I felt the same confusion the young officer did when he asked, “Assault, sir?” Frank grinned and held up his hand, showing bloody knuckles where he punched Ron, “Yes, officer Tigs, assault. His face assaulted my hand.” The young officer, Tigs, just nodded and looked back at his desk before he started writing. Ron spat blood onto the floor and seemed calmer when he said, “Ha! Good hit, Frank. Always easy when someone can’t defend themselves, but you WOULD know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Frank quickly turned and went back for more, giving Ron a couple more punches to the face. I wanted to stop him. His beating on the guy seemed a little excessive and unprofessional. “Put him in solitary confinement for a week, and add threat and destruction of property to the charges. Maybe he’ll learn to keep his mouth shut then,” Frank said once he was done pummeling the knocked-out Ron. I looked at Buck's face, and there was amusement at Frank's actions. This wasn’t a place for law enfo
When I got to my driveway finally, I noticed two large boxes and a package of blinds thrown next to the mailbox. I figured they’d leave it there. I hated getting things by post. The shit either came up missing or was delivered, ripped, smashed, and plain old snooped through. Seriously, how can we not notice a hole torn in the corner or a flap of plastic ripped off? When I pulled up to the house, having taken my time driving along the field, I decided to fix the door to the shed. It was hanging loose again. Grabbing everything from the truck and trying to balance it with one hand, I unlocked the front door and went in. Setting the boxes down, I looked around, and nothing seemed out of order, so I went back outside. The sun, fighting through incoming clouds, was still a ways away from setting, so it gave me plenty of time. With the small toolbox from the back of the truck, I walked toward the shed. The door had shut again, but as I got closer, it moved. I watched it for a moment
The little furball and I headed back to the house, and heavy rain started hitting the windshield. I was carefully driving but prayed the little thing wouldn’t make the ride difficult by suddenly jumping on the dash or climbing my face. Luckily, that didn’t happen, but the rain was coming down harder when I parked out front of the house. Making a plan, I stuffed the kitten in my hoodie the best I could and grabbed the bags before darting out the door and up to the house. After fidgeting with the keys, I was able to get in. I still managed to get soaked a bit, and the kitten wasn’t too happy either. “I’ll get your poop box set up first and then change,” I said out loud to fill the silence in the house. I put it in the spare room until I could move the desk in there. The kitten seemed grateful to relieve itself, and I left it alone to get out of my wet clothes. I had just pulled my shirt on after drying my hair when I heard scratching noises and loud banging outside. The kitten w
With a brick in hand and the full intention of breaking the damned window, I stood there frozen and unable to rationalize what I had just experienced. Was there really some bastard that had broke into my home and mocked me, or was it just another delusional dream, and I was about to wake up soaked like I had pissed myself yet again? The innocent black kitten continued to bat around a small paper ball, oblivious to my staring inside. I dropped the brick. The sound of it hitting wet wood on the deck was loud enough to echo, and the sound reached inside, making the kitten bounce on all fours before he ran to hide under my recliner. Turning, I ran down the steps to the front yard, almost sliding on my ass, drenched and feeling the coldness of wet clothes. But, of course, no one was there when I spun in circles looking around me. “WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT?” I had yelled loud enough that my voice cracked, but I knew if an intruder was there or not, no one would really answer
Unfortunately, I got very sick in early 2023, and in October of 2023, I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma type cancer. I have finished chemo, and it is officially in remission (yay! thank the Lord). I will be updating soon, hopefully, as my energy returns. I want to finish my stories and continue others soooo badly, it is driving me crazy! I am soo sorry for the lack of updating, and keeping in touch. I hope everyone is well and I look forward to writing for you again soon. Please be patient and thank you for waiting on me, I promise to hurry!
“Chrissy, look at daddy baby, look at me. Just hold on, stay with me.” I watched her cry over the sound of wind beating at us with the rain, she yelled for her mommy, and I felt helpless, “Mommy is tired, don’t look back, just look, look at daddy. Just hold on sweetheart, help is coming. Chrissy, Chrissy! Don’t close your eyes! Look at me! Chrissy!” When her eyes wouldn’t open, I felt my scream of anguish and desperation, watching her and her mother not move, covered in blood. I wanted to die with them. I begged for death to take me, too, he had ripped away my purpose for living, but somehow, I would always wake up before he could. I sat up, wiping the cold, clammy sweat from my forehead. Once again, the same dream invaded my mind. It had been months since the last one. The alarm on my phone went off, and I checked the time. It was still early, only 6:45 am. Setting it back on the nightstand of the hotel room, I went to the bathroom. Using the cold water to wash away the remna
I hung up the phone. I knew Eric didn’t realize Sunnyfield was more on the west side of the state, with nothing but farmland and no oceanfront access. So, I didn’t tell him and figured he could find out on his own. I needed coffee badly. My hands were almost shaking from withdrawal, like an alcoholic’s. But I’m not a drinker and never have been. Sure, I could appreciate a cold one on a hot day, but coffee was my drug of choice. The cheap little coffee maker had baggies of condiments and coffee. So, I decided to try using that finally. Damn, decaf in one and just the leftover straw and unused sugar in the other. “Shitty hotel,” I complained out loud, but no one was listening. The thump almost spooked me from the floor above me. There was screaming and yelling that I heard coming from somewhere yesterday after I checked in, but the rooms around me were quiet most of the night. Another loud thump, and some douchebag started yelling this time. I decided it was necessary to head out an
I opened it so she could go in first. As she passed me slowly, the smell reminded me of my late aunt’s home, cigarettes, and baby powder. The putrid smell made me gag inwards. While I looked around, she hobbled around the other side of the long linoleum-covered desk. It was a small lobby with only two plastic Adirondack chairs serving as seating. They sat next to a small brochure and advertisement holder. However, I did notice a makeshift crate table holding a coffee maker and small cups. It’s the small things, like coffee, that I struggle with to make me happy anymore. “One bed or two?” “I, uh, actually have a reservation. It should be under Samuel Lake.” Looking towards me with one eye, she made a deep sound in her throat. I wasn’t sure if she was about to cough or she scoffed at the word reservation, being the MOTEL was a dive. She flipped through a ringed binder and looked down her nose at what was written. Not saying a word, she pulled open a drawer next to her and took o