Posts Tagged ‘fiction’

Move…

Posted: August 4, 2020 in Uncategorized
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The pains would start again soon. Blood and fluid oozed down her legs as she cradled the infant tight to her chest, its warm breath on her sweaty skin. It did not cry.

She knew it was not over but the brief respite gave her a chance to move…

Fault…

Posted: June 12, 2020 in Uncategorized
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Realising it was you all along is a right bastard.  

As Vicky sipped the dregs of her flat beer, her balled up knickers stuffed into her skinny blue jeans, she had run out of excuses.  

“He had a problem…”

“He was threatened by my success…”

“I was too horny for him…”

After all of the excuses had gone there was only one reason remaining…

“I was too much of a bitch and a nightmare to live with.”

The relationship had started like they all had…a touch of the arm, a smile and the guy was hooked.  Vicky had never struggled getting a bloke, she set her targets on them and she rarely missed.  A slim, brunette with olive tanned skin, she was any man’s dream and they were never disappointed.  No, getting them was easy, but keeping them was hard. Now, as she sat on the cold curb she contemplated the reason…it was his fault.  

“No Vicky, you stupid cow”  She thought to herself, “This is your fault.”

 

Is this the biggest mistake I’ve ever made?

That was what Sarah contemplated as she stared at the faint light of the distant streetlight creeping through her curtains. It wasn’t unusual for her to be awake in the middle of the night, she was very used to the sleepless curse. Anyone who says they were ‘up all night’ or ‘didn’t get a wink of sleep’ hasn’t felt the hand of insomnia because, when you actually stay awake all night it’s a very different thing. The average work day is 8 hours and that seems long, right? Now imagine spending those 8 hours on your own whilst the rest of the world sleeps? It feels 4 times longer. Those people who moan probably are awake for 20 minutes, half an hour in reality because, when you actually stay awake all night you damn well know about it.

The worst part was the dreams. Not nice dreams about fluffy unicorns or rainbows; she just guessed this was what other people dreamt about having never experienced such normality. No, these were terrible flashes that crossed her eyes every time her body began to give in to sleep. Images of faces sweeping towards her; a car smashing into yours. You feel your body lurch as it forces you back awake, your body shaking with Adrenalin and fear. This goes on for hours and hours till you realise it’s time for your alarm clock to go off and you resign yourself to another day of caffeine fuelled hell.

There was usually a reason and Sarah knew exactly what had revived her insomnia…it was him.

The moment you decide to kill is not what you’d think. You would expect it to be born in anger, a flash of madness that overcomes you and leads you to insanity. Instead, it is a feeling of serenity. When the decision is made there is only peace; a calmness that enveloped you and allows the thinker to be finally at rest.

That was how Sarah felt as she prepared to kill, for what would be the first and last time. She knew it was wrong but, as the decision began to develop in her mind, she felt that swell of quiet composure that she had longed for.

A black cloud descends around me and the world again goes dark; colours drain and the light loses its shimmer.  I know the world is there through the obscured perspex that covers my eyes, a distorted reality just out of reach.  The storm ominously hangs around me, a dark presence pressing down on me, making it impossible to breathe and gather my chaotic thoughts.

I run…I move ahead…but the icy cold breeze bites at my exposed skin, and i can feel its grip tighten on my weakening body. I can hear it, mocking me, laughing at my actions with a callous snarl. “What do you think you are doing,” it sneers, “You can’t do that, you’re not strong enough.” until the cacophony deafens my ears with its constant attack.

There is no release, no chance of relaxation.  A never relenting barrage of darkness that consumes your soul, and everyone around you.  There is no escape because the darkness is you.

She stood silent.  The wind whipped around her, making her hair tie itself into a thousand knots but she stood…silent.  The world around ebbed and flowed in its usual chaotic manner, never stopping to take a breath as it hastened around in an endless tirade of entropy.   Caught in a whirlwind of unpredictability she had become accustomed to the overwhelming loss of control but had never tried to step away, but now it had forced her to be…silent.

 

The day had started as usual, locked in the normality of the humdrum but longing to flee.  The dark cloud followed her, walking in her shadows, never letting her escape the feeling of dread and despair that had plagued her for as long as she could remember.  Was there a beginning, she couldn’t remember but she knew there would never be an end. It followed her, watched her and twisted her thoughts into blackened images of an inverted reality until it was impossible to see the truth through the distorted lies.    

He looked at his expectant face with sorrow. Tears ran down his little face as the rain splattered against the window and flooded the patio in glistening puddles of water. The rocket ship, once a magnificent monument of papier-mâché and PVA glue, was now a twisted, soggy mess with the painstaking artwork of a five year old dripping onto the concrete.

The father sighed. The opportunity to spend a magical moment with his estranged son was ebbing away and he could hear the disappointment in the child’s voice. “It’s ok son, we’ll build another one next time you’re over. It’ll be even bigger and better than this one.”

The son shrugged. He knew that that could be weeks away but he smiled anyway. “Ok dad, we’ll make it big enough to get inside and then we can fly off to the moon.”

“Sounds great,” Dad rejoiced in the innocence of his boy. Handing him a spoon, they eagerly tucked into the ice cream and watched the lightning flash across the darkened sky.

“Do you think they have ice cream on the moon, dad?”

“Maybe, but we’ll pack some just in case.”

Seconds, maybe minutes passed. His eyes, yellow flecks swirling in grey, deep pools stared at her, burning into her mind with ever increasing intensity. Unable to to look away, her gaze unblinking and focused, like an invisible beam drawing her closer to him. Images filled her mind, his thoughts flooding into her conscious. Bad thoughts, dark thoughts, some so depraved that she felt a sickness fill her throat and she longed to look away but they were inside her head, becoming part of her.

“I can’t…” she murmured, the sound of her voice sounded distant through the cacophony of voices enveloping her. “No more…”

With a sigh he closed his eyes and her body crumpled to the dusty, dry earth.

“Never ask again, this is proof that you are not and never will be ready to know me.” He stared down at her sobbing frame and he was shrouded in sorrow. She should have been the one and if not her, who…

The gnarled joints twisted and jerked as her body remembered the gracefulness of youth, 70 years of memories flooding through her muscles like electricity; the dancer was reborn. With a creak and a crack an elegant line was stretched between hand and foot, although the route was less smooth now, scattered with age spots and varicose veins. But she held her head high; her still dainty neck and delicate shoulders wore the contours of age in gentle creases but her eyes, once tired, now sparkled with exuberance. She smiled. She knew her lines were bent and her posture poor but for a moment she was once again that timeless beauty of 1955.

The juices dripped off the roasting meat hanging from the makeshift grill and sizzled as they hit the fire below.  Thom didn’t know what meat it was; he didn’t dare ask. Instead, ravenous from the long walk, he tucked in regardless, far too hungry to care.

It had been almost midnight when they had finally stopped, choosing a little sheltered clearing as their campsite.  But it wasn’t like any campsite Thom was used to.  Stephen gathered together some branches, suspended from two adjoining trees and arranged the leaves underneath as a mattress. It was low, just enough room to crawl inside and barely a metre wide.  Thom wondered how the three of them were going to all sleep in there but he soon realised Stephen had no intention of resting.  

“Come on now, get your heads down. It will be sunrise soon and you need to get some sleep if you’re going to be any good to anyone tomorrow.” As he spoke, Stephen’s eyes searched around in the darkness and his hand rested on side. Thom guessed he had a gun there, but he had not yet seen it.

“Shall I take the first shift?” Alex asked confidently.