Break Up

Hope you like this one :) Going away for the next three days, so I might not update the blog, but I will certainly be writing every day and will post when I get back!


Richard walked frustratedly back and forth, awaiting on the arrival of Jen. He didn't want to have to do this, but he didn't have any other choice. He loved that woman so much, and when you loved someone, you had to let them go. He couldn't allow her in his life anymore. It was for her own good. She would understand; one day.

He heard the front door open and close, and he held his breath, waiting.

"Good afternoon, Richie."

A soft pair of hands wrapped around his chest, and he pulled away quickly to face her.

"What's wrong?" she asked quickly, taking his hand instead.

"We're through."

"I'm sorry?"

"We're through," Richard repeated angrily, pulling away from her hold, "I don't want to be with you anymore."

He watched the woman stare disbelievingly at him, eyes welling up with tears.

"I'm sorry, Jen," Richard insisted, because this his was, "We can't be together."

"Why?" she whispered, trying to wipe away the tears streaming down her face.

"Listen," Richard sighed, grabbing her shoulders and looking into those beautiful, shining eyes, "There are some bad people in this world. And I am one of those people and I don't want you to have anything to do with it."

"That's a lie," she whispered, "You are not a bad man, Richard."

He disagreed, "Yeah, I am."

"Ever since you met this Chad guy-"

"Yeah, he's bad too, okay? We're both bad. And you don't need us in your life."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you are going to take your things, and you are going to leave this place, and me, and Chad, and never return."

"No," she whimpered, "NO!"

Richard grabbed the box he'd packed of her things and carried it to her car, the woman protesting at his heels.

"We're perfect together, Richard!"

"You deserve better," Richard mumbled, "Trust me."

He turned one last time to her.

"Richard..." she whispered.

"It's for your own good. One day you'll thank me."

And with that he turned and walked back to the house, shutting the door behind him.

[347 words]

Fair Share

Hmm... I hope it's still showing Russell's loyalty to Cameron. Yet at the same time, giving him an edge, showing his annoyance at being the second hand man...




"Okay, I'm stumped. You go into the city to to buy a gun, you come back with a kid. What's going on, Cameron?" Russell questioned, folding his arms across his chest.


"For a starters, it wasn't the city. It was the outskirts of the city. Second thing? He's not a kid. He's almost eighteen for pete's sake! If it was me, that'd be an insult."


"Come on Cameron, you wouldn't even take the eight year old when you had the chance! What makes this guy any different? You get the ransom money? At least the first one wouldn't have understood. This guy's old enough to fight for himself! You won't be able to handle him."


"I think I know who I can handle. I handled Damien 'til he was sixteen."


"Yeah, he was the son you didn't tell me about until two weeks ago."


"Relax mate, I've got it covered."


"I had it covered..." Russell muttered, "'til you went and got him."


"Would you just trust me? He won't be any trouble for you. You won't need to worry about him. He's my soul responsibility."


"Yeah, you got that right."


"You should be grateful, Russell." Cameron smiled, taking a gun out of his jacket, "You've earnt your fair share."


Cameron slapped the gun into Russel's hands.


"Yeah, well you better hope I get that money soon. Because you've seemed to be obsessed with this Damien guy ever since you ran into him."


"Do you remember what I told you, Russell? When this first started all those years ago?"


"You told me a lot of things."


"I told you the day would come, where I wouldn't be able to resist murder. I would have to kill the guy that ruined me, before I met you. That was Damien. And that day is close."


"And how is this new guy going to help?"


"You'll see, my friend. All in good time. Are we cool?"


"Yeah," Russel sighed, shoving the gun into his pockets, "We're cool."

[333 words]

Poppit

Damien makes his decision to leave...


Damien huried along the footpath, taking a nervous glance back behind him every few seconds. It was the first day back at school, but he knew he would not arrive there today, and probably never again. He hurried faster, towards the animal shelter where he'd worked the last few weeks. If the owners accepted, which he had a feeling they would, he would not return home, either. This almost excited him. To get away from that place forever would be an utter miracle. No doubt there'd be a search party, but he wouldn't be found, if he could help it. He would disappear from that house forever.

He almost ran to the front block when it was within sight. , closing the door behind him once he was safely inside and leaning heavily against it. Yes, he definitely didn't want to return home today. And he knew a certain someone who would not be happy with him; but when had they ever been happy with him? He was never good enough. He was going to change that, someday.

He looked around the room. It was quiet. There were no visitors, so that was a bonus. Then he noticed the manager step through the back door.

"Damien, your shift is not 'til this afternoon."

