POS

 

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Looking back, it could have gone either way. It didn’t work out, which makes it look like fate, or a stupid decision, or both. But at the time, I did have a few things in my favor. I had ….

my freedom and what I thought was a bright future ahead of me. Instead of a thrilling city, I ended up back at home, living with my mom and dad. To top it all off, I was bed ridden for the next several weeks too. At least until my legs healed. How had I fallen so far so fast?

It all started with a car – a piece of shit car in fact. My father gave it to me on my 16th birthday. It didn’t run well and it looked like utter crap.

I didn’t realize at first, but it was the best gift anyone had ever given me. Every time it needed repaired, my dad would set aside time to take me out to the garage and teach me how to fix it myself.

Once I gave it a chance, I was hooked. I fell in love with fixing and improving my POS. Within a year, it was no longer running horribly. It still looked awful but it ran like a beast. The last two years of high school flew by because of that car. Either I was at work or fixing my car, and I only worked so I would have money to put into my car.

High school came and went and even more to my surprise, on graduation day, my parents announced that I had a trust fund left behind by my grandparents. All of my college expenses would be paid for and then some. I’d already applied and been accepted to City College and now with my new fortune, I couldn’t wait to leave.

It wasn’t long after settling in at school, that I met some like-minded companions who were also into all things automobile related. They introduced to the world of underground racing.

And I was good at it. Even in my POS, I won a lot of races and made a lot of money. Not that I cared though because everything I needed was paid for. I just enjoyed the thrill of the race.

People say things like car accidents happen all the time. And it’s true. Accidents happen. Sometimes you are not even doing anything out of the ordinary but they happen anyway.

When you get in the car and race, chances of an accident increase exponentially. That should seem obvious, but honestly my 18 year old brain wouldn’t have cared anyway if someone had mentioned that to me.

I lived to race. And sooner rather than later, I got in an accident. An accident that landed me in the hospital, barely alive, and now living with my parents again.

If I could do it over again, I would still do it. You only live once and sometimes you just want to drive fast.

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Life Happens

Disclaimer: This month’s prompt and I did not get along. I tried to write two different stories with it, but nothing clicked for me. However, this was actually the better of the two. SIGH. Happy reading and writing! 

***********

The yellow lines on the highway sped by in a blur, and we flew through the night, and we felt free. But we weren’t, and we knew it. We were running away from something, and running away was never the path to freedom. I thought about telling John to turn back. I thought about suggesting we turn around and face the music, but then I saw his face. He looked carefree. It had been a long time since I’d seen him look that way. He was actually smiling. His brown hair was a little longer than normal, which was probably due to the stress of the last couple of months. Who had time for haircuts with everything we’d been through.

************

3 months earlier…

“John!” I yelled as he was heading out the door for work.

He turned to me with a question on his face. I knew he was running late. I handed him his lunch and he smiled gratefully. He didn’t actually say anything. Today was the big day. Today he would find out if he got the job. He’d been working hard for this his whole life. After 25 years on the job, he was up for a big promotion. I didn’t say anything else either; I knew he was remaining quiet to hide his anxiety.

I waited all day for him to call me, but he didn’t. I kept busy by cleaning everything I could think of. I scrubbed the bathrooms, mopped the kitchen, wiped down all surfaces, and vacuumed the whole house. When I did all that, I even washed, folded, and put away all the laundry. He still didn’t call. I decided to go for a walk. As I left the house, I found John.

He was sitting in the driveway with his car running. He had his head pressed forward on to his hands leaning on the steering wheel. I walked up to his car and tapped the window. When he looked up and saw me, I could tell he’d been crying.

After 28 years of marriage, I knew something terrible had happened. I’d only seen him cry once before this.

