl as the odor slithered up her nose and threatened to bring tears. With his other hand he grabbed the sandwich and tore at the paper with his teeth.  She swore she heard his stomach barking with delight.  He sat back as egg yolk dripped down into the scruff of a beard he wore.  His eyes seemed to brighten just a bit.

"Freebie" he gruffed and it was gone; devoured.  He closed his eyes and seemed to fall instantly back to sleep.

Jennifer felt her heart begin to cautiously settle back down into her chest with a more regular beat. She stood and headed in to work. She had been doing this for several months now.  He had been sitting there as long as she had been working in The Dungeon.  She was an auditor and although her initial interpretation of the job she'd taken was to right the wrongs; she found that it was more often than not; distort the regulations to take back money and pad the pocketbook of the company.  It got her commissions and she was able to pay off her school loans, get a nice house and be more than financially stable, but it left her heart a little smudged and blackened.  This at least made her feel human.

She turned to look once more but he had moved on. Unperturbed, she began her day.  It flew by, as she contacted the people she needed to, prepared documents for review, submitted original audits to new clients and resubmitted others.  She fielded calls from irate "victims" and did her best to remember to drink water after chewing her morning dose of Tylenol.  The headache; a daily visitor, had come early this morning.

"Hey Gorgeous. Wanna get a quickie?" The man had plopped himself on the corner of her desk on top her current review.  She tugged at it simultaneously pushing his leg.

"Uhhh can't today. I'm behind on these regs and I am supposed to see the uhhh leeeet's see the bakery down on ..."

"It can wait.  Have lunch with me; even if it's down at the caf."

Jennifer looked up and stared at his dark brown eyes. "Ew the caf? really? You're that desperate?" she smiled wryly.

Kevin stood and held out his hand.  Theirs was a budding romance in the office.  It was exciting, fun and new.  Jennifer didn't know if it was "the one" but Kevin had been good to her, taken her to nice places and at least pretended to listen to her although she noticed his attention span was greatly sidetracked by other women and sports.  She enjoyed what time they spent together and just felt like seeing someone for a while.  It was nice to have a place to go, someone to have as company.  She hadn't let him in her bed and he was beginning to hint that they become a "thing" and take a weekend romp together.  Jennifer always changed the subject.  She wasn't ready for that kind of commitment just yet.

"Okay, I'll slack but only for a few.  I really need to get through that review, have my training set up for next week and also make that appointment"  She twisted her watch, glanced and took his hand.  "I'll buy today."

He raised his eyebrows and brought her hand to his lips.  "I just love you modern women!" and they proceeded to the sandwich wagon outside. She ordered three dogs and some potato puffs.  Kevin couldn't hide his reaction.  She smiled and looked around.

Her "friend" had moved to the alley near the distraught row homes with boarded up windows and scabbing paint.  He curled up in a doorway. Jennifer walked over and left the dog and potatoes at his feet, gently shook what was left of his shoe and smiled as he slowly squinted at her.

"Free meal"

"Freebie" he hissed and lunged forward to grab at it and almost inhale it; paper and all.

Kevin yanked her back and kicked at his leg.

"Hey! Don't be a douche!" he snapped; kicking him again.

The homeless man cocked his head as if he didn't understand; glancing quickly at Jennifer.  Kevin leaned over, grabbed the poor man's thin filthy tee shirt and pulled him up toward his own face.  His other hand was pulled back and already fisted. Stunned, Jennifer finally realized Kevin meant to hit the man. The hobo began to back stroke along the cement in an attempt to get away. Jennifer seized Kevin's wrist; pulling at him

"Hey! Hey! Kevin! Stop! What are you DOING?" she was appalled and shocked at his disdain for the man without a home, without proper shoes...without an identity or a life.  It shouldn't make him a target.

The hobo balled up, covering himself as best he could; peeking at Jennifer through his fingers with confused eyes.  She pulled Kevin again and got between the two men.  She then knelt down and touched his arm.

"I'm sorry Sir. I just wanted you to have something to eat. My friend won't bother you again."

He bowed his head like a scolded puppy and wiped his face.

