Leaving Him

I had every intention of going back when I got into my car.
I forced myself to smile at my husband as he stared at me from the doorway. Giving him a reassuring wave. I was only going to be gone for a couple of days. I would be back soon enough.
It became more difficult to keep the smile as his frown deepened, his dark eyes burning into mine, and I couldn't but feel like I had already betrayed him. He hadn't wanted me to go on this trip. Not alone. Leaving him was the last option, but we had to do it.
He was concerned about me driving by myself, and I was concerned too. I'd never made a long drive by myself before. But his work wouldn't allow him to take the time off to travel with me.
But somebody needed to go finish filling out the paperwork to finally sell off our old townhouse. And since he couldn't leave, and the new owners wanted to move in ASAP....it was left to me.
I clenched the steering wheel. I would mess this up, he believed I would. That we wouldn't get the money we needed to from the house. My shoulders hunched. My husband wouldn't be happy when I got home. He never seemed to be happy anymore, no matter what I did. I couldn't make him happy like I used to.
Please....please....let me be able to do this one thing right. I would go over the paperwork eight times, reading every single word making sure it was all to standard and fine.
This would be fine.
I could do this.

I drove off into the morning sun, my breathing coming unsteadily as I got further and further away from my husband. I would be back. I would be back. Triumphant. With every 'i' dotted and 't' crossed, and he would smile at me like he used to. Hold me close, tenderly kiss me and tell me how amazing I was. He would be happy, when I returned.


I wouldn't return.

*****

The flashing blue and red lights were my first indication that someone had finally stopped to help me.
They reflected in the snow, nearly blinding me as I looked up from my huddled position beside the flat tire I'd tried fruitlessly to remove from my little Honda.
I probably looked like a deranged lunatic, I knew my mascara had run by the black streaks on my hands.
"Ma'am" The officer called as he got out of his car. "Are you alright?"
My throat was so clogged from sobbing that I couldn't do more than shake my head.
I was hopeless. Fresh tears flowed from my aching eyes. I'd known that I shouldn't have taken this journey by myself. Would my husband have gotten a flat tire? No, he wouldn't have. I must have driven over a nail, a piece of glass, a sharp rock. And gotten myself into this mess. My husband would have avoided any thing that would pierce the tire. If he'd gotten a flat tire he would have had it fixed in no time at all.
(What if the husband purposely made the tire go flat in the first place?)
I couldn't even call for help! My phone had died on the journey because I'd been a fool and not realized it would be searching for a cell signal the entire time I navigated my way through the mountains. My first venture out by myself since before I got married, and I was failing miserably at it.

-Inspiration from a blog post.

Found, Not Lost

"Stop."
My quiet words cut through the chatter of my friends, as our driver braked to a stop.
I got out of the car.
I had no idea where we were.
It was some little town beyond the outskirts of the little towns outside the huge cities I'd grown up in.
"Mitch, what's up?" I raised my hand to silence Johnny.
"I don't know." I looked around, inhaling the scent of sunflowers and mown grass. I couldn't remember ever coming through this town. Yet, it felt so familiar.
"Mitch, we're going to be late."
"Our gig isn't til tomorrow Johnny, how can we be late?" I said, stepping further away from the car. How could this place be so familiar? I looked back over my shoulder. "Come on, I could use some fresh air, stretch out my legs." I was taller than all of them, more cramped too in our car. Fancy as it was, it still sucked leg room wise.
I didn't wait for a response as I headed towards the center of town. This was an itch I needed to satisfy. Badly. It felt like home. How could this place feel like home? I hated small towns. The cities were my home, I'd always felt more comfortable in the hustle and bustle. Small towns with their lack of...well all that, had seemed slow and dull. So why? Why did this place not bug me like all the other places did? It had all the same feel as the other slow and dull towns. Yet, it didn't.
"You couldn't have picked a more boring place to stop." Johnny complained, bumping into my side. "Trees, old houses, horses? You want to be a cowboy suddenly or something?"
"Come on Johnny, it's nothing, I just want to stretch my legs. Here is a bit better than an oil slicked gas station."
He raised an eyebrow. "Mmmhmmm."
"What?"
"Doesn't look like its nothing." He smirked. "You're looking around like you're looking for something."
I exhaled, shaking my head with a chuckle. "Alright," I couldn't really hide anything from Johnny. We'd been friends for years. "This place....it feels familiar."
"Familiar how?" Johnny asked gesturing around. "It's a farming town. We pass through hundreds of these places on our tours."
"I know, which makes this weird. I know this place."
"We've never been here before!"
"I know that too! Which is why I want to look around."
Johnny glanced at his watch. "Well...let's not take too long alright? No longer than an hour, Mitch. I want to be in a comfy hotel bed before midnight tonight."