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July’s Prompt

So, this month I am actually trying and succeeding at getting things done when I mean to. Starting with getting my short story prompt posted early. Without further ado, here is July’s prompt:

“The yellow lines on the highway sped by in a blur, and we flew through the night, and we felt free. But we weren’t, and we knew it. We were running away from something, and running away was never the path to freedom. I thought about telling John to turn back. I thought about suggesting…”

I can’t wait to get into this one. I feel like it has the potential for some sort of paranormal or sci-fi element. If you haven’t read any of my previous stories of the month, my stories do have a tendency to have a sci-fi or fantasy bent to them. Last month’s story “Crime Scene” didn’t start that way, but it eventually got there.

In addition to my story of the month, I am participating in Camp NaNoWriMo’s month long writing challenge. I am using one of my previously posted stories as a jumping off point for a novel — “Unicorns Are Really Vampires.” If you are participating too, good luck with your project!

Happy writing and reading this month!

Crime Scene

Reporters are trained to develop a sixth sense, a nose for when a story smells fishy. And something about this one wasn’t right. First of all, Captain Evers was too eager to share. He was never willing to parlay with the press unless pressured. Additionally, the cops were giving us the “it was a gas explosion” bull-shit again. 

I walked back to the news van and pulled out my notebook. Scanning quickly through my most recent press release list from the PD, I counted five “gas explosions” in five months. One a month in fact. That’s what they call a pattern. 

I immediately called my brother. As I listened to this cell ring, I kept saying “pick up, pick up,” under my breath. On the sixth ring, it went to his voicemail. Typical. 

“This is Detective Sean Fox, I am unavailable….” I waited for the beep. 

“Sean, this is your sister. I want to talk to you. I feel like we haven’t had a nice visit in a long time.” I was trying to keep the eagerness out of my voice. “Meet me at Tom’s at 7 pm. Dinner and drinks on me.” I hung up and knew he would be there. I needed to know what the cops were hiding. Lying to my brother was a small price to pay for getting a story — a real story. Now, I just had to convince him to open up to me. That was easier said than done. 

My brother was a good cop, and sister or not, he knew better than to tell the press something that Captain Evers was purposely hiding. There were times when I was surprised that Sean had chosen to become a cop, but then again, being nosey was part of being a detective as well as a reporter. We liked to puzzle together the pieces and get our story — we just had different motives for wanting the story. My brother would probably say he was helping dole out justice. I am more honest with the world than that; I want the truth so I can sell it to make a name for myself. It’s not pretty, but it’s the cost of being a field reporter. 

***********

The small talk was winding down. We had talked about mom and dad, and Sean told me he had just ended yet another in a number of relationships with a woman who couldn’t handle being with a cop. 

“It’s the long hours. I think at first they don’t realize that it’s never going to let up. There is no slow season on crime,” Sean said as he finished his beer. 

I didn’t really care why women didn’t want to stay with him; that was his business. I was trying to figure out how to change the subject without being too obvious and deep in thought, I didn’t hear what he asked me. 

“Earth to Mary,” Sean was saying as he looked at me with one eyebrow raised. “Did I lose you there for a minute?

“Yes,” I said. “I was just zoning out a bit. You know, work stuff.” I looked at him expectantly. 

Sean folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. As he glared at me, he said, “Ah ha. Here’s the truth then. You didn’t want to have a nice dinner, you want a story.” 

I shrugged. “Come on, Sean. You know me.”

He cut me off before I could continue, “Yes, all work and no play. Even when it comes to having dinner with family.” He stood up and reached in his wallet dropping $20 on the table. “That should cover my part.” 

As he tried to leave, I blocked him. “Stop. Sean, don’t leave. It was wrong of me to lie to you, but…” 

He shoved past me and was out of my reach before I could do anything else. 

I shouted at him, “I know there have been five incidents in the last five months. I know Captain Evers is covering it up. And I know they’re not gas explosions.” 

He stopped. He came back over to me and whispered, “Don’t.” He looked tired and he rubbed his temple before he continued. “I don’t want you involved with that. Do yourself a favor and find a different story.” 

“Why? Is it something horrible?” My voice sounded eager and I checked my enthusiasm as Sean glared at me. “Serial killer? Arsonist? What?” Sean just kept shaking his head. 

He placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “Stay away from that story, Mary. You don’t want to be involved with that craziness.” 

Craziness? That left me confused. What would a cop of over a decade consider crazy? I was gearing up to press him some more when he turned and left. 

I grabbed my stuff and dumped some money on the table and caught up with him just as he was getting in his car. 

“Please, Sean. I need a good story.” 

He sighed. “This is not that story, Mary. Trust me.” 

“Seriously, what’s got you so nervous to talk about this one? Just give me a hint. A tiny, teeny hint. I’m your sister.” I was begging but didn’t care. Anything to get the story I desperately needed. 

I will never know if it was the pleading or just that he really thought he could change my mind. 

“Get in,” he said as he slid into his sedan.

************

He drove us to the crime scene that the Captain had talked about that day. As we walked up the steps and past the crime scene tape, my brother stopped and turned to me. 

crime scene

“Listen, Mary. I am showing you this, but after I do, I fully expect you to walk away from this. Nothing good can come from being mixed up with… Whatever this is.”

Walk away? Did he know me at all? Clearly not. And why was he being so vague? Did he not know what was really behind these doors? Or was he just trying to creep me out? He was my older brother after all, that wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibility. 

We entered the brownstone and walked into the hall of what appeared to be a nicely kept household. My brother went up the stairs and I followed close on his heels. He stopped as we came to the first doorway. He gestured for me to proceed into the room. 

“Go ahead. Take a look,” he said. “I will wait out here. I’ve already seen it.” 

I shrugged as I walked past him into the room. It turns out, my brother was right. Seeing it once was enough. The first thing that hit me was the smell. I instinctively covered my nose and mouth. I only took three steps into the room. I didn’t need to go in any further. I scanned the room trying to take it all in. 

Horrific doesn’t begin to cover what I was seeing. There were two twin beds in the room, one on either side of where I was standing. The beds were covered with delicate pink ruffled comforters. On top of each bed was what I assumed were the remains of the two girls who shared the room. Though to be honest, it was hard for me to say that what I was seeing was human, let alone female remains. I knew enough about anatomy to recognize what appeared to be two bodies completely removed of their skin. What was stranger was that I could also tell there were no bones. How the hell does someone remove skin and bones but leave everything else intact? Something else occurred to me as I turned to leave. Where was the blood? This had to be a secondary scene. You can’t remove skin and bones without leaving a mess. 

I shook my head at that thought. I went back in the hall and leaned on the railing breathing deeply for a minute. “What? I mean. How?” I couldn’t get words out. 

“Come on. Let’s go get some fresh air.” 

We left the crime scene and went to the closet coffee shop. We just sat there for several minutes before I began. 

“Sean, have all five ‘gas explosions’ been like that?” I gestured vaguely in the direction of the house we’d just left. I shut my eyes, which it turns out was a bad idea. I saw the remains posed on the beds when I did that. Posed? Why did I think of them as posed? Because I knew that was true. Someone had ​posed them like that. 

“Yes.” 

Apparently, I was going to have to pry the information out of him. “Sean. You have to give me more than that after what I just saw. Why are you guys covering this up? People should know about this?”

“Stop right there,” he said. “How would the public knowing about that help anyone? It would just create panic. Honestly, we don’t even really know what’s going on.” He sighed. “The Captain doesn’t want the press running with it mostly because it will make the whole force look like incompetent assholes.” 

“Why? Clearly you have the work of a serial killer. A very sick one.” I sat back in the booth and tried not to think of the smell or what I had just seen.

“We don’t know that actually. You saw it. We have remains. We have no easy way of identifying the remains from any of the crime scenes. I am sure you noticed the lack of skin.” Once he started, he told me everything he knew. “Did you also notice the lack of bones? There are no finger prints. No teeth. We have to use bone marrow DNA samples because there is also an alarming lack of blood. We haven’t even found primary crime scenes for any of them.” 

I shook my head. I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. How could they have nothing after 5 months? 

“Listen, Mary. You may have noticed the horrific nature of this story, but there are other reasons I want you to steer clear of this one.”  

