Jackson awoke on his bedroom floor feeling as if he’d been unconscious for days, though it wasn’t more than minutes. He had no recollection as to how he ended up on the floor, he could only vaguely remember a very pretty woman whom he did not recognize being in his house. He blinked his eyes several times until he could see clearly. He remained motionless on the floor, trying to recover from the dizziness.
“You fainted,” said a woman’s voice.
“Oh Mindy, darling, thank God!” Jackson exasperated.
“Mindy? Mindy! You’re cheating on me?” the voice shrilled.
Jackson shook so hard, it appeared as if a switch on his body had been turned on and set to vibrate.
“Let me show you then, just what you’re going to miss.” The faint woman rolled him over, and straddled his body. “How could you find someone new? How, Chuck? How?”
“I-I’m…n-n-not…Ch-Ch-Ch-Chuck,” Jackson stammered.
"Well then who is Chuck?" the woman replied.
"My brother!" Jackson yelled.
“How can you lie to me? You have no brother. Last time we were together you left me before I could even climax. Just promise me this time will be different.”
Jackson opened his mouth to speak.
“Shhhh,” the ghost hushed him, placing two fingers sensually over his lips.
She took off her furry black bra and panties, leaving only cat ears, a bow tie, a cat tail, and suit cuffs on her body.
Aroused now, or at least as aroused as a man of his years can be, Jackson laid back and accepted the ghost’s advances. He closed his eyes, and felt her untie his robe, and slip off his boxers. Her hair tickled his inner thighs; she stroked him gently. Then, in a teasing manner, she got up and walked off into the hallway and down the stairs. He followed eagerly.
Running after her now, she ran from him playfully. They merrily chased each other all around the downstairs of Jackson’s home. Jackson trapped her in the kitchen. She smiled innocently, and opened a drawer. She fingered over the miscellaneous cooking utensils until she found his Thanksgiving turkey carving knife. She pulled it out, and ran it across her breasts. She thrust her chest forward and let her eyes roll back in her head. She licked the sharp edge of the knife, eyes closed and lips luscious.
Jackson stepped closer to her, smiling like a virgin. Her eyes opened sharply, and glared at him. The once aroused expression on her face turned to fury. She slammed the kitchen drawer shut, and stomped towards him. Once again afraid, Jackson took a step back, and then another and another.
The ghost bolted at him, and chased him angrily now around the downstairs of his home. Jackson raced upstairs for his room. She was too swift for him. By the time he was at the top of the stairs, she was at his ankles. She dove for him, barely missing, but sliced the back of his left calf.
Jackson let out a scream as he fell to the floor. Bracing himself against the wall, he pulled himself to his feet, and hobbled towards his room. She scurried around him, and blocked the doorway. Jackson backed up against the wall opposite his room, and scooted sideways. The ghostly woman put hands on either side of him against the wall. Jackson ducked beneath her arms, and tried to run.
The woman let out a loud roar of amusement. Jackson made his escape in the wrong direction; he was stuck between her and the window at the end of the hallway. He inched closer to it, desperate with no where else to go.
She sexually lingered in closer to him, knife ready at hand. Finally, they were against the window pane. Jackson could feel the cold blade pressed into his neck, and her warm breasts pushed into his chest.
She removed the knife from his throat, and pulled herself into Jackson’s arms, forcing him to hold her. “I always loved you, Chuck.” She inserted him into her, and then threw both their bodies into the glass and out the window.
“Come on guys. We’re late for movies with Grandpa,” Mindy told her children as she hurried them up the walkway to his front door. The kids joyously shouted out “trick-or-treat” and rang the bell.
No answer.
“Louder guys. Louder,” Mindy said to the children with a smile. As instructed the kids shouted out as loud as they could, but still nothing.
“Dad?” Mindy called. “Dad!”
The house was as silent as death itself.
“Wait here,” she instructed her children, and then headed for the side of the house. As she approached the side, she could hear a woman moaning loudly, as if she were having sex. A man’s voice roared with pleasure.
Mindy wandered more into the dark side yard at her father’s home until she heard something crunch beneath her feet. She kneeled down to it, and touched the ground. Shards of glass, she wondered.
Worried about the glass outside of Jackson’s home, and fearing her kids would her the two people having sex, she got up to go get them. Just before she started walking away, she heard a woman distinctly scream, “Oh, Chuck!”
And in reply to her scream, she heard a man mutter, “Call me Jackson.”
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Halloween Short Story
Jackson raced upstairs, and went back into hiding. All throughout the house he could hear tapping noises and footsteps. Suddenly, all fell silent again. Jackson perked up in bed, craning his neck towards the door listening for more mysterious noises.
Silence. And then crying.
“He-hello?” Jackson called out.
All he got in reply was louder harder sobbing.
Jackson manned up and crept out into the hallway. No signs of life were in view. He flicked the light switch to turn on the lights of the stairway. And then he flicked it again, and again. The lights never came on. Jackson’s legs turned to jell-o, and he crumbled to the floor allowing a tear from each eye to drip down his cheeks.
The sobbing became even louder now, and for the first time Jackson recognized it as a woman’s voice. “Sweetie?” He called out in hopes that it was a harmless little girl.
The sobbing paused, and then, “Sweetie?”
“Who’s th-there?”
“Sweetie!”
Jackson retreated into his room, peaking around the edge of the door.
“Sweetie!” The voice called louder.
From around the door, Jackson saw a voluptuous sexy young woman appear at the bottom of the stairs.
Silence. And then crying.
“He-hello?” Jackson called out.
All he got in reply was louder harder sobbing.
Jackson manned up and crept out into the hallway. No signs of life were in view. He flicked the light switch to turn on the lights of the stairway. And then he flicked it again, and again. The lights never came on. Jackson’s legs turned to jell-o, and he crumbled to the floor allowing a tear from each eye to drip down his cheeks.
The sobbing became even louder now, and for the first time Jackson recognized it as a woman’s voice. “Sweetie?” He called out in hopes that it was a harmless little girl.
The sobbing paused, and then, “Sweetie?”
“Who’s th-there?”
“Sweetie!”
Jackson retreated into his room, peaking around the edge of the door.
“Sweetie!” The voice called louder.
From around the door, Jackson saw a voluptuous sexy young woman appear at the bottom of the stairs.
Halloween Short Story
Jackson was sitting in his living room, lit only by the glow of old horror movies he had playing on his TV, when the first trick-or-treaters arrived. Ding! Dong! Jackson ran for his candy bowl and devil horns. “Well what do we have here? A witch. A princess. Superman.” He named off each one of the children’s costumes as he gave them a handful of candy each. “Oh such great costumes.” One by one they wished him a happy Halloween, and dispersed onto the neighboring houses.
He headed back for his lazy boy in the living room to continue watching the original Psycho. With his feet propped up and the seat reclined, he was nearly asleep the next time there was a noise at the door. “Trick-or-treat!” The children were calling. Back at the door with his devil horns he handed out candy in the same friendly manner as before. He closed the door as he waved the children onto the next house. Just as it latched, there was another knock. That was quick, Jackson thought.