"Freebie" he muttered and gathered his nest of few things he had and began to scurry off; glancing over his shoulder.  His eyes were squinted and glaring at Kevin; filled with anger it seemed to Jennifer. He left the food.

Jennifer stood sadly, her shoulders dropped.  "I'm sorry." she whispered.

"You really need to be careful.  Those things are like wild animals. Never know when one's gonna turn on you." Kevin sniffed and practiced a few uppercuts; though Jennifer couldn't imagine why. To impress....her? this made her heart sag a little more; sealing his fate with her.

"He's a man, Kevin.  He has nothing. He's not eaten in however long. Don't be such an ass."

She turned and went back inside; ignoring him the rest of the day and rushing out to avoid him after hours.

She did not see the homeless man for several days after that.  She had also refused to see Kevin.  In short order, her life ground to a halt and she was quietly alone.  She held mixed feelings on it. More than a month went by before her friends at last coaxed her into staying late and getting drinks after work at a local pub.  She needed the time out to blow off steam.  Work had been particularly brutal and so she gladly accepted.  They proceeded to dance and drink and laugh.  Jennifer was so glad she had come; until Kevin popped up out of nowhere.

"Well WELL ~ Isn't it Muhver Treeresa? Shoont you be propped up with a bum somewhere in a doorway?" the sour smell of Tangeray stung her nostrils.  He leaned in too closely and gripped her arm. His speech was sloppy as was the kiss he tried to plant on her mouth.  He swayed, lost his balance and almost toppled them both.  With a huff of disgust, she twisted out of it and stepped away from him.  Her friends gathered behind her, around her, hovering angrily.  Bouncers quickly escorted. Kevin out the door but not without a mediocre display of indignant, false bravado by the drunken man.  The girls began again, but for Jennifer the night was over. He'd spoiled her fun.  With quick hugs and promises to do it all again soon, she pulled her jacket close and headed out into the night. She only had a few blocks to walk to the station but the humidity had dropped and it was chilly. She walked briskly toward the station carefully watching those that passed her or those that lingered in doorways and in side alleys.  Most were just settling down for the night or on the move to a meeting that she wanted to know nothing about.

"Heeey... Heeeey"

She ignored the familiar voice and picked up the pace.  Only a couple more blocks. She just wanted to go home.

"Heeey ~ Why you runnin? Slow dow Muhver Treesa." Kevin slurred and trotted up alongside.  "Why you gotta be such a bitch now? We had sumpin good Treesa. Why you pick a stinkin bum over me?"

She kept walking and tried to think of an answer that would satisfy him so he would just leave her alone.

"It wasn't that Kevin. You're a great guy,"

"I KNOW. That's what I'm SAYIN" he rolled his head and chuffed; more gin wafted her way. Then he took her arm and yanked her back to him.  she fell against him.  He dragged her back into an alley. "Listen a me Lil girl. You aren't so hot shit."

She tried to keep the disdain from her face. She gritted her teeth and licked her lips, plastering a smile on her lips as she coyly touched his chest attempting to put some distance between them.

"Oh No Kevin. I don't think that at all. I just think you deserve someone more like you; prettier than me. Someone who can appreciate all you give. Someone more like you..."

"Like me? You don't LIKE ME?"

Jennifer sighed; frustrated with the drunk man's lack of focus and understanding.

"I like you Kevin. We just aren't a good couple."

"I like you too Jenfer. I think we do. I want to BE a couple."

He leaned in to kiss her; his mouth already open as if he intended to suck up her chin.  His hands quickly wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.  He grabbed at her backside.

Jennifer began to fight, but he was pulling her back in to the shadows; grabbing at her wrists and yanking her clothes.  They struggled and she was frightened that even this pie-faced, he was winning.  She called out for help hoping that she wasn't too far from the club to be heard.  He pawed at her skirt.  Their feet got tangled up and before she knew it they were tumbling to the ground; her head striking hard on the pitted, dirty street. She scrambled to stay out from underneath him but he was fast and pinned her to the ground.  He panted and laughed as if they were passionately consumed; hoping only to remain undiscovered.

