Story #40

“I had quite the party life when I was your age,” Lucille told Hannah while sipping a hot cup of lemon tea.

“Really, grandma? You never talked about it in the past,” Hannah retorted.

“In the past, you were too young to hear my stories, darling. How old are you again: 25, 26…?” Lucille’s voice trailed off as she froze, lost in her own thoughts.

“I’m 27 now, grandma. Are you okay?” Hannah placed a loving hand on her grandma’s shoulder, a concerned look painting her worn out face.

Lucille snapped out of her trance and pet her granddaughter’s hand. “I’m fine, darling. So 27! That’s a great age. When I was 27, I was bouncing in and out of nightclubs with my friends. Oh we had the best time! My signature drink was basically anything with tequila. Back then I had no limitations or obligations. I was just free to live.” Lucille shook her head and stared at Hannah. “Hannah, I’m worried about you.”

Hannah quizzically stared at Lucille, then chuckled. “Why are you worried about me? My life is wonderful. I have a stable relationship, a career, and on the way to buying a new house with the love of my life. I’m great.” She gave a faint smile that said otherwise.

“I don’t want you to have the life I lived,” Lucille said.

“But I’m not. My life sounds like the complete opposite of yours at 27! I rarely, if ever, go out. I have too much to do. It’s not easy being this amazing AND this young in 2090.” Hannah grinned at Lucille. “You should be proud of me.”

Lucille scrunched up her face. “Of course I’m proud of you! And I meant that I want you to have at least a glimpse of the life I had. It was so much fun! You look exhausted, darling. You deserve a dose or two of fun, doctor’s orders.”

Hannah looked up at the giant clock across the room. “I’m having fun being successful, but on that note, I have to go. I have an appointment at…”

“Just leave,” Lucille interjected. She turned her head and looked out into the garden, which was projected on a giant screen that had the word tranquility written in black cursive towards the top of the screen, or “sky”.

Hannah robotically stood up and hugged Lucille, who did not reciprocate the gesture. “I love you,  grandma. Tell me some stories the next time I visit, okay? See you in a couple of days.” She bent down and kissed Lucille on the cheek.

Once Hannah was out of sight, Lucille blinked away a few tears. She thought about how her life really was at 27 and how it actually changed her. She also had a career, along with a flame of a relationship that dimmed her shine. Her granddaughter’s life was a splitting image of hers, and that made her feel sorry for Hannah. She was anxious to see Hannah blossom the way she didn’t have the courage to at her age. At Hannah’s age, she felt trapped. There were endless limitations and infinite obligations.

A nurse suddenly appeared in front of Lucille.”Ms. Lucille, it’s time for your medicine. Look into the light.” Lucille did as instructed, not even blinking when the blinding flash illumimated the room. After a few minutes, her eyes adjusted and everything looked bright again. “How do you feel,” the nurse asked.

“Like I’m 27 again,” Lucille replied, allowing a single tear to fall from one of her eyes.

Only a month of school left. I shall write more stories on the regular again pretty soon.

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Story #36

He gently slid his rough, masculine hand down the same face that he punched the night before. The same mouth that constantly belittled Joy kissed the old bruises on her neck.

“We can finally become a real family,” he whispered, rubbing his hand on her belly. 

A few days ago, Joy had found out that she was pregnant. Her heart had sank and she planned on taking care of it…but there wasn’t any place to hide the test or the wrapper. She had stuffed them both under tissue in the bathroom trashcan, the only place she could think of. When Ben had come home from the bar that evening, he stumbled over the trashcan in the bathroom. His blurred vision focused on a plastic unlike the tissue around it. There, in the pile of desperate hope, laid the wrapper and the test. His eyes lit up.
Unfortunately, his happiness had faded as quick as his anger had rushed in. “JOY!” The woman, trembling with fear, ran into the bathroom. “Yes, honey,” she asked. “Pick this shit up. All of it.” Without a second thought she dove to the ground, frantically picking up the tissue. Her thin, shaky hands threw the tissue, wrapper, and test in the trashcan. “Is it mine,” his slurred voice asked. She nodded and he grabbed her, whisking her off her feet. She flinched and nearly collapsed back to the floor. He had kissed her and said, “I’m going to be a daddy. I love you.” Instantly, she had cried, knowing that it was too late to take care of business. The rest of the night was peaceful.