He opened it up, candy bowl at hand, and found nothing. He shrugged, and closed it again. Another knock. Puzzled, he reopened the door. Still no one. He scratched the wispy grey hairs he still had left on top of his head. He looked to either side, and there was not a person to be found. He went back inside, once again closing the door. The pattern repeated, only this time Jackson did not open the door. There was a constant knocking for the next few minutes, and then the bell rang. “Trick-or-treat!”
Cautiously, and less friendly than before, Jackson gave out the candy quickly, and hurried back inside. As soon as the trick-or-treaters were gone, the knocking resumed until the next bundle of kids showed up at his door. “Trick-or-treat!” Jackson didn’t answer. “Trick-or-treat!” He silently stood behind the door. He heard a mother mutter to one of the kids, “Come on honey let’s go.” Jackson heard the kids trot away, and then the knocking came back.
Terrified, Jackson shut off the TV and headed upstairs for bed and hid underneath the sheets like a child frightened by the boogie man. He closed his eyes and unsuccessfully tried to sleep. The knocking turned to banging, and was now not only at the front door, but at the windows and on the walls. Jackson tried summing it all up to teenage mischief, but felt that it was otherwise.
Silence.
Nothing but the wind could be heard now. Jackson felt as if the terror of the night had subsided. The silence lasted a solid twenty minutes until it was broken by “Trick-or-treat!”
With his fears at rest, Jackson climbed from bed and passed out candy to the children. He waved goodbye to them, and gently closed the door. Just after it latched shut however, there was another noise, but not a knocking one.
The squeak of a door opening sounded from the kitchen, and then it slammed shut. Jackson darted to his hall closet and retrieved a golf driver. He snuck into his own kitchen, and before entering he took a swing around the corner of the doorway knocking a toaster into the wall. A flicked on the light, and there was nothing in the kitchen. The only thing that was altered about its appearance was the toppled over toaster that Jackson hit. He backed away slowly into the living room. The TV that was once on was now off.
He headed back for his lazy boy in the living room to continue watching the original Psycho. With his feet propped up and the seat reclined, he was nearly asleep the next time there was a noise at the door. “Trick-or-treat!” The children were calling. Back at the door with his devil horns he handed out candy in the same friendly manner as before. He closed the door as he waved the children onto the next house. Just as it latched, there was another knock. That was quick, Jackson thought.
He opened it up, candy bowl at hand, and found nothing. He shrugged, and closed it again. Another knock. Puzzled, he reopened the door. Still no one. He scratched the wispy grey hairs he still had left on top of his head. He looked to either side, and there was not a person to be found. He went back inside, once again closing the door. The pattern repeated, only this time Jackson did not open the door. There was a constant knocking for the next few minutes, and then the bell rang. “Trick-or-treat!”
Cautiously, and less friendly than before, Jackson gave out the candy quickly, and hurried back inside. As soon as the trick-or-treaters were gone, the knocking resumed until the next bundle of kids showed up at his door. “Trick-or-treat!” Jackson didn’t answer. “Trick-or-treat!” He silently stood behind the door. He heard a mother mutter to one of the kids, “Come on honey let’s go.” Jackson heard the kids trot away, and then the knocking came back.
Terrified, Jackson shut off the TV and headed upstairs for bed and hid underneath the sheets like a child frightened by the boogie man. He closed his eyes and unsuccessfully tried to sleep. The knocking turned to banging, and was now not only at the front door, but at the windows and on the walls. Jackson tried summing it all up to teenage mischief, but felt that it was otherwise.
Silence.
Nothing but the wind could be heard now. Jackson felt as if the terror of the night had subsided. The silence lasted a solid twenty minutes until it was broken by “Trick-or-treat!”
With his fears at rest, Jackson climbed from bed and passed out candy to the children. He waved goodbye to them, and gently closed the door. Just after it latched shut however, there was another noise, but not a knocking one.
The squeak of a door opening sounded from the kitchen, and then it slammed shut. Jackson darted to his hall closet and retrieved a golf driver. He snuck into his own kitchen, and before entering he took a swing around the corner of the doorway knocking a toaster into the wall. A flicked on the light, and there was nothing in the kitchen. The only thing that was altered about its appearance was the toppled over toaster that Jackson hit. He backed away slowly into the living room. The TV that was once on was now off.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
I remain non-disturbed by Charles Manson...WTF?
I am currently reading this book. I am about mid-way through. Before reading it, I was told that the things I'd learn would be terrifying and disturbing. But for some demented reason, I haven't reacted that way, and I already read the gruesome details of the murders. Even how someone was chopped up into 9 pieces. Well, I'm a freak, and I embrace it.
Go Green: A list of how to start...
I'm pretty sure just about everyone is sick of the heat. It's October. We're all getting ready for Halloween. Leaves are supposed to be changing, and it's supposed to be cloudy and crisp out. As we all know, that's just not happening.
What's sad is that so many people are in denial as to why it's like this. For everyone out there saying "global warming is a myth" (god I've heard that so much lately), do you really fucking think so? I mean come on! Polar animals are endangered because their homes are literally melting. People are suffering from heat, which is assisting in the quickness of our evaporating water. Can't you feel yourselves becoming lethargic because you're just too damn hot to do anything?
Please everyone, for the sake of our Earth, just do one thing each. One small change that can fit into your day without altering your lifestyle will helo more than you may think. Simple things like:
-shutting off the water when nothing is beneath the facet
-shortening shower time
-adding a recyclables trash can to your kitchen for all recyclable wastes
-use mugs instead of disposable paper cups
-turning off unnecessary lights
-unplugging appliances (toasters, microwaves, coffee pots, tvs, etc.) when they're not in use
-walking (or biking if you have one) to nearby destinations instead of drive
-hanging laundry out to dry
-using energy saving lightbulbs
-turning down the thermostat
-only filling up tea kettles and coffee pots with the amount of water you need
-planting something
-being organic for one day a week
-taking public transportation whenever convienent
-stop littering...throw your gum in the trash...not under a table or chair or on the ground
-saving water...it can be fun...take a bath with someone you love
-declining plastic bags, even paper ones, use the resusable totes that are sold for 99 cents at the front of the line; you may even have one already that wasn't purchased from a supermarket
-insulating your water heater
The list of how to help the enviornment and fight these climate issues goes on and on and on. Just one change, big or small, from everyone will help everyone. Surely something on this list can be incorporated into your life. Fight off global warming, and save the animals that are still left in the melting ice regions of the world. It's not to late, and THERE IS something you can do.
What's sad is that so many people are in denial as to why it's like this. For everyone out there saying "global warming is a myth" (god I've heard that so much lately), do you really fucking think so? I mean come on! Polar animals are endangered because their homes are literally melting. People are suffering from heat, which is assisting in the quickness of our evaporating water. Can't you feel yourselves becoming lethargic because you're just too damn hot to do anything?