"Thass-it Baby.  A couple"  And his kisses began to drown her; hard and wet.  He grunted and dug his hands into her skin, beginning to now tear at her clothes.  Jennifer kicked and screamed. She flailed wildly and tossed her head. She tried to bite him if he came too close but he was too heavy and strong.  The tears were furious and hot.

"Don't DO this Kevin. Stop!" but he was not hearing her.

Jennifer did not hear the footsteps.  She did not see who hit Kevin and knocked him out.  She was terrified and shocked when his body went limp and simply appeared to drain from on top of her.  Jennifer curled into a ball and gathered her clothes and purse.  Swiping the tears from her face she at last stood and looked into the dark alley.  There was a quiet heavy thump and some tearing, more dragging and other thumps.  She strained her eyes and took a step.

"Hello? Are you all right? You ... You saved me. You saved me." there was a rush of fresh tears and the heat of relief that she was safe.  She took another step and heard a heavy moan. "If you're hurt I can call someone to help us. Oh God you saved me. He wa-was gonna.. Thank you. Thank you." The words fell warm and salty like her tears as she covered her mouth with her trembling hand.  Pain was beginning to make itself known to her in scratches and bruises that would pop up over the next weeks.

There was a thick crunch as the stench of hot copper rolled over her.

"Hello?" she asked again. She walked toward the noise; feeling a chill crawl under her flesh and beg her to stop.

Then in the darkness she saw the flash of eyes; light eyes as they squinted and stared at her.

"Freebie." said the voice.

A pained groan crept along the ground; dazed and confused. Jennifer took another step.

"No." warned the voice.  She stopped; strained her eyes against the night.  The eyes flashed once more when Kevin began to moan and move or so she thought. Again she heard a juicy, heavy thump; a crunch and a dry laugh.

"Free meal." came the gravelly whisper.

Jennifer ran.  She dashed for the station and prayed all the way home.  She locked her doors and stayed inside for the rest of the weekend. She wondered how she didn't drown in her tears or choke in her fear.

Monday came.  She stood tall, with her hair neatly twisted at the nape of her neck.  She looked for him.  He laid peacefully in the doorway of the old bakery.  She stopped and knelt beside him taking his hand gently.  He slowly opened his eyes and smiled gently at her.

"Thank you." she said.

"Freebie." he echoed again and rubbed his belly.  His smile widened revealing teeth; long, sharp and too many in number to count; they were like needles.  Jennifer rose without a word, turned and went to work.



So what did you think? I kind of like it.  I worked on this one quite a bit; failing to get it to come around like I wanted but overall, I am pretty happy.  

Well this week is a big and busy one. 

BUT

 I am heading to the lake for a HUGE hike that I am very excited about.  The season is drifting by me and I just want to get out there in it. But enough about me.  I hope you had a nice week. Thank you for stopping here and beginning again. May it be pleasant, smooth and filled with laughs.  We all need those. Yes. Much more of those.  

And so until next time: safe, happy travels.

For Love

He loved her from afar. He was just her pharmacist. You may wonder how I know; I mean I was just the technician. Often times we are overlooked, taken for granted or simply ignored.  I had worked with Elliot for years. We were as close to being friends as could be ~ all things considered. Elliot was a decent man. He had been alone for about four years after his wife left him for his partner, Jim. Needless to say, the company moved Jim and the love he stole to another undisclosed location. Elliot was crushed and withdrew from everything; everyone.  Who wouldn't? After almost twenty years of marriage and a family created; a life that he thought was good and worth fighting for, he was shocked to discover he was the only one waging such a loving war.

It was almost a year and a half before he could even bear to go out.  He and I  would grab a bite or a drink after work sometimes.  We had even seen a movie or two. On occasion, he'd drop of my mom's meds if I wasn't able. There was nothing going on.  I don't dig guys. We were really just hanging out. I told him when I was dating or had a potential new girlfriend. He feigned interest and told me he had no one. We were doing the best we could with what we had. Life was hard and we were just trying to keep each other from dying of loneliness.