Ben had a short temper, but anyone that knew him thought that he was an angel. He even fooled Joy sometimes. It was only 3 days after he found out about the pregnancy, that he hit Joy again. She was convinced that things would change with him because it had been so long since he hurt her. She was wrong. The mistake this time was serving him cold dinner.

He touched the chicken on the plate. “What the hell is this,” he inquired in the softest tone Joy had ever heard.

“It’s chicken, babe. I made your favorite.” Joy smiled lovingly.

“HOT chicken is my favorite, not cold,” he replied. Ben calmly set down his fork and knife.

“Okay…I’ll heat it up for you.”

Joy stood up and just as she grabbed his plate, he stabbed her hand with the knife. Blood drained from her hand as she screamed. Ben started laughing.

“It’s just a little blood,” he chimed. Joy ran to the sink to run water over her hand. She continued to scream as large tears streamed down her face.

Ben stopped laughing. “Stop it, Joy. You’ll wake the neighbors.” Joy continued crying loudly. Ben stood up and yelled, “Stop crying!” Joy tried to suck in her breaths, but she couldn’t stop. Suddenly, Ben took two swift steps towards the sink and punched Joy in the face. “Snap out of it and stop crying,” his deep voice bellowed.

Joy fell back, stunned and terrified. She reflexively put one hand over her face and held the bloody one up as a shield. Ben stormed out the kitchen into the living room. “Clean that blood up and bring me a beer when you’re done,” he hissed.

The next day, Joy woke up to a room full of roses. At first she thought she had died and gone to Heaven. When she sat up, she saw Ben sitting on the small love seat next to the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up and smiled radiantly. “Good morning, mommy-to-be. I’ve been waiting for you to get up.” Joy slowly sat up, her face still sore from the blow. “What is all this,” she asked.

“A sneak peek to what I have in store for you today.” It was as if all memory of the prior evening had faded. He was absolutely insane. Joy mustered up a faint smile. “I’m so excited,” she said.

The day was a blur of dining out, going shopping, and getting a makeover. “My girl was robbed and beaten last night,” Ben told the cosmetologist. “So I wanted to spoil her and make her feel good again.” The cosmetologist beamed. “Well aren’t you lucky to have a boyfriend so sweet,” she asked while goving Joy a little squeeze on the shoulder. Joy looked at Ben and said, “So lucky.”

That evening Ben checked them into a fancy hotel. He placed the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door handle. As soon as the door closed, he began kissing her. It took everything in Joy to stop herself from backing away from him. “I have one more surprise for you,” Ben whispered.

He got down on one knee and pulled out a small, black box. “Joy, will you do the honor of making me the luckiest man alive?”

Joy broke down. Angry tears streamed from her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She was mad, but more than anything, she was afraid. If she said no, what would he do to her? She shook her head yes and he slid the ring on her finger.

“We can finally become a real family.” Ben lovingly rubbed her belly. He hugged her tight, nearly squeezing the air from her lungs. She realized in that moment that she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

Best Friend

Best Friend

It was afternoon when the girl received the text. Her heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces.

When she arrived to the house, he continued to lay there. It was as if his body was frozen on the hardwood floor. “Hey, bud, are you awake,” she asked. When she slid the chair across the floor, the old dog propped his head up. His bones ached as he stretched and tried his best to get up. “It’s okay, you can stay laying down. I’ll come to you,” she said. She sat down on the floor next to him, staring into his glossy, marble eyes. She felt her own eyes begin to swell up with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she said. She stroked his long, golden fur. He laid his head on her lap. It was peaceful.

He had been around for 14 years and he was her first best friend. She remembered when she got him in 7th grade. Back then she was afraid of dogs, now all she wanted to do was cradle the senior citizen dog. He looked up at her with curious eyes even though he was almost blind. His tail didn’t wag because it couldn’t. He didn’t sit up like he used to because he couldn’t. All he did was stare.