Please everyone, for the sake of our Earth, just do one thing each. One small change that can fit into your day without altering your lifestyle will helo more than you may think. Simple things like:
-shutting off the water when nothing is beneath the facet
-shortening shower time
-adding a recyclables trash can to your kitchen for all recyclable wastes
-use mugs instead of disposable paper cups
-turning off unnecessary lights
-unplugging appliances (toasters, microwaves, coffee pots, tvs, etc.) when they're not in use
-walking (or biking if you have one) to nearby destinations instead of drive
-hanging laundry out to dry
-using energy saving lightbulbs
-turning down the thermostat
-only filling up tea kettles and coffee pots with the amount of water you need
-planting something
-being organic for one day a week
-taking public transportation whenever convienent
-stop littering...throw your gum in the trash...not under a table or chair or on the ground
-saving water...it can be fun...take a bath with someone you love
-declining plastic bags, even paper ones, use the resusable totes that are sold for 99 cents at the front of the line; you may even have one already that wasn't purchased from a supermarket
-insulating your water heater
The list of how to help the enviornment and fight these climate issues goes on and on and on. Just one change, big or small, from everyone will help everyone. Surely something on this list can be incorporated into your life. Fight off global warming, and save the animals that are still left in the melting ice regions of the world. It's not to late, and THERE IS something you can do.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Beginning: Halloween Short Story
During a one night stand, he was trying to make her climax when he saw one of her neck bones pierce through her skin. Blood spewed from the break in her neck, and dripped from her chin to her forehead. His body was horizontal, with only his legs resting on the bed. She was balancing on the hardwood floor on her head with her legs wrapped upward around his waist. Their pleasure was permanently ceased.
The police arrived at the seen while Chuck was still there, still somewhat naked. He had on only a robe, open in the front. Trying to remain calm and coherent while the officers investigated the scene was a mistake on Chuck’s behalf. Due to his rational statements, he appeared to lack sadness or any natural emotions for the death of his sex partner. Chuck was put in handcuffs and taken into the back of a patrol car. Chuck, out of manhood pride, still refused to allow any tears engulf his eyes. Only thoughts passed through Chuck’s head. It’s all my fault. No. Hold on it’s not. I let her pick that position, and I didn’t even like it. But she’s dead. Her last moments aren’t even going to be something her family wants to remember. I’m sure that from the beyond she despises her last moments…and me. I couldn’t even get her to orgasm before she died. Well, at least I got to. That’s better than nothing. At least I won’t hate her for dying.
Chuck faced murder trials for the proceeding six months. Amongst other evidence, a jury studied the report made by police from the night she died.
DOA (Dead on Arrival). Victim: Allison “Ally” Loveless; Female. Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Green. Ethnicity: White. Clothing: Cat ears, black and white bow tie, costume black cat tail, costume black and white suit cuffs. Cause of death: Broken neck as a result to sexual roughhousing.
Suspect: Charles “Chuck” Andrews; Male. Hair: Light Brown. Eyes: Hazel. Ethnicity: White. Clothing: Lady’s pink bathrobe, untied. Cause for suspicion: At crime scene upon arrival, expressed no remorse, implausible explanation of cause of death.
The jurors emerged from their discussion room with a unanimous verdict: guilty. Chuck was sentenced to serve one life term in prison, with a parole opportunity 15 years later. Four months and ten days into his sentence, Chuck was beaten to death by another inmate.
“And sometimes, they say, that Halloween night is the one night of the year where all of the ghouls, ghosts, and goblins may return from the Otherworld, and walk amongst ours again.” Jackson was just finishing a ghost story he was telling to his grandchildren and their friends on Halloween at their preschool.
“Why do they come back, Grandpa?” his grandson asked.
“Who knows?” Jackson was making his voice go up and down, up and down, to give an eerie affect to the story. “Maybe.” He took a long pause. Faces painted to look like fairies, vampires, and an assortment of animals all stared eagerly at Jackson, awaiting the grand finale of the story. “Maybe, they’re looking for YOU!” The children screamed, and Jackson roared with laughter slapping his inner thigh. A bell rang, and the children hollered with joy. On this day, it was time to go trick-or-treat.
As the kids dispersed the room with their moms and dads, Jackson spoke with their teacher. “Oh thank you so much for letting me visit today, sweetie.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Dad, the kids love you. They love your stories. And clearly the rest of the little ones do.”
“Yeah. They don’t know it, but their going through their most precious moments. I’m just so happy to be a part of it all. Thank you. You know I’m not like my brother, and I never was.”
“Dad, I know you’re not.”
“But they don’t. There are still some people with grudges you know.”
“Fuck ‘em.”
“Watch your language! There are children in the room.”
“Sleeping children. And believe you me, those kids go through worse than the F word at home. I know because they come in here singing obscenities like cunt, pussy, and bitch.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Jackson sighed, hurt knowing that at least half of the children he just shared a happy moment with were on their way home to be abused in one way or another. Some of them may already be being abused in their parents’ cars. “Why is the world so evil?”
“Dad, don’t ask me. Aren’t you supposed to be older and wiser, and teaching me these things?”
“It’s just tonight.”
“What about tonight? Nothing significant ever happened.”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
“Nothing. I’d best be getting home. You know I don’t want to miss those early birds.”
"Whatever you say dad. I'll be over tonight with the kids. Don't do anything too scary, okay?"
Jackson was already on his way out the door. "Oh yeah, sure. Nothing scary." Jackson smiled mischievously.
Confused and rolling her eyes, Miss Mindy cleaned the classroom and prepared to go home. She needed to get her own children ready for trick-or-treating. Because she was a teacher, however, they were never the early birds that Jackson had to rush off to.
The police arrived at the seen while Chuck was still there, still somewhat naked. He had on only a robe, open in the front. Trying to remain calm and coherent while the officers investigated the scene was a mistake on Chuck’s behalf. Due to his rational statements, he appeared to lack sadness or any natural emotions for the death of his sex partner. Chuck was put in handcuffs and taken into the back of a patrol car. Chuck, out of manhood pride, still refused to allow any tears engulf his eyes. Only thoughts passed through Chuck’s head. It’s all my fault. No. Hold on it’s not. I let her pick that position, and I didn’t even like it. But she’s dead. Her last moments aren’t even going to be something her family wants to remember. I’m sure that from the beyond she despises her last moments…and me. I couldn’t even get her to orgasm before she died. Well, at least I got to. That’s better than nothing. At least I won’t hate her for dying.
Chuck faced murder trials for the proceeding six months. Amongst other evidence, a jury studied the report made by police from the night she died.
31 October 1959 11:14 P.M.
DOA (Dead on Arrival). Victim: Allison “Ally” Loveless; Female. Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Green. Ethnicity: White. Clothing: Cat ears, black and white bow tie, costume black cat tail, costume black and white suit cuffs. Cause of death: Broken neck as a result to sexual roughhousing.
Suspect: Charles “Chuck” Andrews; Male. Hair: Light Brown. Eyes: Hazel. Ethnicity: White. Clothing: Lady’s pink bathrobe, untied. Cause for suspicion: At crime scene upon arrival, expressed no remorse, implausible explanation of cause of death.
“And sometimes, they say, that Halloween night is the one night of the year where all of the ghouls, ghosts, and goblins may return from the Otherworld, and walk amongst ours again.” Jackson was just finishing a ghost story he was telling to his grandchildren and their friends on Halloween at their preschool.
“Why do they come back, Grandpa?” his grandson asked.