But then along came the stunning, captivating Dayna.  Well, along came her prescriptions. I had seen her around town; in a restaurant while I was having dinner with my mom.  She told us she moved to town with her husband, Marc, and they switched their prescriptions to us.  Elliot was all smiles for her. He bent over backwards, made polite small talk, noticed if she cut her hair, looked tired... he doted from across the counter.  And Dayna didn't object. She enjoyed the pleasantries and always chatted right back.  I had to laugh when Elliot all but knocked me over to go and wait on her. He never did that, preferring instead to hide behind the computer or on the phone.  But Dayna was a different story.  I watched him sometimes brush her hand when he handed over the meds or if she was having a difficult day, touch her arm and sympathetically pat her. He always took the time to explain her medicine; overly helpful with a look of adoration and hope in his eyes. I found it comical.  It was almost another year before he gained the courage to express something less than professional concern for her. She was flattered of course, but kindly reminded him that she was married.  I felt a little bad for him.  He just couldn't catch a romantic break. I didn't tell him I had fallen in love. It seemed cruel. So our dinners or drinks were a little more quiet then.

For a while, she disappeared.  Mr Kritzler came instead.  He always sauntered in with a cavelier bravado and almost appeared to be laughing at Elliot.  He would flip a condescending smile or a snide remark about his wife on the way out just to add insult to injury.  I hated that guy.  He even had the nerve to come in with other women.  Not that it would be any big deal except they were usually gum chewers who hung on him like cheap, gawdy jewelry.  It enraged Elliot. I wasn't too full of chuckles either.

But after the rains, the sun will shine again, right? Indeed. At least according to my mother.  And so Dayna began to show up again. Elliot kept his distance, understanding his place and things evened out.  They seemed satisfied with their friendship.  It became comfortable enough that I would step aside to tell him she was coming. I noticed his mood improving and by the time she arrived, I was glad.  He was like a kid waiting on Santa.  Whatever.  I wished him happiness; however he could muster it.   But then one day after she left, he seemed to cloud up.  It wasn't like him. He usually was glowing for at least two hours after she had gone.

"What's up El?"

He shook his head and frowned. "Nothin Kid."

"C'mon. What's up? Dayna is always a sunny spot for you."

"Not today." he furrowed his brow and shook his head.

I waited.  It would take some time but he would tell me.  He always did; about 7pm he caved.

"Hey, Carla?"

"Hey El?"

"Did you see that bruise on Dayna?"

"No." but I didn't want to tell him I had seen others.

"It was pretty ugly."

"Maybe she's a klutz"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Elliot, don't assume." but I had already done that.

"I'm just saying it looked ugly and there were some pretty harsh finger marks around her wrist."

"Maybe she and her husband like it rough."

"CARLA"

"Maybe not" I said quietly.

"Probably not." he sniffed

Truth be told, I had seen Dayna on days Elliot was off and she had to wear long sleeves or don sunglasses on more than one cloudy sultry afternoon.

He then folded up; just closed off completely.  He and I didn't hang out anymore. He didn't want to talk much, especially about Dayna.  When she came, he rushed to her, spoke softly, caressed her gently and I swear I heard him pleading with her... to get help? I don't know. I couldn't find out without being a total jackwagon and hovering. It wasn't my place. 

One day Dayna came in and asked if he was in.  I was surpised because it never happened that way.  I told her that he was in fact off.  I told her I could buzz his cell if she wanted but she adjusted her sunglasses and told me not to bother.  She'd catch him another time.  I smiled.

"Dayna?"

"Yes, Carla?"

"Are you all right?"

She pulled at her sleeves and straighted up her glasses again but it was too late.  I saw the shiner.  "Can't you leave?"

"Carla?"

"Yes."

"I will be all right. Thank you." and she swiped the tear before she thought I had seen it, patted my arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze and left me there with too many emotions. I was angry at her careless husband. I felt bad for her. I called Elliot when I was finished at work to tell him that she had come and asked for him. I also told him what I saw.

There was silence.

"Did you hear me?" I almost hissed.

"Yep. I did Kiddo."

"I'm not a kid."

"I know. I do that when I get nervous."

"I know."

"I'll see you tomorrow.

