Fiction Friday: [Consumed]

It didn’t come softly like a whisper. It announced itself with a startling bang meant to disarm and chase away all signs of rationale and sensibility, replacing each with an unrelenting tremble at the very core of who I was.

I now understood that nightmares existed solely to soften the blow. A baby step to the big show so that when it was on my doorstep, it wouldn’t create such a bounding bloat of fear that my heart would forget its purpose.

Hands trembled. Tears puddled. Heart pounded in a soup of disbelief and terror. But it was the feet that betrayed me most of all. Planted firmly in place, concreted to their forever spot. The spot where I would cease to exist, where I would morph into the very thing that tore a streak of heat through my gut.

And there would be no mercy.

The tearing. The cutting. The ripping.

Each flick and punch delivered so solidly I gasped for air and closed my eyes. In the darkness, pain and panic unified and foretold of the true torture to come. I fought hard to find comfort in my memories for as long as I could. I thought of sunlight dancing on water, of snow covered park benches, and of the rich colors of fall. I thought of smiling faces, of warm hugs, and of soft kisses.

Knowing I would never recognize the value of love anymore was the cruelest blow of them all. The weight of sorrow from the realization was too much to bear and my memories flickered. As the darkness oozed into the last vestige of who I was, I was almost grateful.

Moxie Monday: Find Your Way

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Fiction Friday: [Resolution Gap]

Bonnie stared at the connect-the-dots smattering of chocolate crumbs on her plate.

Eat healthier, she thought. That resolution most definitely did not include having cake for breakfast. Maybe I should have been more specific.

She dropped her elbow on the table and cushioned her cheek in the palm of her hand with a sigh. It was only January 2nd and already each resolution seemed to be toppling like dominoes. First she sent out an all caps, declarative Happy New Year text to her family instead of calling.

Call more, text less: fail.

Bonnie thought about her pristine running shoes and about how yesterday was supposed to be the first day of her new life as a gym rat. Then she thought about how instead of running on a treadmill or lifting weights, she sat on the couch and watched an entire season of “Orphan Black”.

Work out more. Who was she kidding? Work out: fail.

God, she thought. Resolutions are stupid. Why do we even put ourselves through this? Why do we set ourselves up for failure?

Stay positive: fail.

Bonnie could feel herself spiraling and knew that day two of a new year was probably not the best time to get stuck in the mire of negativity and guilt. The patches of heat sprouting along her neck made her worry that she would have no choice.

She watched—disconnected—as she mashed the chocolate crumbs with her thumb. Turning her hand over, she studied the deep brown abstract shape now adhered to her skin. A wave of ease trickled its way through her body. She was being ridiculous. The year had only just begun and she had plenty of time to fulfill the promises she made to herself.

All is not lost she thought, pressing the sweet, buttery goodness on her thumb against her tongue. But, I’ll start tomorrow

Happy New Year: 2015

Moxie Monday: Do It Forever

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Fiction Friday: [The Red Reign]

[This week's Fiction Friday was a prompt from Scene Stealers.  Scene Stealers is a fun writing prompt exercise from Write to Done. They provide the first two sentences (or in this case sentence and a half) to be used as written, a specific writing exercise, and it can't be longer than 350 words. As you will see, my piece was too long to submit this time around. Click the link above if you want to give it a try. In the meantime...enjoy!]

She looked down on the village that had been her home until she was eighteen years old. Anna was so sure she’d never return, but he had other plans. 

It was now over a year since she’d ripped herself from his clutches, but details of the arduous journey clung to her memory like moss on a stone. The icy whip of the wind against her cheeks. Her calloused hands rubbing against the raw leather of her gloves. She doubted her decision many times along the way and worried she would become a perfectly preserved statue of ice hidden for centuries under a snow drift.  

But she eventually made it to America and then found herself plodding east. It wasn’t until Anna reached New York City that she found her new home. A place where she wasn’t gawked at because of her height or her ears. She settled into a data entry job that felt glamorous compared to the life she had escaped. During the holidays she picked up additional work and was doing quite well for herself. She had friends and fun and not long after escaping her horrific past, she found love. 

After a long day at work, coming home to Pete’s beaming smile and waiting arms was the highlight of her day. But yesterday, a turn of the key and crack of the door revealed only street lamps illuminating the apartment.  

Clicking on the lights, her eyes drew immediately to the blood red envelope propped up against the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. The sound of her purse and keys hitting the floor muffled under the whoosh of blood rushing to her ears. Every beat of her heart throbbed in her fingertips as she reached for it with quivering hands. The note was handwritten and full of sharp angles. Every line of it turned Anna’s fear into anger.