“Who knows?” Jackson was making his voice go up and down, up and down, to give an eerie affect to the story. “Maybe.” He took a long pause. Faces painted to look like fairies, vampires, and an assortment of animals all stared eagerly at Jackson, awaiting the grand finale of the story. “Maybe, they’re looking for YOU!” The children screamed, and Jackson roared with laughter slapping his inner thigh. A bell rang, and the children hollered with joy. On this day, it was time to go trick-or-treat.
As the kids dispersed the room with their moms and dads, Jackson spoke with their teacher. “Oh thank you so much for letting me visit today, sweetie.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Dad, the kids love you. They love your stories. And clearly the rest of the little ones do.”
“Yeah. They don’t know it, but their going through their most precious moments. I’m just so happy to be a part of it all. Thank you. You know I’m not like my brother, and I never was.”
“Dad, I know you’re not.”
“But they don’t. There are still some people with grudges you know.”
“Fuck ‘em.”
“Watch your language! There are children in the room.”
“Sleeping children. And believe you me, those kids go through worse than the F word at home. I know because they come in here singing obscenities like cunt, pussy, and bitch.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Jackson sighed, hurt knowing that at least half of the children he just shared a happy moment with were on their way home to be abused in one way or another. Some of them may already be being abused in their parents’ cars. “Why is the world so evil?”
“Dad, don’t ask me. Aren’t you supposed to be older and wiser, and teaching me these things?”
“It’s just tonight.”
“What about tonight? Nothing significant ever happened.”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
“Nothing. I’d best be getting home. You know I don’t want to miss those early birds.”
"Whatever you say dad. I'll be over tonight with the kids. Don't do anything too scary, okay?"
Jackson was already on his way out the door. "Oh yeah, sure. Nothing scary." Jackson smiled mischievously.
Confused and rolling her eyes, Miss Mindy cleaned the classroom and prepared to go home. She needed to get her own children ready for trick-or-treating. Because she was a teacher, however, they were never the early birds that Jackson had to rush off to.
Why I love coffee shops
Life wasn’t exciting, but then I realized, it didn’t need to be. I was never meant to be content with excitement. I was never supposed to be overly enthusiastic or energetic. Looking at life now, through these new eyes, I can see that I was never more than discontent always trying to be the most fun and happy person in every group of people I was associated with.
Somehow I built up this reputation as being the friend who always knew of “cool” things to do. I was a riot. Turned out, though, that I wouldn’t contently live up to this reputation. Whoever this hyper, enthusiastic person was that I portrayed, wasn’t me. I have no idea who she is, but I am relieved to say that she is gone now. And I don’t think she’s coming back. Possibly bursts of her will arise, but not as often, or in the way I tried to force them to before.
No life wasn’t exciting like the person I was pretending to be because of this label that had been thrust upon me. And it was because of this reputation and label that I was lost in trying to make life exciting and fun for everyone, when deep down I didn’t know how to do that. It was this constant battle of trying to make myself happy by trying to make others happy by doing things that didn’t actually make me happy.
But here I am now, giving up on all that I tried to do before, sitting in a place that all my friends and family (or so it seems) would not find to be particularly fun. Well, the truth is it’s not “fun,” it’s enjoyable. Pleasant. And sweet. The aura of this room is a rich autumn amber or perhaps a deep plum purple. Everyone sits in small pairs or singly at tables and a sofa. The rain patters the windows as it pours outside, but no one complains of the “bad” weather. They all seem wholeheartedly content with it. However I must acknowledge that this belief about the weather may stem from my own passionate love of the rain.
Not only is this place, Mstreet, great, but so is this rainy time of year. Things just become orderly and cozy. People give out free compliments, and no one is overly concerned with acquiring a bikini body.
So this is it: I am not exciting. I am relaxed. I am not enthusiastic; I am calm. I am not the life of the party; I am the girl on the side seeking out intellect. I am not the singer; I write the songs. I am not the model in the magazine; I take the picture. I am not the rock star on stage; I am the author of the book. I am not at the metal show; I am at the coffee shop down the street listening to indie, folk, and punk performers. I am not dressed in miniskirts; I have a loose faded T-shirt. I don’t drink shots of espresso; I sit and enjoy my tea. I don’t go through the McDonald’s drive-thru; I sit in coffee shops eating bagels. I don’t do my hair; I keep it short and wear hats. I don’t take an hour or more to get ready; I take twenty minutes. I am not the beautiful girl buying diamonds; I’m the girl selling them to her for minimum wage. I don’t drive a convertible; I prefer hybrids and beach cruisers. I am not the girl with caked on make-up; I am the artist who put it there. I am not the girl who smokes pot to escape; I’m the one who sits in the rain. I don’t eat at Islands; I eat at Aroma Café. I am not at the loud parties; I’m making smores at a bonfire.
I am none of those things, and I am all of the other. I would rather sit in a bookstore for ten hours, over going dancing in a Hollywood club any day of the week.
Somehow I built up this reputation as being the friend who always knew of “cool” things to do. I was a riot. Turned out, though, that I wouldn’t contently live up to this reputation. Whoever this hyper, enthusiastic person was that I portrayed, wasn’t me. I have no idea who she is, but I am relieved to say that she is gone now. And I don’t think she’s coming back. Possibly bursts of her will arise, but not as often, or in the way I tried to force them to before.
No life wasn’t exciting like the person I was pretending to be because of this label that had been thrust upon me. And it was because of this reputation and label that I was lost in trying to make life exciting and fun for everyone, when deep down I didn’t know how to do that. It was this constant battle of trying to make myself happy by trying to make others happy by doing things that didn’t actually make me happy.
But here I am now, giving up on all that I tried to do before, sitting in a place that all my friends and family (or so it seems) would not find to be particularly fun. Well, the truth is it’s not “fun,” it’s enjoyable. Pleasant. And sweet. The aura of this room is a rich autumn amber or perhaps a deep plum purple. Everyone sits in small pairs or singly at tables and a sofa. The rain patters the windows as it pours outside, but no one complains of the “bad” weather. They all seem wholeheartedly content with it. However I must acknowledge that this belief about the weather may stem from my own passionate love of the rain.
Not only is this place, Mstreet, great, but so is this rainy time of year. Things just become orderly and cozy. People give out free compliments, and no one is overly concerned with acquiring a bikini body.
So this is it: I am not exciting. I am relaxed. I am not enthusiastic; I am calm. I am not the life of the party; I am the girl on the side seeking out intellect. I am not the singer; I write the songs. I am not the model in the magazine; I take the picture. I am not the rock star on stage; I am the author of the book. I am not at the metal show; I am at the coffee shop down the street listening to indie, folk, and punk performers. I am not dressed in miniskirts; I have a loose faded T-shirt. I don’t drink shots of espresso; I sit and enjoy my tea. I don’t go through the McDonald’s drive-thru; I sit in coffee shops eating bagels. I don’t do my hair; I keep it short and wear hats. I don’t take an hour or more to get ready; I take twenty minutes. I am not the beautiful girl buying diamonds; I’m the girl selling them to her for minimum wage. I don’t drive a convertible; I prefer hybrids and beach cruisers. I am not the girl with caked on make-up; I am the artist who put it there. I am not the girl who smokes pot to escape; I’m the one who sits in the rain. I don’t eat at Islands; I eat at Aroma Café. I am not at the loud parties; I’m making smores at a bonfire.