And we worked side by side for twelve hours not speaking of her; not even when her husband's medication was called in; a sleeping pill. Dayna called late that night to tell us she would be in to pick it up the next day since Marc would be leaving town.  Elliot began to pace and fidget. His normally sexy radio voice was filled with stutters and he was lost in thought. Then he prepared Marc's prescription.  I should have stopped him.  I should have told someone what I saw. But somewhere in my mind, maybe I thought it was right.  He began to compound the medicine, adding a whopping dose of digitalis to Mr Kritzler's sleeping capsules. They were a special strength, needing extra attention as did most things that concerned Mr. Kritzler. I saw El take it off the shelf, pull several from the stock bottle which he simply plopped into the mortar to disappear sinfully in the other ingredients.

That was that.

It was my turn to sweat and fidget.  I began to feel ill.  I didn't know what to do.  The clock seemed to run in reverse. At last came in.  We both dove for the counter.

"Hi Dayna. All set." he said almost too cheerfullly.

"Hey Mrs Kritzler." I chirped trying to butt in.

He glared at me.

"Uhhh hi guys." she winced a smile to keep her busted lip from splitting open again. "I just came to get Marc's prescription."

"Oh yep. Here it is. All set. All ready. For marc." he slid it over to her quickly and she signed for it.  The sale was made; a deal with the devil.  He sighed and wiped his forehead.

"Mrs Kritzler.." I stammered.

"Yes?"

"....Have a nice night." and I turned away.  She was dobbing blood from her lips.

I couldn't think of another thing to say for the rest of my shift and all but ran out of there.  Elliot didn't notice.

We wouldn't speak to or see each other until Monday.   When it arrived and we were tossed together again, we were more than grateful that it was busy and filled with all the headaches a hearty Monday should be to make you appreciate the other days of the week.  Then around 11am Edith Welty came in and asked for a refill of her anxiety meds. She's the town's self- proclaimed Nancy Drew; but we view her as more of the local gossip and busy body. What a pain she can be; always snooping... knows everything about everybody (so she thinks)

"I just gotta have em Doc. You won't BELIEVE my day!" and she slapped the counter.

"Oh?" Elliot was only half listening while he prepped some other meds and I was too busy hammering out labels and yapping on the phone in order to keep our heads above water.

"Well, just between us," she "whispered"; the old carcass was hard of hearing so it was as "just between us" as an a cannon blast. " I was on my way here and drove passed that pretty house over on Fairmont and it was a literal BEEHIVE of activity."

"Oh?" again, there was distance and disinterest.

"Yes! There were crews of all sorts, police and yellow tape and of course the rubberneckers." She waved her heavily ringed fingers as if to scold them. Bangle bracelets clinked to capture Elliot into the conversation. "And so I pulled up as close as I dared and asked someone  who was walking out what the devil was going on and they said the woman there had died. Diana...Dena... Ohhhh what was her name..."

In a puff of dry sawdusty air he gasped her name."Dayna?"

"There ! Thank you so much. DAYNA! Well it seems that she took some of her husband's sleeping pills and overdosed.  You know Elliot, you always tell me not to give my little helpers to anyone and now we all know why. Such a shame....I just heard that he was away on business and they were very eager to speak with him. Seems he was a bit... of a... rough talker... " she put her fists up and made some very poor attempt at boxing." AAAAND I have heard that he had an issue keeping it in his pants." This was given a significantly dramatic eyebrow raise and a slow nod as she stared over her glasses that were chained around her neck so we could marvel at her tip top sleuthing.

Elliot looked like he was made of chalk and that at that instant he wanted to twist the chain around Edith's neck until her eye popped out and smooshed against her glasses and her tongue fell out of the red slash that was such an innocently cruel excuse for a mouth.  He took off his jacket, said "Oh my God Jesus Christ." and left.

I had to call the DM and tell them what had happened and then we closed the pharmacy.

I tried to reach him.  I wanted to tell him what I knew.  I wanted to tell him I'd help him.  But he wouldn't answer my calls.  By the next morning, I headed to his place.