*****

"Johnny." I hissed, gesturing him over.
"What?" He asked. "You finally ready to go?"
"No, look." I pointed to an old Missing Child poster. "Does that?"
"It looks like you." Johnny said, pulling the poster from the wall. "Your stupid gap toothed grin was unforgettable, until you got braces." He held the picture up next to my head, looking between the two of us. "Same eyes, same stupid curl to your hair behind your ears, same old smile before those braces."
"Only, I wasn't, I'm not missing."
Johnny shrugged, handing me the picture. "You're the one being crazy here, Mitch. Talking about this place feeling like home, this picture, you are the same age this missing boy would be, how you know where things are."
"I know. I know."
"I've known you since seventh grade..." He shrugged again. "That's a year after this boy went missing."
"But I wasn't missing! I'm not missing." I said under my breath.
"But you'd just moved to town with your folks when we became friends. You never really have mentioned where you lived before that." Johnny replied. "Look, you're acting freaky, this place has you acting freaky. You can choose to forget about it, and we can get to the hotel, or you can--"
"Stay and check it out." I finished for him. I held the picture. I'd held similar photos in my parent's house. I knew my face. And this looked like my face. How could I not want to check it out? I knew people had look-a-likes. But this was just weird on all accounts. "Let's go."

*****
The door opened, revealing a woman, I forgot to breathe, she looked so familiar. So very familiar. "Yes?" She asked searching my face, a slight frown on her lips, glancing to Johnny, then back to me. He voice sounded like the one I often heard in my dreams. The voice of the angel in my mind.
I exhaled, pulling myself together. "I'm sorry." I told her, offering a smile. "To disturb you, I'm looking for a Mrs. Symphs?"
She nodded, "That's me, but if you're selling anything I don't want it."
I pressed my hand against the door, to keep her from shutting it. "No! No, I'm not...I'm not selling anything Mrs. Symphs." I said speaking more quickly. "I was just passing through town, and...well, I saw this." I held up the missing child's poster.
She froze for the briefest of moments. "And?" She whispered.
"Well....it." I let go of the door to rub a hand through my hair. "It looks like I did....when I was younger...like my school photos." I spoke more quickly. "I don't know if I'm this boy, and I know I'm causing you pain. But I just had to...well, know...to see...I'm sorry. This is causing you pain isn't it?" She had gone as white as a sheet, frozen like a statue. I wasn't known for being the most tactical of people when speaking. And it looked like I'd just stuck my foot in my mouth, and driven a spike through an aching heart. I took a step back. "I'm sorry. Truly. I shouldn't have."
"Wait." She whispered. "Don't go." The door swung open as she stepped forward, reaching out to touch my face, cradling my cheek in her palm. I closed my eyes, this felt so familiar. Her hand so warm and comforting. I'd never felt this relaxed with someone else touching my face, not even my parents. How could this stranger make me feel so relaxed? So at home?

-Inspiration from seeing a commercial for a new show called 'The Family.'