I am none of those things, and I am all of the other. I would rather sit in a bookstore for ten hours, over going dancing in a Hollywood club any day of the week.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Day 11 and on.
Anna was emitted into a mental facility for an unpredicted time span of a long-term stay. She stayed there, sharing a bunk with another patient who was stricken with silence. Her parents visited frequently, but were never able to get their traumatized daughter to utter a single syllable. Broken and hopeless, her parents ceased visiting within the first year. Anna lived on in solitude, never speaking to nurses, relatives, friends, or even her only companion: her silent roommate. She frequented suicide attempts, none of which were successful. The cruel hospital would not allow Anna her own death, the one thing that could possibly give her back her happiness.
Days 8,9, and 10.
The pattern from the seventh day repeated for the next three days. Anna’s mental state remained unchanged. The psychiatrist, her parents, and the rest of her loved ones lost all hope that her mind would stabilize. The only life expressed from Anna was her frequent attempts to kill herself in various ways. She tried slitting her wrists with scissors, she ran to jump from the window, and tried smashing her head into walls. Each attempt was prevented by physical restraint and sedation.
Day 7.
A psychiatrist was sitting at her bedside the following morning ready with an infinite list of questions. Anna never answered any question with anything more than silence. After hours of failure with Anna, the psychiatrist left, and Anna’s parents entered. They failed as well to get Anna to speak, but remained with her until midnight, when visiting hours were over.
Day 6.
Anna was holding Julien’s body in her sleep at 3 A.M. the next morning when the police found the three bodies: two dead, one live. Unsure of Anna’s state, the officers did not remove her from Julien when they awoke her. They merely nudged her awake. Anna looked around the dark field in a daze, and then looked down at the cold dead corpse she was still clenching. Tears slithered silently down her cheeks and nose. As she cried, the officers tried helping her to her feet. Her body was limp, but her arms remained firmly and tightly grasped around Julien. The officers, pitying her, did not wish to use force to remove Anna, but eventually too much time had passed, and the body needed to be taken to autopsy. They gripped her arms and pried her off of her beloved companion semi-violently. She kicked and screamed all the way to the ambulance, where she was tied down to a stretcher for her own safety and the safety of those working with her. As the doors of the ambulance closed, Anna saw Ashley’s destroyed head being zipped into a body bag.
The trip to the hospital felt longer than the time she spent with the dead Julien. She begged to see him, but all of her requests were refused. The paramedics tried to explain to her that she would be allowed to view Julien with the rest of his loved ones at his funeral. The word funeral made Anna cry like a demon from Hell. Despite the paramedics’ best efforts, Anna was inconsolable.
Anna spent the remainder of the sixth day in a hospital bed trying to kill herself. More than once nurses held her down to sedate her. As she fell asleep from the drugs injected into her body, she cried and screamed to see Julien. She repeated this cycle all through the day and night.
The trip to the hospital felt longer than the time she spent with the dead Julien. She begged to see him, but all of her requests were refused. The paramedics tried to explain to her that she would be allowed to view Julien with the rest of his loved ones at his funeral. The word funeral made Anna cry like a demon from Hell. Despite the paramedics’ best efforts, Anna was inconsolable.
Anna spent the remainder of the sixth day in a hospital bed trying to kill herself. More than once nurses held her down to sedate her. As she fell asleep from the drugs injected into her body, she cried and screamed to see Julien. She repeated this cycle all through the day and night.
Day 5: Sunrise
Ashley’s prediction was correct; she found the couple driving a few miles down the highway at speed limit. They thought they were safe. Ashley snickered. From the rearview mirror, the couple could see that their fate was beginning to be stripped away from their hands again. Ashley was taking more and more control; she was playing God: a ruthless one at that.
A light flickered on Julien and Anna’s dashboard. Their eyes met, Anna’s dripping with tears.
“We can’t pull over,” Julien said.
“We will need to soon,” Anna replied.
“There isn’t even a place for the next few miles.”
“How many miles do we have?”
“We’re below E.”
“What kind of shitty, fucking car’s gas light doesn’t come on until you’re below the E mark?”
“This kind of shitty fucking car.”
They drove on, praying for an open and lit gas station to appear on the sides of the highway. Nothing was to be found. On either side there was overgrown grass, dead bushes, dirt, and darkness. No other cars, not even semi trucks, had passed them for miles. The sights were bleak, even the ones that were not yet seen. Suddenly, a sputtering noise came from the car. The wheels rolled slower, slower, slower, stopped.
The couple was halted in the middle of the road. They were of no obstruction to any other cars, considering there was but only one other car driving this highway at sunrise on this morning, and that particular one didn’t mind at all. Ashley threw the door of her car open, and menacingly approached the stalled car in front of her.
Julien and Anna bolted from their doors; desperately trying to escape what they thought was going to be the wrath of Ashley’s ax.
They ran down the road, and soon ventured into the dirt and brush on the side of the highway. There were no real hiding places; all they could do was run and pray they stumbled across something great. Eventually all they found was taller grass and bushes, which were just barely able to conceal both of their bodies.
During their run through the emptiness, Ashley had been close behind. Once they’d found their way into the larger shrubbery, they had been harder to trace. However she knew they were not far. In the center of the tall grass, she stood motionless, listening for any movement or breathing. A lizard crawled out from some dead leaves, and she fired off a shot in its direction.
“She has a gun!” Julien exclaimed in a whisper to Anna.
She replied with tears. The couple held each other close, silently sobbing in the dirt. They kissed a number of times and mouthed out the words “I love you” and “I love you too.” Ashley, as stealthily as possible, continued to explore the field. From behind her, she heard the shrill of a woman’s sob.
A second bullet was fired from her stolen gun. This one reached its target. Ashley heard a scream and a body slump into the bush that the scream came from. Anna’s dead. Ashley nearly flew to the bush that the bullet pierced. Upon her our-of-breath arrival she hovered over Anna with a gun, which, to her surprise, was still alive.
Julien lie bleeding in Anna’s lap, groaning with pain. Anna talked him lovingly in Ashley’s presence, unaware that the gun was raised at point blank distance from her skull.
“We’ll get you help baby. Help will come. I love you. It’s going to be okay. Seattle is not much farther away.” Julien groaned after a few of Anna’s consoling statements. His eyes began to roll back into his head as he clenched at the hole in his rib cage that was pouring blood.
In disbelief that Ashley had shot the man, the lover, she had sought after all this time, she had not yet fired any rounds into Anna’s brain. She stared blankly at the dying man, whom she’d longed for since their first meeting.
“Be strong baby. We’ll make it out of this. Nothing ever breaks us.” Ashley proceeded in consoling her beloved, but quickly realized that her hopeful phrases were unrealistic. So she began to ease Julien to his death. “The pain will be over soon. This nightmare is going to end, and you’re gonna wake up from this with no pain, no suffering, and all the care and love you can imagine.” Anna didn’t know where Julien was going to wake up in his afterlife, or even if you do, but it felt like the right thing to say, so she repeated the gentle phrases again and again. Julien raised his head, his chest heaving and began to speak broken words and syllables.