“I should’ve never left you when I was in college. I know I should’ve brought you with me, and I’m sorry that when I came back I didn’t cherish you like I used to…but I want you to know that I’ll always love you and you’ll always be in my heart.”

She sniffed and wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked up, grabbed a spoon, and opened the peanut butter jar. His little face seemed to perk up. His eyes almost sparkled. She took a spoonful of peanut butter, and fed it to her dog. Because he was so old, he tried to chew the spoon instead of lick it. Peanut butter hung from his snout until he realized it was there. He licked his lips and looked up, begging for more. She laughed. When the spoon was licked clean, she threw it away.

The sun was beginning to set and she had to go home. She hugged him as hard as she could, which wasn’t that hard because he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He stood there, frozen in place. She kissed him on his cheek and said, “Bye, Joe. I’ll see you next time.”

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I’ll never forget you, Joe.

Power.

Dainty women in high heels,

Passing out meat pinwheels,

Serving the men as they all chatter.

 

Bending over oh so primly

So you don’t see above the knee.

Nobody wants to be called a slut.


Some men give a quick, hard smack,

Others rub the small of backs.

They think that they’re the ones that matter.

 

Ignorance will make men suffer

With the women always tougher.

The meat given is poison in their gut.

It’s been an extremely long time awhile since I’ve written anything on here. I thought I lost my mojo, and I probably did.  Too many outside influences fed into my mental block and eventually it felt like my writing annoyed people more than it made me feel good. I can’t won’t write as much as I did over the summer since school has started again (and I’m a teacher with students that depend on me), but I will try my best to write more often. I’ve missed this even more than I realized.

I’m back.

Story #34

The sound of gun shots and helicopters boomed from Howard’s room. He furiously tapped the buttons on his controller. His mom walked in and turned down the sound.

“Mom! I’m playing,” he yelled.

His mom put a hand on her hip and said, “Do you have any homework?”

“No, I did it in class.” He maneuvered his head around to focus on the game. His mom stood directly in front of the tv.

“Where’s your report card, Howard?”

Howard paused his game. “We don’t get them until Friday, mom. Now can I keep playing the game?”

His mom threw her hands up in the air. “Fine, but bedtime is in 30 minutes, young man.” She walked out his room and shut the door behind her.

Howard pressed START on the controller and turned up the sound to drown out the sound of him unzipping his backpack. He took out a crumpled envelope that said TO THE PARENTS OF HOWARD LEWIS. He took out the report card with the note attached. Before he could rip it up, his mom walked in without knocking.

“Hey, I was wondering if…wait, what is that?”

Howard quickly put the paper behind his back. “It’s just homework. I was looking over it again.”

His mom grabbed the paper and stared at the note and grades. She read the part about him possibly being held back out loud. She glanced back at Howard whose head was down. Without saying a word, she unplugged his XBOX One and threw it on the ground.

“Mom, no!” The console instantly broke into three large pieces. She unplugged the TV and put it in the garage. “You only have 9 weeks left before this school year is over and you’re going to eat, sleep, and BREATHE school! No more video games, computer, TV, or anything. No sleep overs, no playing outside, no NOTHING, so don’t ask!” Howard teared up and shook his head up and down.

Lol this story sucked. My excuse is that I’m hanging out with my little cousin.

Story #33

I stared at my bowl of salad while my friends engulfed large slices of pepperoni pizza. Grease covered their hands and dribbled from their lips. They looked like they were in heaven. I looked down at my leafy lunch choice and sighed. This was only day three of my diet.

“Oh, man, I’m stuffed. Does anyone want the last slice,” Bert asked. Everyone shook their head no. “Mari? You didn’t eat much. Take the last slice.”

Before I could refuse, he placed the slice in a to-go container. “Thanks, B.” I gave a half-hearted smile. In my head I was cursing myself for not being more restrained.