No one answered the door.  I went around back hoping he'd left the slider unlocked as he so often did. Pushing back the outdated vertical blinds I froze in the doorway.  Elliot's body lay in a thick dark stain. His jaw was set at a grotesque angle and there appeared to be no top to his skull. Angry crimson streaks raged along the once delicate walls; the gun playfully laying to his side.  I called the police and told them what I found. Then I waited. No matter how uncomfortable I was I had to stay.   My phone would be pinged and I would be found anyway.  I couldn't make the second call from this phone.

I would have to use the cheap one my girlfriend bought me.  Dayna had paid cash for the stupid little thing and it was hidden so when I had given my story; when they had found the note I'm sure Elliot wrote in his grief, I would then be able to call her and she would confirm the truth; that Marc had died unlike the story I got to tell Mrs. Welty.  I smiled knowing Edith Welty couldn't see better than a mole and was glad she had stopped by so I could give her the false terrifying news. It was a fluke but one that worked to my advantage.  She never knew it was me since I was wearing my hoodie and  made SURE  I was conveniently busy on the phone when she delivered the devastating blow.  Blabbermouth. Otherwise, I would have had to tell him myself; that I had seen it on my way to  my mother's place which is the same neighborhood.  He'd remember that from the couple of times he'd dropped off meds to her when we were in a pinch.

It was a long day, but I was released without a second glance.  I waited until the next morning to make the call; her voice small and hopeful as she answered. She told me what I wanted, needed to hear; that she was at last mine.  We could move on; here or anywhere without hesitation, without bindings.

It was all for love.




So my daughter said she liked it and confessed that even though she was creeped out, she still found herself saying "awwww ~ they fell in love...."   Heehee. I love it when it's skewed like that.  Well I hope you all had a beautiful weekend. I sure did. I made it to the lake, enjoyed every breath, and we are going to stay late ~ what could be better? I can't think of a thing. Well, other than the fact we got to hang out and I hope you liked my story. 

Until next time, thanks for keeping an eye on me. I'm glad you were here.

Hey there my pretty pals.
Yes indeed I rested, I relaxed and I ran around like a maniac enjoying my kids and family. What a great trip. But as we all know, there is a price to be paid for having fun and I am getting spanked without the option for a safety word.

sigh.

I have one ready to go and I really like it. I am looking to take some time this week, get it written and let it marinate then post it so we can sit together for a bit this weekend.

I hope you on the east coast are weathering the storms. Those out west, I wish you some of our rain... just gentle enough that you could use it.  Mother Nature would seem a bit perturbed with us as of late.  Who hid the butter (for those of you old enough to remember: it isn't nice to fool her... :)   )

Well back to the grind.

Miss y'all.
Much luvin and many hugs.
Tessa

Fault

Mistakes. We make them all of our lives. It isn't something we grow out of.  When I was a little shit, I covered my mistakes with bullying. If I was unhappy, screwed up a test or anything of the remotely negative nature, someone ELSE had to pay a  hefty price.  That day was special. I was just raw and so everyone was on my list. Gregory Bateman was a scared rabbit of a kid; short with glasses and baggy clothes.  Nothing he wore told me he was made of money so I didn't think anyone would care if he cleaned the board with his face. I didn't expect his father's lawyer to call my house with threats. I didn't actually mean to break his nose or dislocate his shoulder. My bad.

So I got home and of COURSE my doting mother was already in tears; sobbing about how careless and mean I was and how could I do this to our family AGAIN? Wailing about having to move AGAIN. I felt a little bad I guess. Maybe that is why I knocked all the pictures off the table and broke the vase. I didn't mean  for her to get cut. I ran to my room not because she told me to, but to stop the anger bubbling in my head. I wanted to be alone and to focus and come back to being me. I remember hearing myself shouting, I saw myself pulling things off the walls and swatting brick-a-brack from the tables in the hall on my way to my room.  I flopped on to the safety of my bed and smooshed my face into the pillow wishing I would drown in cool feathers.  