“I-I-I......I’ll ne-ne…have you…a-gain. I…can’t leave…you. I-I love…you.”
Tears fell from Anna’s eyes onto Julien’s face. “I’ll always love you. You will have me again.” She kissed him to his death.
Ashley still lingered over Anna’s head. Anna never looked up. She screamed and sobbed loud enough to make all of the animals in the fields scatter.
Hesitant and shaking, Ashley cocked the gun. Anna jumped at the sound, but remained huddled over Julien, clenching his lifeless body. “I’ll be with you sooner than you think,” she whispered into his dead ear.
A shot was fired. A body fell dead. Ashley’s head was pierced with a single bullet.
“NO!” Anna shrieked with outrage.
She stumbled to Ashley’s still corpse. “You were supposed to kill me. You were supposed to kill me goddammit! No. NO!” Anna crawled back to her dead love, and cried harder than she knew she could, until she ran out of tears to cry.
A light flickered on Julien and Anna’s dashboard. Their eyes met, Anna’s dripping with tears.
“We can’t pull over,” Julien said.
“We will need to soon,” Anna replied.
“There isn’t even a place for the next few miles.”
“How many miles do we have?”
“We’re below E.”
“What kind of shitty, fucking car’s gas light doesn’t come on until you’re below the E mark?”
“This kind of shitty fucking car.”
They drove on, praying for an open and lit gas station to appear on the sides of the highway. Nothing was to be found. On either side there was overgrown grass, dead bushes, dirt, and darkness. No other cars, not even semi trucks, had passed them for miles. The sights were bleak, even the ones that were not yet seen. Suddenly, a sputtering noise came from the car. The wheels rolled slower, slower, slower, stopped.
The couple was halted in the middle of the road. They were of no obstruction to any other cars, considering there was but only one other car driving this highway at sunrise on this morning, and that particular one didn’t mind at all. Ashley threw the door of her car open, and menacingly approached the stalled car in front of her.
Julien and Anna bolted from their doors; desperately trying to escape what they thought was going to be the wrath of Ashley’s ax.
They ran down the road, and soon ventured into the dirt and brush on the side of the highway. There were no real hiding places; all they could do was run and pray they stumbled across something great. Eventually all they found was taller grass and bushes, which were just barely able to conceal both of their bodies.
During their run through the emptiness, Ashley had been close behind. Once they’d found their way into the larger shrubbery, they had been harder to trace. However she knew they were not far. In the center of the tall grass, she stood motionless, listening for any movement or breathing. A lizard crawled out from some dead leaves, and she fired off a shot in its direction.
“She has a gun!” Julien exclaimed in a whisper to Anna.
She replied with tears. The couple held each other close, silently sobbing in the dirt. They kissed a number of times and mouthed out the words “I love you” and “I love you too.” Ashley, as stealthily as possible, continued to explore the field. From behind her, she heard the shrill of a woman’s sob.
A second bullet was fired from her stolen gun. This one reached its target. Ashley heard a scream and a body slump into the bush that the scream came from. Anna’s dead. Ashley nearly flew to the bush that the bullet pierced. Upon her our-of-breath arrival she hovered over Anna with a gun, which, to her surprise, was still alive.
Julien lie bleeding in Anna’s lap, groaning with pain. Anna talked him lovingly in Ashley’s presence, unaware that the gun was raised at point blank distance from her skull.
“We’ll get you help baby. Help will come. I love you. It’s going to be okay. Seattle is not much farther away.” Julien groaned after a few of Anna’s consoling statements. His eyes began to roll back into his head as he clenched at the hole in his rib cage that was pouring blood.
In disbelief that Ashley had shot the man, the lover, she had sought after all this time, she had not yet fired any rounds into Anna’s brain. She stared blankly at the dying man, whom she’d longed for since their first meeting.
“Be strong baby. We’ll make it out of this. Nothing ever breaks us.” Ashley proceeded in consoling her beloved, but quickly realized that her hopeful phrases were unrealistic. So she began to ease Julien to his death. “The pain will be over soon. This nightmare is going to end, and you’re gonna wake up from this with no pain, no suffering, and all the care and love you can imagine.” Anna didn’t know where Julien was going to wake up in his afterlife, or even if you do, but it felt like the right thing to say, so she repeated the gentle phrases again and again. Julien raised his head, his chest heaving and began to speak broken words and syllables.
“I-I-I......I’ll ne-ne…have you…a-gain. I…can’t leave…you. I-I love…you.”
Tears fell from Anna’s eyes onto Julien’s face. “I’ll always love you. You will have me again.” She kissed him to his death.
Ashley still lingered over Anna’s head. Anna never looked up. She screamed and sobbed loud enough to make all of the animals in the fields scatter.
Hesitant and shaking, Ashley cocked the gun. Anna jumped at the sound, but remained huddled over Julien, clenching his lifeless body. “I’ll be with you sooner than you think,” she whispered into his dead ear.
A shot was fired. A body fell dead. Ashley’s head was pierced with a single bullet.
“NO!” Anna shrieked with outrage.
She stumbled to Ashley’s still corpse. “You were supposed to kill me. You were supposed to kill me goddammit! No. NO!” Anna crawled back to her dead love, and cried harder than she knew she could, until she ran out of tears to cry.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Day 5: Morning.
It was precisely midnight when Ashley left her car. She loitered outside of the motel room’s door listening for any movement coming from within. It’s too easy. She didn’t like the idea of Anna not putting up a struggle. I want the bitch to scream. I want her to beg. She made her way to the side of the motel where the garbage cans were kept. Quietly at first she rolled the lightest one to the walkway in front of Julien and Anna’s room. As she approached the door, she ran with it, and flung it into their door.
A light turned on inside.
“What the fuck?” Anna asked rhetorically.
“Don’t open it. It’s her. You know it’s her,” Julien pleaded.
“Babe, just shut up. You’re being so fucking irrational. No one’s out there except maybe a drunk or a bum, or a combination of the two.”
“Then why bother checking if you’re so goddamn certain it isn’t her?”
“Because it sounded like someone could have gotten hurt. Just stay in bed and I’ll handle it.”
Ashley, next to the door during the couple’s meager argument, laughed at Anna’s common sense. She’s even dumber than me, she concluded.
Julien jumped up from bed, and blocked the door with his body.
“Move,” Anna was pissed with her fiancé now and was making demands of him. “Do you really have to choose now to piss me off? It’s fucking midnight and I want to just go back to bed.”
“Then go back to bed and leave her out there. She just wants us to unlock the door so she can fucking get in without effort. She’s a lazy murderer.”
“Just fucking stop it!” Anna was screaming now. “Someone is probably hurt out there. Or an animal is. Either way, I just want to help whatever the fuck it is if I can. Get out of the way!”
“No.”
At this point Ashley had realized that Julien would sleep standing against that door to protect his beloved. Ashley understood that the door was never going to open willingly; there was only one thing she could do now. She ran back to her shitty car and retrieved the ax. With a running start from the car, she slung the ax into the door, and miraculously missed Julien’s head. She hacked away at the door, pleasured by the couple’s fear.