When I got home, I sprinkled more cheese on the slice of pizza and drenched it in ranch dressing. The slice was gone within seconds. Ranch dribbled down my stuffed mouth. I sighed and looked in the fridge. I knew I should at least drink water, but I went for the unfinished Dr. Pepper instead. Day three was ruined.

I walked to the bathroom, peeled off my tight clothes, and stared at my naked body. Rolls and folds of fat covered my sides. My arms were the size of a chunky teenager’s thighs. Cellulite sprinkled my arms and covered my legs. They were the battle scars from the food wars I lost over the years. My stomach. Oh, God, my stomach. It was a massive chunk of fat. There was enough fat in there to keep all of Alaska fed and warm. My blubber.

I stood on my scale and attempted to look at the number. My stomach blocked the view so much that I had to grab my phone and take pictures of number. 396.7 lbs. Tears rolled down my chubby cheeks and made their way to my chins. Once the crying stopped, I threw on some clothes to exercise in. One day, I’ll be 185 lbs – my goal weight. Until then, I couldn’t give up.

This was easy to write. I went out drinking with friends yesterday and one of them bought pizza. I hadn’t had pizza in awhile, but I broke down and  ate TWO slices. I felt gross. My wonderfully thin friend ate around 4 slices & had some wings. *sigh* Weight is an ongoing battle for me. I don’t   look like Mari from my story, but the possibility is there. Fortunately my sweet puppy keeps me active these days.♡

Story #31

The phone rang.

“11pm. 54th & Condor.” *click*

I cocked my gun and placed it in the holster disguised by my jacket. The man in the corner whined, trying his best to squeeze his hands out of the cuffs. I placed a finger over the gag & rope covering his mouth. “Shhhh…” Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t make a sound. “Good boy. If I see anyone snooping around because you made a noise, I’ll murder your whole family. I know where you live. Nod if you understand.” The man nodded.

Within 15 minutes I was at the drop. There was only one dim streetlight. Very few cars passed, but none of them stopped. It was a Tuesday so I didn’t expect much traffic, especially at this time of night. I turned off my car and squatted next to it. A car with its lights off slowly pulled up to the corner.

A man in a hoodie got out of the car and started walking forward. I could tell that it was Domingo, the bodyguard, by the way he walked. When he got closer I stood up and pointed my gun at his forehead. He quickly reached for the weapon at his hip, but I was faster. I shot him once in the stomach and a second time in the forehead. The giant, muscular man fell back with a loud thud.

I started running towards the car to shoot anyone else that was in there. I threw open the door and my son threw his hands uo and walked out the car.

“Dad, you’re making a mistake. They’ll kill me AND you if you take me away. I’ll just go to Hugo and tell him Domingo was shot by a druggie. You have to leave now!”

My son, the thug. It hurt to see him like this. His pupils were dilated, most likely from whatever his gang was selling. He waved me away. I refused to move.

“Get the fuck out of here, old man,” a voice behind me said.

I slowly turned to see some skinny thug pointing a gun at my head. “Listen to your bitch ass son. Drop your weapon before you get hurt.” I turned back to my son, who mouthed the word go. I shook my head and walked back to my car.

When I got back to my basement, the man I was holding hostage was gone. The cuffs were still locked, which meant he broke his hand or something of that nature to get free. I examined every aspect of my house, but found no one. I sat on the edge of my bed, hunched over, and cried. Everything would have been different if my wife was still alive. The only reason Frank, my son, joined that stupid gang is because he was lost without his mother. I crawled into bed and fell asleep in my pool of tears.

Around 4am a loud bang was heard at my door. Startled, I grabbed my gun and slowly made my way to the front door. When I opened it, my son’s limp body laid on my doorstep covered in blood. His face was so swollen he was hardly recognizable. A car facing the door turned on its lights and sped away. I dropped to my knees and held my son for the first time in months. I cried for what felt like hours before I decided what to do next. My son’s blood stained my dirty hands as I grabbed my guns and filled my car. I didn’t care what it would take. Evedy single one of those fuckers had a death wish and I was coming to grant it.

I’ve been watching a LOT of Breaking Bad.