When my father arrived home, I heard mother softly crying.  She was afraid of "losing me to him" I wasn't sure who she was talking about. Had she gone daft and spiritual in an afternoon? My father's voice boomed in the beginning, sailing threats up the stairs to me of military school or some prison style asylum for unruly heathens like myself but Mother kept shushing and whispering in a panicky tone like they were trying to hide me. My antics had worn me out and sleep crept in soft and warm. I didn't care that I missed dinner. Mother's meatloaf is dry and I didn't want mashed potatoes anyway.

I don't know what time it was. Late. The house was dark and quiet so they had either abandoned me or gone to bed. I smirked at the thought of the former. They would never; unconditional love has its perks.  I rolled over and looked out the window. The day had been warm and bright but now a sweet dense fog was crawling across the grass, filling the neighborhood.  I closed my eyes and listened to the breeze.  I heard a plucking on my screen.  Thinking it was just June bugs, I sighed and breathed in the night.  Then there was a scratch or a pulling.  It was slow and deliberate. I felt my skin prick. I closed my eyes tightly this time, determined to keep the fear out of my mind. My name drifted gently to my ears in a hush. "Kyyyyyle" It seemed on the brink of giggling; a "lookie what I have for you! You'll LOVE it" kind of tone. So I let in the tiniest bit of light, then a little more, and much to my regret, my eyes focused.

It hulked around the window as if trying to squeeze in frame.  it's hair was white tight and fuzzy like a frayed cotton ball.  The eye sockets were crimson rimmed loosely holding milky clouded eyes.  Its flesh seemed rough and powdery almost crumbling away revealing oozing layers of brownish-grey decaying tissue that appeared to bubble like a baked pie.  The mouth was gone; sewn shut long ago yet a tear to the left was what it used to consume.  it contained flat grinding molars which now served as front teeth gnawing through sinewy strands of facial muscle, the tongue protruded like a moist grub in rotting soil.

"You're not real." I choked in the dark. I prayed I was right, now understanding what my mother was talking about earlier in the evening. I was not sent to my room as punishment but as protection; from this.

"But I am Kyle."

"Monsters aren't real." the cold terror hitched my voice and I was unable to stifle my sobbing.

"I am not the monster. YOU are. You hit that boy Kyle. You hurt your mother, your father, you belong with me. It's not your fault. Isn't that what you say?  I will pluck you like a weed, strip you of your flesh to make new for me.  I will cut away your skinny muscles, dine on them like the finest steak; better than veal my boy.  I will drink your tears, reveling in the cries of your anguished soul.  Your bones will bleach along the rails of my cart that carries those not as lucky as you; those who are not dead ~ yet. You and I will be one." 

I heard a slurping noise as if it had excited itself to hunger and a sandy gritty noise as the teeth came together in anticipation.  While it spoke, it opened the window and drifted through the room like a mist; a cloud of dread. I begged to be left in peace to right my wrongs as the fingers tightly wrapped and laced with differing sheets of skin in various stages of decay began to unroll the blanket exposing my pajamas.  With filthy, curved nails as sharp as daggers, it cut away buttons and my pale skin flashed in the night.  A leathery stretch was its smile when it lowered its skull and took a long breath.  I failed to hold my bladder against such inexplicable horror nor could I scream.  

But the door burst open to reveal my mother and father huddled together and moving as one.  They mumbled and muttered forgiveness for me and salvation of my soul and life.  They wanted me since I was the only one to survive. They would do a better job. They could save me if given the chance the others had not.

Others? Brothers? Sisters? 

"Then the deal is struck" came the rough crackling voice abruptly.  It sounded like dead leaves across gravel, yet tired and irritated at the whining of my parents.  "To harm again will bring great loss." and it turned glaring directly into my quivering soul, wagging its finger and shaking its head slowly; deliberately.  It left us there with a cloying muddy smell, our relief,and terrified silence.

We never spoke of it again and things changed.  I changed.  It stayed away for the most part though sometimes I saw it ( or imagined so) whenever I became angry or thought I had been wronged and wanted to seek a little retribution.  If I came to close to "failing" I would hear my name on the wind; a reminder of what could come; more than a storm, worse than punishment.