“I fucking told you she was here!” Julien screamed.
“Now’s a bad fucking time to say ‘I told you so,’” Anna bluntly replied.
Frozen, the couple stared at the door. The only movement coming from their bodies was from the sweat and tears dripping down each of their faces. They slowly slid to the floor backed against a wall, unaware that they were doing so. The two looked at each other, Julien grabbing Anna’s hand and crawled with her into the bathroom. They hid inside the locked bathroom until the blows against the main door subsided, and they heard footsteps enter the now destroyed motel room. Even though the couple knew that Ashley was aware exactly where they must be hiding, they found it necessary to remain in utter silence anyway.
“So should I count to ten? Is this like hide and seek?” The couple listened to Ashley’s sarcasm through the walls of the bathroom. Ashley began to count menacingly.
“One.”
She won’t go through with it, Anna denied to herself.
“Two.”
We’re gonna fucking die in here, Julien panicked.
“Three.”
Okay she will, Anna now admitted.
“Four.”
We’re really gonna fucking die in here. This was all Julien could think.
“Five.”
Oh merciful God, please send her away or strike her down, or fucking something, Anna prayed to the god she never believed existed before.
“Six.”
Julien rocked back and forth, his mind was numb, and his body dysfunctional.
“Seven.”
Please fucking listen to me God. Now’s a good time to show you exist. Anna was reverting to her old ways already, and stopped believing in God again.
“Eight.”
Julien continued rocking with his legs pulled to his chest.
“Nine.”
Okay fuck you God. I was right about you. You don’t fucking exist. She still had a shred of hope there was a god to protect her now, but then quickly realized again that there wasn’t, and became illogically angry with something that was a feeble creation of man’s imagination.
“Ten.”
The ax broke through the bathroom door. There was no time for thinking or rocking, just shrill, icy screams: one of a man, and one of a woman.
Meanwhile, a family of three in a room two doors down had previously called the manager to complain of a noise disturbance. However, the good-for-nothing manager took no action. At the sound of the screams, the father in the family once again called to complain, knowing once again the noise would not actually be taken care of.
“Look it sounds more serious now than just noise. Can you at least check the rooms, or outside at least to make sure your guests are all in check?” the man told the front desk.
“Sorry sir, but we do not provide catering service to our guests. Privacy is our policy.” The girl at the front desk hung up the phone.
So after making the complaint call to the motel desk, he called the police to report a domestic disturbance. After explaining what could be heard from the family’s room an officer replied, “We’re on our way.”
Relieved the couple and their young son attempted sleeping again. The mother and boy were successful, although the father was not.
Back in the room, Ashley slugged at the bathroom door with the ax. The couple was desperately trying to squeeze out of a barred up window. Time passed slowly, partly because of the intensity of the situation, and partly because Ashley was not strong enough knock down the door quickly even with an ax in her grasp.
The door was finally demolished enough for Ashley to slip in. She told Julien not to worry, that he was safe in her care. “I love you baby. I wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you. I wouldn’t remove once hair on your head.”
Julien placed himself directly between the women in defense of Anna. Ashley roared with laughter.
“Honey, if I have to hurt you then I will. I just don’t want to.” Ashley explained to Julien.
He swallowed the saliva in his throat, and closed his eyes. Ashley held a staring contest with Julien’s closed lids for what seemed like hours.
The father of the family also residing at the motel waited up for the police. He felt they were taking to long to arrive, and finally set out to discover what mischief was taking place for himself. He immediately found the broken down door two rooms away from his. Out of sheer curiosity, he silently peeked inside. No blood or people directly in sight, but another broken down door to the bathroom. Through bravery and stupidity, he set foot into the room. He overheard a one-sided conversation between Ashley and the couple.
“You know you really are screwed,” Ashley said. “I mean I am sparing you for the time being. But, I mean, that’s just the time being. Who knows? Could be minutes, hell could be hours until I decide to end all this shit. But I will tell you this. You don’t have until…” Ashley’s sentenced trailed off. Something taking place in the main room drew her attention.
Despite how quietly the father had initially slipped into the room, Ashley was able to hear him crunch a board in the first doorway. She smirked at the couple, and turned towards the noise of the now ever more broken piece of wood.
The father saw Ashley step out from the bathroom, the ax still in her hand. “I won’t…” His sentence ended there. Before he could get another word out Ashley had flung her weapon across the short distance of the room, and into his head. Blood splattered on the walls and bed. The area of floor which he’d been standing was now soaked in fresh pools of blood. Ashley walked towards the lifeless body to remove her weapon, which happened to be the only one she brought into the room with her.
Julien seized the opportunity. With a piece of broken wood he struck her over the side of her face, knocking her to the ground. Anna burst out of the bathroom with lamp from inside of it, which had been sitting on the counter, and added to her fiancé’s blows. When she was distraught enough, Julien yanked Anna be the arm, which was still mildly sore from her depo shot, and raced out to their car.
Ashley, finding the strength to get up from her beating, ripped the ax from the dead man’s head and followed the couple. First, she attempted to catch them while they were getting to their car, but as she approached, they’d safely made it inside. While running back to her black sedan, the couple ignited the engine and sped away. As they were leaving, police were just appearing at the crime scene that was still taking place. Hearing the sirens, Ashley found a hiding place. The cops quickly headed for the room with the busted door. Upon approaching the door, they instantly found the body of the father and called for an ambulance and back up.
Ashley was hidden in the bed of a pick-up truck when the cops had entered the room. After taking a peak, and seeing that the officers were within the walls of the murder site, she slid out the side of the bed of the truck. Ax still in hand, she took place directly next to the doorway and waited for the police to emerge. As one did, she slung the ax into his throat. The other rushed to aid him, and she repeated the same action.
With the officers’ guns now, Ashley got into her car, and went off to find Julien and Anna once again. Concluding not many cars were on the road so late at night, finding them would be easy.
Back at the crime scene, the EMT’s and back up officers found three victims dead upon arrival. Victim one: Officer J. Randall. Ethnicity: white. Age: 25. Weight: 165 lbs. Height: 5’10”. Eyes: blue. Hair: dark brown. Victim two: Officer R. L. Williams. Ethnicity: black. Age: 29. Weight: 190 lbs. Height: 6’0”. Eyes: brown. Hair: black. Victim three: Kyle Reynolds. Ethnicity: white. Age: 36. Weight: 170 lbs. Height: 5’9”. Eyes: blue. Hair: blonde.
A light turned on inside.
“What the fuck?” Anna asked rhetorically.
“Don’t open it. It’s her. You know it’s her,” Julien pleaded.
“Babe, just shut up. You’re being so fucking irrational. No one’s out there except maybe a drunk or a bum, or a combination of the two.”
“Then why bother checking if you’re so goddamn certain it isn’t her?”
“Because it sounded like someone could have gotten hurt. Just stay in bed and I’ll handle it.”
Ashley, next to the door during the couple’s meager argument, laughed at Anna’s common sense. She’s even dumber than me, she concluded.
Julien jumped up from bed, and blocked the door with his body.
“Move,” Anna was pissed with her fiancé now and was making demands of him. “Do you really have to choose now to piss me off? It’s fucking midnight and I want to just go back to bed.”