"I know," Damien admitted, slinging himself forwards, "Can I start earlier?"

"Haven't you got school, kid?"

"No," Damien lied. The manager looked up at him disbelievingly.

"Yes," Damien sighed, "but I'm not going. And no one's going to make me. I quit."

The manager studied him for a moment, before turning back to the desk and grabbing a clipboard, "Suit yourself. You can start cleaning the cat cages."

Damien nodded in acceptance, before hurrying off, dumping his school bag and coat off in the back room as he sprinted to the cat house. The meows met his ears as he entered, skipping over to his favourite; an old one that had been found locked in a room for several days without fresh food or water. He smiled as he took her out of the cage and gave her a cuddle, before asking her,

"What am I going to do, Poppit? How am I meant to ask that guy for board?"

He sighed. He barely got enough money from this shabby old place as it was. But he'd need it one day. Right now, he needed a place to stay. And this was his only option.

[407 words]

Night Brainstorming

There's got to be an easier way to form the themes to write about each day... this one's just lame.

I lay awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Sometimes I really hated being a writer. When you write, there are no ideas present. When you try to sleep, the ideas won't stop. And no matter how tired you are or may be, you lie wide awake, watching a silent movie play in your head, because the silence and the darkness is enough to make your imagination run wild. It is the best time to brainstorm, and you do not want to disrupt that process. You want it to last as long as possible. The only bad thing about that is when you get the not so great plot ideas. The ones that make no sense. The ones that are too far fetched - too cruel or too unlifelike, too stupid or too pointless - that stay with you the longest, repeating itself to you night after night, despite how many times you tell your unconscious that it is just not acceptable to write.

[166 words]

Someone New

I couldn't resist a back story to Innocence, involving a glimpse at characters you'll see in the sequel, Obligation.

The boy - because that's all he was, barely eighteen - fiddled the key in the lock. You always needed to jiggle it a bit. It was a bad design, really. As he heard the lock click, he saw a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. He closed his eyes in frustration as he turned around.

"I'm just doing what you—"

He stopped midsentence when he opened his eyes to see a little girl standing before him. Nine, maybe ten.

"Hi," she smiled brightly.

'Um, hi..." the teen hesitated, closing the door again behind him, "What are you doing here?"

The girl shrugged, "I'm here with my Mum."

"Oh, that's funny," the teen frowned, "Cameron didn't mention anything about visitors."

"What's you're name?" the girl asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Uhh," it was the boy's turn to shrug, "Terrier."

He led the way back down the hall, the young girl at his feet, "I've never heard anyone called that before. Isn't it the name of a dog?"

"Yeah, whatever." the teen looked around. The kitchen was empty and he couldn't hear anyone else in the house. The others must be outside.

"You haven't asked my name."

The boy turned around slowly to look at her. She was kind of cute, her long brown hair fell just past her shoulders, she wore pretty little jeans with flowers up one leg, and a yellow frilled top. He smiled down at her. It had been a long time since he smiled. There was still innocence in this world.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

"Chloe," the girl announced.

"That is a very nice name," Terrier admitted.

"My mum's name is Sandra," she informed him happily, "she said she had to see Uncle Cameron about something important."

"Uncle Cameron?" Terrier questioned.

"Well he's not really my uncle. We just call him that. He's been a family friend for years."

"Family friend..." Terrier muttered, trying to hide his disgust. At that moment the sliding door opened, and in stepped Cameron and another woman, whom he guessed was the girl's mother, Sandra. They looked kind of alike, if you studied them for more than a quick glance. She addressed him.

"Ah Terrier, I've heard a lot about you. I see you've meant Chloe."

The boy didn't respond, instead turning to look at Cameron who stood glaring at him from behind her.

"Nice necklace," she commented as an afterthought, "come on Chloe. It's time to go."

Terrier lifted a hand to feel for the chain around his neck. It was a dog collar he was made to wear, rather uncomfortable at times. He hated it. To recieve such a sarcastic compliment only made him hate it more.

"I'll talk to you later, Terrier." the girl grinned with a wave, before skipping to the door. Her mother followed, and Terrier stood waiting by the bench for Cameron to return after waving them off.

"Who are they?" he asked.

"That is none of your business."

"Who are they?" he repeated again.

"They are here to help you!" Cameron growled, "Because you and I both know that you are not strong enough for the job alone."

The teenager held his breath, glaring the man in the face, until he turned away, his little happiness for the day gone. He retraced his steps back up the hall to the door. This time he was accompanied inside.