A Second Chance

I pulled the beanie lower over my hair, watching, wrapped up in an oversized jacket, as finally, maintenance returned to the broken elevator, a month after they'd left me trapped inside. Deaf to my screams for help. Deaf to the banging on the metal doors.
I hung out in the shadows, as they turned on the power, fixed whatever issue they couldn't have fixed a month ago, and bring the elevator up to the tenth floor.
Despite knowing what they would find, I leaned forward, curious to see the scene from an outsider's perspective as the elevator doors opened.
I bit my lip, cringing back. Oh yah. It was worse than I'd expected. The smell was enough to make a grown man cry. These maintenance guys didn't stand a chance. The sight that greeted them wasn't pretty.
Claw marks in the padding, bloody streaks on the wall. I had fought for my life in that tiny cell.
I'd lost.

If it had only been a few days, maybe, maybe I would have survived.
But a month, without food or water. I had no chance, though until the very end I had believed that I had. That someone would find me. That I would be rescued.

No one had heard me.
No one had wondered about my absence.
I'd been stuck right under their noses.
And nothing.

My rotting body. I turned away. I had loved that skirt I'd been wearing. My hair, a rats nest I could hardly get under control on a good day. And my fingers, bloody, worn down from repeated attempts to escape.

I missed me. I'd had a good life. Not the one I wanted, but one I was content with, happy with. Just trying to make ends meet until I could accomplish my goals.

I stayed, watching as the ambulance arrived, as the crime scene unit showed up, as my body was photographed and finally, finally wheeled away.
With the decomposition, there would be no easy way to identify me. But finally, I had been found.

"Get your fill, Miss?"
I looked up surprised that a police officer was standing in front of me.
"What?"
"Of the scene." He jerked his head to the elevator, "You've been standing here the entire time, I've been here. Probably even before then. Is that your handy work?" He asked flipping open a notebook. I didn't think that the police used those anymore. "Did you ensure this woman died?"
I exhaled, getting over my surprise that he actually saw me, spoke to me. Perhaps them finally finding my body meant that I could finally start over in this new one. "I tried to save her." I told him. "To no avail."
"Save her? This woman has been dead for at least a week."
My hands clenched, I met his eyes. Hoping he saw the pain in mine. "Three weeks actually. Stuck in that elevator for a week and a half before she died, because those idiots assumed it was empty. Because the residents of this hole in the wall of an apartment thought it was just partygoers making a fuss just one floor up or down."
He frowned, hand drifting down to the gun at his waist. "How do you know all this? Why did you not call for them sooner?"
"Because, Officer." I said, pulling the hood of my jacket over my beanie. "I am the dead woman."

-Inspiration from reading an article online about a woman's body being found in an elevator after maintenance turned it off and didn't come back to fix it for a month.

Away from the Fire

"David!"
I flinched, even before Chef Yuri caught me by my ear, tugging it hard, to get me to my feet. "What did I tell you!" She dragged me away, smacking me with a spoon.
"But!"
"No buts!" She scolded tossing me back at the foot of the fireplace sending up a fine cloud of ash in the process. "You belong in the kitchen. Get that through your skull before I beat it into you."
"Yes, Chef Yuri." I told her, as I picked myself up, brushing myself off. I hardly glanced at the door, but she smacked me again with the spoon. "Get to turning those spits." She said pointing to the hogs tied over the fires. "If you let these burn, you'll spend the night scrubbing every inch of this place.
I grimaced. Sure, yah, whatever, she probably would still find reason for me to lose yet another night of sleep in this hole of a kitchen.
I grabbed the metal spits, the heat hardly penetrating through my calloused hands and turned them. Belong to the kitchen? Ha. Hardly. I didn't want to stay here for the rest of my life. Slaving away so that the rich and mighty could enjoy a good cooked meal. Why couldn't I see the rest of the palace? What harm could come from that? Tracked dirt? Like the maids didn't spend all day making the place spotless anyways.

