Annual Sacrifice

Today's muse: What else would it be today?

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Annual Sacrifice

Black and orange candles, etched with protective symbols, flickered throughout the house. Crouched in the corner of the front hall, her arms wrapped around her knees, Sandra rocked back and forth, chanting incoherently.

Darkness approached and with it, she knew, would come the same creatures who terrorized her home before. Threatened with violence if she offered no sacrifice, she proffered what she had, but it was never enough. Each terrifying monster was replaced with another and another and another, until she had no more to give.

Sandra’s head snapped up as the front porch creaked. Footsteps came closer and closer, then a vicious pounding on the front door. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears to block out the demanding voices that shouted their threat.

“Trick or treat!”

Cause and Effect

Today's muse: Three Word Wednesday

Today's words (well, the words from October 6, at least):
hint, lust, sheen

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Cause and Effect

With the slightest hint, he could convey lust and desire; make her body tremble with a thin sheen of anticipation.

Just Messin' Around

Today's muse: I’m more than a little disturbed by the increasing incidents of bullying.

Be forewarned: This is a dark piece and not for everyone.


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Just Messin' Around


I killed Gerry Dodds.

Not with my own hands, o’ course, but I killed him. Gerry Dodds was this snot-nosed little shit who did nothin’ but whine and cry. Jesus, he pissed me off! He pissed everyone off.

Me and CeeCee, we was down by the ball diamond, hunched behind the bleachers, smokin’ a couple, when Dodds walks by. He’s got this humungous backpack and he keeps his head down cuz he knows if he makes eye contact, one of us is gonna slam him. So he keeps walkin’ by, like we’re not even there. It’s not like he don’t see us cuz CeeCee’s a pretty big guy and he kinda stands out, ya know?

“Hey!” CeeCee yells.

Gerry jumps about three fuckin’ feet in the air and I swear he shit himself. He looks over at us, then runs for it. I look at CeeCee. He looks at me. And we both shrug. Why the hell not, right? So we run after Dodds. It doesn’t take long before we catch up to him and shove him against the fence.

“Why the hell did you run?” CeeCee asks him.

Dodds is cryin’ and he’s got snot runnin’ all down his face. I roll my eyes and smack him. “Don’t be such a pussy,” I say.

I yank his backpack from him and dump it on the ground. There’s a bunch of books on math and shit and a few bills. I grab the bills and shove them in my pocket.

“Bring some more tomorrow.” I plant a solid right into his stomach and he doubles over and yacks on the sidewalk. CeeCee laughs like I just told the best god-dammed joke, and we walk away.

The whole school year went by pretty much like that. We smacked Dodds around a bit and he gave us money. No big deal really. I mean, we wasn’t gonna hurt him or nothin’, just mess around with him, ya know? Stupid fuck went and hanged himself anyway. I guess Dodds didn’t get that we was just messin’ around.

Mama Said

Today's muse:

This was originally the prologue to the book I'm writing. I decided, instead, to use it later in the book as a flashback. Or, perhaps, I won't use it all. The book is still evolving. It is edited for the blog and won't likely be recognizable in the book, but I thought I'd put it out there and get some feedback.


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Mama Said

“Run and hide,” Mama said, whenever he got this angry. So Erica crouched in the corner behind her mother’s tattered, second-hand dresses, pressed her hands against her tiny ears to silence the yelling. She knew he’d punish her if he found her.

It wasn’t unusual to hear them shout, but it was different this time. He was in a rage like she had never seen before. His deep voice, slurred with alcohol, shouted threats while Mama pleaded for him to leave.

Erica pressed her thin frame further into the corner, hugged her legs to her chest and rocked. She heard him throw things around the room and shout bad words. Something shattered—perhaps a glass—followed by a high scream. Then nothing but silence.

She held her breath and waited. There was quiet movement in the room—someone was moving things, straightening up. She knew it was Mama making a useless attempt at making their home seem normal. Erica crept from the corner to help.

The closet door squeaked as it eased open. He turned, his red-rimmed eyes wide in surprise. An enormous hulking man, he towered over her, a faded plaid shirt stretched over his belly. She wrinkled her nose at the stink of beer and stale cigarettes. A low growl vibrated in his throat as he lumbered over.

Erica’s eyes darted around the room in desperate search of Mama. At the edge of the bed, she caught the faded fabric of a familiar dress and followed the trail of flowered material until she saw Mama’s face.

A pool of blood stained the matted carpet around Mama’s hair. She met Erica’s stare and blinked, the effort clouding her eyes with pain. A crimson bubble formed at her mouth as she spoke. It was the last thing Erica remembered from that night.