I gestured for him to continue. 

“The Feds are taking over. They have a special unit working these cases. Did you notice we haven’t moved the bodies yet? They were discovered late last night and yet those two little girls or what’s left of them is still laying in their beds instead of on a morgue slab.”

I looked up at this. I hadn’t thought of that. Why leave them after processing? 

Sean continued, “The Feds are working this from a paranormal perspective. They think aliens or some shit are involved.” 

“I’m sorry. Do you really expect me to believe that the government – our government – thinks that e.t. and his cousins are killing little girls and leaving their insides behind?”

He sighed again. “Yes. That’s why you should stay away from this one. I don’t want you mixed up with the weirdos working this.”

I shook my head. Could I walk away from this? Reporters who were associated with paranormal stories didn’t usually end up with all the glory. They usually ended up working for the National Inquirer tracking down bigfoot and captioning blurry photos of the Loch Ness Monster and UFO sightings. 

 

 

 

 

June’s Prompt

Accomplish

ACKKKKKK!

That’s honestly how I feel right now. So, every month it seems like I get later and later with my first post for the month. However, this month has been the worst so far. I am not happy about it, and I will endeavor to do better. All I can say is that LIFE IS HAPPENING. Not all good, not all bad, but I am dealing with some things right now.

Despite that, I fully intend to post my story this month. BUT what is the prompt this month?!

Well, without further ado, here is this month’s long awaited story prompt:

Reporters are trained to develop  a sixth sense, a nose for when a story smells fishy. And something about this one wasn’t right. First of all, ….

I am excited about this month’s story, and I don’t want to give away what’s to come. But luckily, it’s already the 18th so not long to wait for this month’s short story!!

Happy writing and reading this month!!

Family Road Trip

“Bobby was sleeping on the snow wrapped in his cloak. The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter…”

“Stop it!” I yelled at Bobby again for what felt like the fifteenth time. We were in the back seat of our parent’s car traveling across country on another ‘fun family adventure.’

My little brother was pretending he was a ranger in Game of Thrones. I didn’t want to listen to him narrate his adventure in third person anymore. Not only did he constantly pretend to be a part of his favorite show, but he always talked in third person. He was driving me crazy. The only thing worse than mandatory family fun was being stuck in the car in 110 degree weather with my little brother.

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“As Bobby lay shivering in his cloak. He could feel eyes watching him.”

“Bobby!” I yelled again. “Mom! Please make him stop.”

“Bobby stop bothering your sister.” My mom said as she continued to read from the romance novel clutched in her hand.

Bobby crossed his arms and glared at me.

I just glared back. I decided to ignore him for now and tried to focus on whatever we were rushing past outside the car.

“Here’s our stop.” My dad said as he pulled the car next to a gas pump. “Everyone out. Pee and get drinks and snacks. Next stop wont’ be for awhile.”

I got out into the heat and was blinded by the sun reflecting off the tin roof of the nearby convenient store. I walked around the car and bumped into Bobby.

“Bobby awoke the next day…”

I just shook my head as I walked past him and into the store.

Story of the Month Club Continues…

It is May 17th!! And as usual, I am behind this month! The end of the school year is approaching and the weather has finally turned nice enough to go outside. I admit I am easily distracted when the sun is shining. I spend a lot less time inside by my laptop. Lately I can be found on the front porch reading instead. (I am also hiding from doing housework because if I’m not in the house, I don’t feel obligated to do it).

complete the story

Anyway, before I go much more into how I’ve been playing hooky from my chores, here is this month’s prompt:

“The whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter…”

I admit when I read this one, I have a hard time not thinking of Game of Thrones. We’ll see what I finally come up with by the end of this month.

Before we press forward, however, I want to briefly address my story from last month — Unicorns Are Really Vampires. I can’t wait to share what I’m adding to that story. I don’t know how much longer I intend to make it, but I am very excited about it. When I get it to what I consider it’s completion, I will post the final version.

Happy writing and reading this month and every day!!!