 Dear Anna,
What a bad girl you have been. Do you not recall the extent of my powers? There is no place on earth where you can hide from me, my dear. And now you have given me no choice but to teach you a lesson. Unfortunately for your Pete, it will be a lesson that he must endure also. I will put him to work in your place until your return. Hurry along dear because, as you know, mere humans do not possess the stamina and fortitude necessary to handle the workload at this time of the year. If you truly love this man, I have no doubt that I shall see you soon.
Love,
K.K.
 

The journey back was much quicker and this time she had no doubt she would make it. For Pete’s sake, she had to. As she looked down onto Santa’s Village, her pointed ears twitched at the sounds that had fueled her nightmares. The sound of strained backs and fingers rubbed raw. Of crying babies left unattended while their mothers’ worked an ungodly amount of hours on the assembly lines under watchful eyes. 

Anna drew strength from their pain and the world she had seen outside of this place. A world that she was determined to gift to her fellow elves. It was time that they stopped making everyone else’s dream come true and realized they could make their own.  

It was time to bring the big man down. 

Moxie Monday: Do Not Stop

Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!

Fiction Friday: [Christmas Waffles]

Sunlight streamed through the window and Charlotte grunted, rolled onto her side, and snuggled even deeper into the down comforter. The thought of crawling out of the cocooned goodness didn’t appeal to her. Not even a little bit. But despite her best efforts, her mind had other plans and slowly climbed awake mountain until she remembered what today was.

Her eyes shot open and she was wide awake. Despite friends and family warning not to get her hopes up, Charlotte had no doubt that today was the day. The day when she would go from “girlfriend” to “fiancée”.

The sound of clanging pots and pans drew her attention down the hall and she flung off the comforter and jumped out of bed. She plodded down the hall and found Todd in the kitchen. The counter was covered with cracked egg shells, powdery piles, a package of bacon, and whatever was in the bowl he was attacking with a whisk. Standing out from all of it was a square box draped in beautiful paper that shimmered with glittered snowflakes and was secured with a bow tied so perfectly she knew he hadn’t wrapped it.

Doubt needled its way in when she noticed the size of the box. It was large enough to hold dozens of engagement rings. But knowing that Todd considered himself clever, she shed the disappointment, rebounding with a smile.

“Morning,” she said, trying to tamp down the excitement in her voice.

“Morning, Char.”

He abandoned the bowl and wrapped her up in a hug before spinning her around. His level of excitement was duly noted and she added it to her “Oh my God, I’m getting engaged” list of evidence.

“What are you making?” she managed to ask over the pounding pulse of her heartbeat.

“First,” he said, grabbing the present Charlotte had never quite let leave her sight. “Merry Christmas.”

She took a deep breath, then she took him in wanting to remember every moment. Todd’s eyes sparkled, the perfect accessories to his lopsided smile. With misty eyes and lips turned up fully end to end, Charlotte reached her shaky hands toward her glittery future.

The shock made her smile falter a bit. There was a weight to the box that allowed the doubt to creep in again. Studying Todd’s face didn’t help. His crooked smile and look of anticipation hadn’t changed.

With only one way to find out, she was indelicate as she ripped the paper away from the box. Her smile fell flat, but her eyes remained misty. She paused a moment before glancing up at Todd’s now irritatingly excited face.

“Ta-dah! It’s the waffle iron you wanted,” he said, oblivious to the energy shift darkening the moment. “And you think I never pay attention. Pop it out of the box, I already made the batter.”

Todd cleared the counter and turned to discover Charlotte hadn’t moved. Not only that, but her lips had pulled impossibly thin, arching toward the floor. Her eyes twitched at the corners as they narrowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Her voice projected in a lower register than normal. Even he had to know this couldn’t be good. “We’ve been together for five years. We’ve lived together for three. You can’t give me a waffle maker and then ask me what’s wrong.”

Anger and hurt seeped from every pore and grew stronger with each memory of past Christmas’, birthdays, and Valentine’s Day’s. She would have even happily accepted an Arbor Day proposal. But, no. Apparently it was too much to ask that they be on the same page.

“If you don’t know what’s wrong, then…well, that’s just the root of the problem isn’t it?”

The glare she shot his way was meant to cut through him. But no matter how hurt she was, when his crooked smile faded, her eyebrows softened a bit. Her gaze fell to the floor and she was flooded with the heat of embarrassment as the truest memories of what their relationship was reflected back at her.

How no one could ease her sadness or anger like Todd could. How he answered every time she called. How he asked about her day with actual interest. How every time he looked at her, she had zero doubt that she was loved.

She wasn’t sure when she had become this person, but she regretted allowing it to happen. Especially when she recalled the moment so many months ago when she had fleetingly pointed out the waffle maker in Macy’s. The fact that he remembered was a more accurate measure of the man Todd really was.

Charlotte knew she needed to apologize. But what she didn’t know was that when she looked up, the man she loved would be smiling again. A smile that grew more mischievous every time he squeezed the box in the palm of his batter splattered hand.