[573 words]

Terror

This one's kind of weird and creepy. Sorry bout that. It was almost entirely based on a dream I had the other night, cept the dialogue. Although the last line at the end certainly was. In the dream, I was trying to say something that started with 'var' or 'ver', but I don't know what it was. Funnily enough, I didn't seem to be scared in the dream, nor when I woke up. So it wasn't the kind of nightmare you'd expect...

We all sat, holding onto our lives as the train stood motionless on the tracks. This was a full carriage, full of innocents, full of hostages, and just two men stood walking backwards and forwards. I sank lower in my seat, fidgeting with the ties upon my hands. Whoever these men were, they had come prepared. There was not one of us passengers left that didn't have our wrists tied by rope or cuffs. None of us dared to breathe a word as they guarded their posts. We could see the police outside, no doubt trying to devise plans to get us out of there alive. My hair fell across my face, as I went by unnoticed, as did many of us quiet ones. I did however, have a knack for detail, and the man sitting a few rows in front passing along a screw behind him did not go unnoticed by me. If they were all cutting their restriants free, they had to be careful. If our captors caught sight of it . . .

Too late. The one with the rifle swung around his chest turned just as a woman up front was accepting the passing screw. He hit her across the face, and she screamed, tears streaming down her face. He bent slightly to pick up the fallen screw. He held it up to us all, spinning it swiftly in his fingers.

"Whose bright idea was this?"

I stared around the carriage, full of men and woman, middle aged, elderly, even a young mum. We all held our breaths.

"Don't make me repeat the question."

A young kid at the very front of the carriage stood, his wrists free of his cuffs.

"You?"

"Aye."

The guy lifted his rifle. I saw a pair of hands grab it and pull it upwards and before I knew it, everyone around me was scrambling for the doors. Some, like me, still tied up. Others from the front free of movement. I was shoved forwards amongst the hostages bursting for the door and I saw the second captor pull out a knife and strike the nearest person within reach, just when we heard the first gunshot go off. Everyone ducked, beginning to edge back to their seats. I stood swaying in the aisle. I ambled forward to the nearest handle grip, but my fingers slipped and I fell to the floor, my face beside someone's shoe as I realised that I was the one who'd been shot. The bullet stung my back as I fought to keep consciousness.

"Now you understand what happens."

I felt him slam his foot onto my back, boot across my shoulder blades. Stay alive, I thought, stay alive. I heard the train doors open and felt a welcome fresh breeze play with my hair as my breathing slowed, my eyes drooped. I became aware that I couldn't move my body, and yet, I was alive and hearing.

"Your first body!" I heard a voice somewhere above me yell, and I was dragged forwards. I felt the floor beneath me disappear as I fell, about a metre, to the ground. The doors slammed shut again. The police stood hestiant, watching my unmoving body, before someone came forwards to check for my breathing.

"She's dead." the person announced grimly. No, no I wasn't. I could still feel the pain. I tried to open my eyes, but it just wouldn't work. So I tried to use my voice instead.

"Var . . . ver . . . ver . . ."

I knew then I was going to be okay. I just hoped the rest of the hostages would be, too.

[612 words]

Peaceful Bliss

Happy New Year, everybody! Welcome to 2010, my blog, and my first story of the year...


The girl's bare feet stepped down onto the porch as she snuck out behind the house. She pulled her blanket close around her, making the most of its warmth. Her long blonde hair fell in a canopy around her face as she raced through the long grass and out to the gazebo. Panting slightly in the night air, she let out a laugh as she wrapped one arm around the white post, and spun herself round to face the house. It looked beautiful, almost ancient in the dark, standing there still amongst the acreage. The surrounding trees cast shadows upon its roof, and nearby she could hear the brook trickling water over the stones.

She used to be afraid of the dark. The stillness had scared her, as had the slightest noise. That was until someone close to her heart had told her otherwise. The darkness was nothing but the unturned page of a book. The quiet, the stillness, wasn't meant to be scary or overwhelming. It was peaceful. Truly peaceful. Nothing could compare to such a thing. The silence let you breathe in the atmosphere, soak it in, absorb in your own thoughts without the disturbance of others. That's what she loved about the night.

She turned, and started circling around the gazebo her grandfather had made, whispering lyrics into the night, "Dore kurai mada kono michi wa tsuzuku darou ka? Hateshinaku hiroi sekai, ima sugu ni tsukamitore. (Just how long will I continue to follow this path? An endlessly wide world, right this minute I'll take hold of it.)"

She sighed, taking one last glimpse at the stars. They seemed to smile down at her. If only she could be with that person now. And she ran back through the grass; home.

[272 words]