“Then go back to bed and leave her out there. She just wants us to unlock the door so she can fucking get in without effort. She’s a lazy murderer.”
“Just fucking stop it!” Anna was screaming now. “Someone is probably hurt out there. Or an animal is. Either way, I just want to help whatever the fuck it is if I can. Get out of the way!”
“No.”
At this point Ashley had realized that Julien would sleep standing against that door to protect his beloved. Ashley understood that the door was never going to open willingly; there was only one thing she could do now. She ran back to her shitty car and retrieved the ax. With a running start from the car, she slung the ax into the door, and miraculously missed Julien’s head. She hacked away at the door, pleasured by the couple’s fear.
“I fucking told you she was here!” Julien screamed.
“Now’s a bad fucking time to say ‘I told you so,’” Anna bluntly replied.
Frozen, the couple stared at the door. The only movement coming from their bodies was from the sweat and tears dripping down each of their faces. They slowly slid to the floor backed against a wall, unaware that they were doing so. The two looked at each other, Julien grabbing Anna’s hand and crawled with her into the bathroom. They hid inside the locked bathroom until the blows against the main door subsided, and they heard footsteps enter the now destroyed motel room. Even though the couple knew that Ashley was aware exactly where they must be hiding, they found it necessary to remain in utter silence anyway.
“So should I count to ten? Is this like hide and seek?” The couple listened to Ashley’s sarcasm through the walls of the bathroom. Ashley began to count menacingly.
“One.”
She won’t go through with it, Anna denied to herself.
“Two.”
We’re gonna fucking die in here, Julien panicked.
“Three.”
Okay she will, Anna now admitted.
“Four.”
We’re really gonna fucking die in here. This was all Julien could think.
“Five.”
Oh merciful God, please send her away or strike her down, or fucking something, Anna prayed to the god she never believed existed before.
“Six.”
Julien rocked back and forth, his mind was numb, and his body dysfunctional.
“Seven.”
Please fucking listen to me God. Now’s a good time to show you exist. Anna was reverting to her old ways already, and stopped believing in God again.
“Eight.”
Julien continued rocking with his legs pulled to his chest.
“Nine.”
Okay fuck you God. I was right about you. You don’t fucking exist. She still had a shred of hope there was a god to protect her now, but then quickly realized again that there wasn’t, and became illogically angry with something that was a feeble creation of man’s imagination.
“Ten.”
The ax broke through the bathroom door. There was no time for thinking or rocking, just shrill, icy screams: one of a man, and one of a woman.
Meanwhile, a family of three in a room two doors down had previously called the manager to complain of a noise disturbance. However, the good-for-nothing manager took no action. At the sound of the screams, the father in the family once again called to complain, knowing once again the noise would not actually be taken care of.
“Look it sounds more serious now than just noise. Can you at least check the rooms, or outside at least to make sure your guests are all in check?” the man told the front desk.
“Sorry sir, but we do not provide catering service to our guests. Privacy is our policy.” The girl at the front desk hung up the phone.
So after making the complaint call to the motel desk, he called the police to report a domestic disturbance. After explaining what could be heard from the family’s room an officer replied, “We’re on our way.”
Relieved the couple and their young son attempted sleeping again. The mother and boy were successful, although the father was not.
Back in the room, Ashley slugged at the bathroom door with the ax. The couple was desperately trying to squeeze out of a barred up window. Time passed slowly, partly because of the intensity of the situation, and partly because Ashley was not strong enough knock down the door quickly even with an ax in her grasp.
The door was finally demolished enough for Ashley to slip in. She told Julien not to worry, that he was safe in her care. “I love you baby. I wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you. I wouldn’t remove once hair on your head.”
Julien placed himself directly between the women in defense of Anna. Ashley roared with laughter.
“Honey, if I have to hurt you then I will. I just don’t want to.” Ashley explained to Julien.
He swallowed the saliva in his throat, and closed his eyes. Ashley held a staring contest with Julien’s closed lids for what seemed like hours.
The father of the family also residing at the motel waited up for the police. He felt they were taking to long to arrive, and finally set out to discover what mischief was taking place for himself. He immediately found the broken down door two rooms away from his. Out of sheer curiosity, he silently peeked inside. No blood or people directly in sight, but another broken down door to the bathroom. Through bravery and stupidity, he set foot into the room. He overheard a one-sided conversation between Ashley and the couple.
“You know you really are screwed,” Ashley said. “I mean I am sparing you for the time being. But, I mean, that’s just the time being. Who knows? Could be minutes, hell could be hours until I decide to end all this shit. But I will tell you this. You don’t have until…” Ashley’s sentenced trailed off. Something taking place in the main room drew her attention.
Despite how quietly the father had initially slipped into the room, Ashley was able to hear him crunch a board in the first doorway. She smirked at the couple, and turned towards the noise of the now ever more broken piece of wood.
The father saw Ashley step out from the bathroom, the ax still in her hand. “I won’t…” His sentence ended there. Before he could get another word out Ashley had flung her weapon across the short distance of the room, and into his head. Blood splattered on the walls and bed. The area of floor which he’d been standing was now soaked in fresh pools of blood. Ashley walked towards the lifeless body to remove her weapon, which happened to be the only one she brought into the room with her.
Julien seized the opportunity. With a piece of broken wood he struck her over the side of her face, knocking her to the ground. Anna burst out of the bathroom with lamp from inside of it, which had been sitting on the counter, and added to her fiancé’s blows. When she was distraught enough, Julien yanked Anna be the arm, which was still mildly sore from her depo shot, and raced out to their car.
Ashley, finding the strength to get up from her beating, ripped the ax from the dead man’s head and followed the couple. First, she attempted to catch them while they were getting to their car, but as she approached, they’d safely made it inside. While running back to her black sedan, the couple ignited the engine and sped away. As they were leaving, police were just appearing at the crime scene that was still taking place. Hearing the sirens, Ashley found a hiding place. The cops quickly headed for the room with the busted door. Upon approaching the door, they instantly found the body of the father and called for an ambulance and back up.
Ashley was hidden in the bed of a pick-up truck when the cops had entered the room. After taking a peak, and seeing that the officers were within the walls of the murder site, she slid out the side of the bed of the truck. Ax still in hand, she took place directly next to the doorway and waited for the police to emerge. As one did, she slung the ax into his throat. The other rushed to aid him, and she repeated the same action.
With the officers’ guns now, Ashley got into her car, and went off to find Julien and Anna once again. Concluding not many cars were on the road so late at night, finding them would be easy.
Back at the crime scene, the EMT’s and back up officers found three victims dead upon arrival. Victim one: Officer J. Randall. Ethnicity: white. Age: 25. Weight: 165 lbs. Height: 5’10”. Eyes: blue. Hair: dark brown. Victim two: Officer R. L. Williams. Ethnicity: black. Age: 29. Weight: 190 lbs. Height: 6’0”. Eyes: brown. Hair: black. Victim three: Kyle Reynolds. Ethnicity: white. Age: 36. Weight: 170 lbs. Height: 5’9”. Eyes: blue. Hair: blonde.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)