Month: June 2014

Hell Hath No Fury…

I sat quietly in the jury box, my hands in my lap, half-listening to the Judge. I glanced up and out over the courtroom, fighting the urge not to smile. Of all the times to be called up for Jury duty…

The people vs Andrew McMorran. He was accused of murdering his pregnant fiancée. They said he stabbed her repeatedly in the stomach and breasts, and pushed the knife up inside her over and over again. The details had made many physically sick. The nation had been in uproar, calling for retribution. Andrew was nearing 50, and Maria, she was a beautiful young wannabe, just 23 years of age, teetering on the edge of fame as a fresh faced young starlet of the screen.

He had protested his innocence, claimed he had been drugged and had woken with the murder weapon in his hand. He insisted he had found his ‘young-enough-to-be-his-daughter’ girlfriend brutally murdered in the kitchen. Unfortunately for his story, there was no sign of a break in and all the forensic evidence pointed towards him as a culprit.

Which is exactly how I had made it look.

Andrew clearly didn’t recognise me, I’d have been out of the Jury like lightning if he had. I’d changed my appearance a lot since before. Gone were the soft bouncy blonde curls he liked so much. My hair was pixie short and jet black. I’d gained a little weight too. He always had liked his girls painfully thin. It turned out a little meat on my bones made me look ten times better than the skinny rake I had been when I had once been his girl.

He’d promised me the world: Fame, fortune, parties and all the trappings of his lavish lifestyle. I was 18 and fell hopelessly in love with the then, 30 year old entrepreneur. When I found out I was pregnant I was so happy. I had visions of us getting married and having many more beautiful babies.

Andrew had other ideas. I watched his face turn dark as thunderclouds as I told him my happy news. I can remember him screaming in my face, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth.

            “I thought I told you to sort out contraception, you stupid bitch. You’ve ruined everything! I want some hot sexy beauty on my arm not a fat waddling pregnant chick. Get rid of it..”

He dumped me that night.

When I heard the news about Andrew proposing to Maria after finding out she was pregnant, something snapped inside me. He’d dragged me to the abortion clinic and made me kill my baby. What made Maria so damned special? I wasn’t going to let her have what I couldn’t and it was about time Andrew was made to pay.

I was brought out of my reverie by the Judges words.

            “…I sentence you to death, by lethal injection.”

I bowed my head further as the smile I had been fighting broke free across my face.

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Trousersnakes

I was sat in my favourite booth at a local cafe, when two ladies in their seventies were shown to the booth next to mine. The booth backs were nice and high, affording some privacy between tables and I didn’t really pay them much attention until they spluttered into the kind of giggles you usually hear from teenage girls, not pensioners.

Curious, I focussed my attention to make out their conversation.

“Oh! Oh! My tummy hurts Dot, stop making me laugh so hard. I always wondered what happened to poor old Bill all those years ago. Did he really get it caught in a zipper?”

More snorting and snickering ensued for a few minutes until they could contain themselves. I heard them order coffees between bouts of giggling.

“That’s not even my best story Maggie. Do you remember Roger? I brought him to Andrew’s party the year before the war?”

“I vaguely remember. Only vaguely mind you Dot. If I recall correctly, you weren’t there for very long, were you?

“We weren’t, no. He wanted to show me something back at his tent. He was there with the circus of course. What better way to horrify my stuffy old Father than running around with a circus boy? Anyway. He took me back to his tent to show me his snakes. He was a snake charmer and he had all these tanks with his ‘babies in them. After that, well, there was a little kissing and a little canoodling….”

“A little canoodling? Is that what you call it?” Maggie’s teasing laughter made me smile as I waited to hear what came next.

“Shush you! I’m getting to the good bit. Roger was a ladies man. It was obvious by the way he kissed and caressed and teased me. He was a pro. I didn’t even realise what he was doing until I felt my bra loosen. Well, being the good girl I was back then….. don’t laugh! Okay, okay, despite being far from a good girl back then, I sprang off the bed, holding my clothes against me and scolded him soundly for being so presumptuous. The cheeky boy just told me he had one last snake to show me and unzipped his trousers. Well, Maggie, I was never exactly chaste and I have seen some big ones in my time but Roger? His one was huge! I was rather disappointed I didn’t get to try him out for size.”

“Oh you bad girl Dotty! What happened?”

“He hadn’t put one of his snakes away properly and it got onto the bed. His, er, personal snake springing out of his trousers must have caught the poor thing by surprise because the real snake…well…it struck and bit him, right on the end of his you know what.”

They burst into schoolgirl giggles again which echoed through the restaurant as they made their way to the door. I sat with tears of laughter on my cheeks. Those old ladies made my day.

Camp NaNoWriMo

I have signed up for Camp NaNo.

!!!!

I am very excited about this fact. 

Months ago i started writing a short story. It was supposed to be 1500 words, but it got ridiculously huge. Apparently I ‘lack discipline’. So i have now started again with this story: i’m planning it out from the start, re-writing the bits I already have to actually make it good (using all my new found skills) and eventually I want to publish it. 

Watch this space!

*jumps around gleefully*

To Eat Or Not To Eat

If you are stood reading this letter, then I am sorry.

You will never leave.

Make yourself comfortable.

            The note fluttered slowly to the floor as Jack raced for the front door. His heart was hammering in his chest as his hands roamed the door, looking for a handle. There was none. The inside of the door was perfectly flat under his frantically scrabbling fingers. His searching eventually gave way to  crashing blows from his fists until his hands and knuckles were bruised and bloody.

“LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT YOU BASTARD.”

Jack slumped to the floor, his head tilted back, eyes closed. He breathed slowly, deliberately, fighting to control the trembling in his hands. He leant forward, pushing his head between his knees as his head swam and panic threatened to overwhelm him.

After a few minutes he stiffened, and then scrambled in his pockets for his phone to try and dial 999. Nothing happened. He tried again; still nothing. Cursing loudly, the rammed his phone back into his pocket and hauled himself to his feet. His hands were sore, the fingers swelling up and turning delightful shades of purple and black. He winced when his jeans rubbed against his knuckles.

Jack walked down the hall, picking up the pizza he’d delivered and taking out a slice. He munched on it defiantly. If he was going to be stuck here he sure as hell wasn’t going to go hungry. His only thought was:

“If only I had a beer to wash it down with.”

He poked his head around every door he found that wasn’t locked. He was surprised with what he found. The lounge had a brown leather reclining sofa that faced an enormous TV screen. The gym had every cardio and weight machine known to man and the bedroom had a stylish four poster bed that sat right in the middle of the room. Finally, Jack found the kitchen and, ignoring all else, headed straight for the fridge. He was chanting under his breath.

“Please have beer. Please have beer. Please have beer.”

The fridge was crammed full. To Jack’s satisfaction, there was beer in the door. He cracked the bottle open and the lid fell to the floor with a light jingle as it bounced away. He stooped to pick it up and noticed tiny writing scratched into the painted surface of a cupboard door.

To eat is to be eaten.

Jack pondered the significance of the message while munching on another slice of pizza. His chewing slowed as the turned to look back at the cupboard. His eyes widened as he glanced down at the pizza in his hand. Understanding dawned on him like an energy saver light bulb; slowly growing brighter. His captor was a cannibal and all the food was to fatten him up for slaughter. He considered the choices before him. Eat and survive long enough to be eaten, or starve.

Jack retched and ran for the bathroom.