My parents passed away and I married.  The circle of life continued for me and I lost my childhood; its memories. I gave it up completely  to live recklessly.  I drank too much and caroused a bit. I was mean to my wife and detached from my daughter.  One particularly bad night after having lost my job because I was late(again) after a binge, I stopped at the bar to have a pick me up. I wanted to feel bad about my predicament, but found release and satisfaction at being on the wrong side of the tracks.  It fit me like a glove; like saying hello to a very good old friend.  So I hooked up with a woman of loose morals out in the parking lot, but we had had too much to drink ~ I had bought most of them~ and I was unable to fulfil my part of the deal and she laughed at me. Shame. 

She shouldn't have done that. I didn't want to hit her or choke her or hit her head on the wall... over ... and over... and... when she slumped to the ground I laughed. I loved the smell of warm pennies and fear. I made that. I dragged her limp, wasted body around the back corner and covered her. It would be days before anyone if anyone missed her or came here to look for her.  I wiped my face and went home to my life. But I had been freed.  The spree continued weekly in different towns near by. I always chose the darkest bars and the seediest women. I let my anger take control just for a while and it calmed me; made the rest of the time tolerable... I just had to hang on until I could get out.  I figured it was better than the alternative; kill my wife and family. I simply needed this... hobby. My  wife was disappointed in me; my drinking and extramarital adventures; feeling free to admonish me at every turn. I pointed out it was her fault for being such a cold, controlling bitch. I think that was when I began to bag two a night. 

It was late in the fall ~ almost my daughter's sixth birthday.  I was supposed to go out and get her a gift but found one for me instead.  I was close to home so felt it safe to walk.  It had been warm and bright but I noticed a thick fog rolling in through town.  In my drunken stupor, I couldn't understand the tightness in my belly, the puckering of my ass or the waves of salt causing me to swallow like one of Pavlov's dogs.  I began to rush home.  By the time I got there, locked the door and slipped up the stairs, I was clammy and gasping.  I heard the wind billowing through the house. It seemed to be calling my name.  My mind was cloudy but urged me to get down the hall to the baby's room quickly. I tripped on one of her toys and stumbled into her room, falling to my knees and scratching my nose along the shag rug, I felt the flesh rip and sting.  I heard the soft tears of the women in my life, filled with horror and confusion.  I searched the darkness but saw nothing. My blood froze when my ears detected the light plucking on the screen; the long drawing scratch.

"Look." it commanded. I finally remembered the voice.  Dead leaves.  Gravel.  It was my turn to sob.

"LOOK." it snapped again. And I did. I saw my wife's body, free of skin and hair.  It was as if  the monster had simply tried her on for size; to its chest, it hugged my daughter.

"No. Me. It was my fault. Take me." I begged and reached up.  I touched a perfect pink little toe and the baby cried, reaching for me calling for me.

"Broken promises." it cackled and I smelled the most sickening stench of warm pennies and fear. 

The scream came from what was left of my heart ripping apart my vocal cords. The bodies of my family lay in a blameless heap. I crawled toward them, throwing myself over them like a blanket, hugging them.  I screeched my apologies.  It snickered and loomed over me.  I felt the flick of its blade-like nail along the back of my neck.  It lifted me to its height and wagged its finger, shook its head and hauled me into the night where it tied me to a bone laden cart with rope made of hair. I sat and watched as it devoured my family and began to at last fulfill the promise it had made so many years ago.

I cried for an eternity, praying to a God that had given up on me; so righteously. For after all...

it was my fault.


So, whadja think of THAT one? heehee kinda creepy and gross.  I love it though. So who WAS the monster? Did you think about what the parents had to be like to lose all the "others"? This was one I just sat down and banged out. There are advantages to my insomnia (though I confess I "heard" things and had to look over my shoulder a time or two!) I'm pretty happy with it even though it's a bit gorey.  Well, I will be away for a few days on a much needed vacation. So I hope you enjoy your week. I'll see you in a little bit.  Thank you for coming by. It's nice to share some time with you.

Next time we're together, I'll be all tan, relaxed and ... ahahaha that's funny isn't it? Ohhh I can't even finish that one... 

Be good to yourself.
Tessa