“Run and hide,” Mama said.

Nightfall

Today's muse: Three Word Wednesday
Today's three words: gait, nudge, ripen

To add to the challenge, I went with a Twitter format and wrote a one sentence story.

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Nightfall

As night falls and the full moon ripens, his gait moves from stride to limp, nudging his manly form into canine

Dinosaur

Today's muse: The One-Minute Writer
Prompt: Write a brief bit of fiction using the prompt, "Dinosaur."

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Dinosaur

Heavy breathing brushes the back of my neck and the tiny hairs stand upright in a fight or flight stance. A low growl rumbles from the terrifying creature behind me, but I don’t turn around. I tremble in fear; make squeaking noises, too frightened to scream.

The growling becomes louder and I know he will pounce at any moment. I must attack before he does, so I dig deep for courage, whirl around and throw my arms around his torso.

Four-year-old Nathan squeals in delight and we roll on the kitchen floor while Nathan growls through his giggles and I plead for my life through mine.

Help

Today's muse: One Word
Today's word: Help

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Help

“Hepp,” he says as he taps his left foot on the floor, his arms spread out like a giant T for balance. I look down and see Matthew’s undone shoelace laying limp on his tiny sneaker.

“Hepp!” he says again, this time with much more authority, impatient to get on with whatever important two-year-old task he has abandoned. I bite my lip to hide my smile and bend down to tie up the rogue lace.

“We need to work on your pronunciation,” I say, as he places a hand on each side of my head to steady himself.

When I finish tying his shoe, he presses a firm kiss on my cheek and whispers “yub yoo” then dashes off, no longer worried about tripping.

Clean

Today's muse: Sunday Scribblings
Today's word: Clean

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Clean

Water, scalding hot, formed billowing clouds as it sluiced over her. Amanda stood with her hands against the tiled wall, her head bowed beneath the torrent, blonde hair drooped like string. Her skin, red and raw from scrubbing, bled in some places, but that was from him. The bruising was coming up, too, she noted.

She closed her eyes to avoid the angry, purple marks shaped, unmistakeably, like fingers; but when she did, all she could see was his face looming before her, feel the tearing and burning as he—

She dropped to her knees and retched.

Writescape Seminar - Active Voice Part 2

Today's muse: Write to Win seminar with Ruth E. Walker and Dorothea Helms

Prompt: As I mentioned previously, the exercise was writing using active voice.

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Fighting Dirty

Mickey fights real dirty, but like a girl. He pulls my hair and gouges with his vulture fingernails, leaving tiny, red crescent moons on my arms. The last time we went at it, he sank his teeth into my leg. It doesn’t really look like a bite scar cuz Mickey only had six teeth at the time. I tried telling on him, but Mom just rolled her eyes and wagged a finger in my face.

“It wouldn’t hurt,” she said, “if you just shared the chocolate chip cookies with your baby brother.”

Swan Song

Today's muse: Spook's Scribblings
Today's word: Song

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Swan Song

Angela’s voice, melodic and clear, drifted through the quiet room. A tradition since Joshua was born, she looked forward to their evening ritual when she sang to him until his eyes fluttered and he faded off to sleep. Dressed in his race car footies, his plump face serene, he seemed to sleep now. She wanted to hear him laugh, tiny bubbles bursting from his gummed mouth. Instead, she comforted herself by singing to him one more time, knowing he had drifted away hours ago. She wondered if he could hear her from the clouds above and hoped, if nothing else, he would remember her swan song.

Writescape Seminar - Active Voice Part 1

Today's muse: Write to Win seminar with Ruth E. Walker and Dorothea Helms

Prompt: Write using an active voice, beginning with "The rain poured down...".

This was a good exercise for me, as I tend to write in a passive voice. The other prompt was "Mickey fights real dirty", which I will use in a future piece. But for now ...

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Rain

The rain poured down in fat drops, plopped onto the front step in almighty splashes. She fumbled with the key, spouted colourful words punctuated with kicks to the door. Raven hair, curled with such care this morning, now hung like burnt spaghetti in her eyes.

She’d kill him for locking her out like this.

Writescape Seminar - Show Don't Tell

Today's muse: Write to Win seminar with Ruth E. Walker and Dorothea Helms

Prompt: Write about an inanimate object in the room; show, don't tell.

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Time

Round and bright, it shouts out its message to anyone who will turn to look, though no one does. Everyone is determined to ignore it. Long, black arms wave for attention, but remain immobile. Or so it seems.

At times, she thinks, they seem to spin round and round like a vortex, flashing numbers just to trip her concentration.