-Inspiration from watching Anastasia. "Demetri, you belong in the kitchen."

Fetch

The ringing of my cell jerked me awake. Groaning I blindly felt around until the smooth case touched my fingers, Fumbling I picked up. "Hello?" I asked groggily.
"Frank Klauffe?" A female voice asked me on the other end.
I rolled over on my back, rubbing at my eyes. "Speaking." This probably wasn't good. Good news never came for me nowadays. Maybe I was being kicked out of my apartment again. Got my car towed, some other misfortune to prove that I really was cursed.
"Then, Mr. Klauffe, I'd like to congratulate you. Miss Jane Covee has decided to hire you as her assistant. You will be expected to be in her office in an hour."
Click.
Her end of the line went dead before I could even process what she was saying.
Hired? I dropped the phone onto the bed, massaging my temples. How could someone hire me if I'd never interviewed for them? Jane Covee? Why in the world would she want to hire me out of hundreds of thousands of real applicants? I rolled back over onto my stomach, pulling my pillow over my head. In an hour huh? A job....I exhaled. "Might as well go see." I muttered, pulling the pillow off my head as quickly as I pulled it over. I pushed myself out of bed, staggering to my closet to get ready. If this was a real gig, it would be much needed.

Jane Covee raised her perfectly symmetrical eyebrows, giving me a once over that made me feel like I was a pig at market. And not a very presentable one at that. "Tennis shoes...dress pants, button up short sleeved shirt." She remarked. What was she? A fashion hostess now?
I nodded, keeping my temper in check.
"Why the tennis shoes?"
"So I can run at your beck and call without tripping." I told her as politely as I could.
"Clever." She said with a slow smile. "A mutt with a head on his shoulders."
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. "Mutt?" I repeated. She couldn't know, could she?
Her eyes sparked. "I do believe that this will work. Frank is it? Make those shoes useful and run down and grab me a club sandwich. No mustard." She turned her back to me, shuffling papers on her desk.

-Inspiration -begun from watching Lucifer. Shifted through random thought process

Survive

Keep. Moving.
One foot.
In front.
Of.
The Other.
Keep.
Moving.
Water.
Water.
Somewhere.
Water.
Somewhere.
Food.

I crawled around the cage, time and time again. My tail dragging through the waste and blood of the unlucky ones. The ones who had succumbed to the lack of food and water too soon.
Their scales concaved into their skinny bodies. Wounds, bite marks, gnawed on limbs showed what the others had attempted to do to survive.

I could feel myself getting colder. The sun must be gone from the outside, with darkness that brought the death. Warmth. That too I would need to survive.
I curled up, as tightly as I could, huddling in a corner away from the others who had perished.
No water. No food. No warmth. I closed my eyes.
Perhaps...
Perhaps I should stop fighting.
Give up.
Like the others.
Die.

Movement,
Warmth.
Something picked me up.
I twitched, opening my eyes the barest of cracks.
Bright light.
Warmth below.
Sounds from above.
It was one of those odd giant creatures. The ones that occasionally stomped by, shaking the earth.
This one held me.
It was warm.
So warm.
It made sounds as it moved me away from the cage.
Placed me in warm water.
I lowered my head, opening my mouth to gulp down as much as I could.
Luxuriating in the sensation.

This....
Maybe....
Was this the beginning of more to life? To food and water? To heat? All the time?
I lifted my head.
Hoping so.
Survival would be easier if it was so.

-Inspiration from article online about ill treated animals.

Through The Wall

If another word passed through his lips, he wouldn't have any.
I reacted, the man in my grasp, flying across the room, shattering the glass wall as he crashed through it. Oh the noise it made was like music to my ears. As was the satisfying crack of his head against the desk.
It wasn't enough though. He had made so many suffer.
I stepped forward, intent on making him suffer just as much if not a hundred times worse. Torn limb from limb. The scent of his blood in the air, soon it would splatter the wal--
"LUKE!"
I barred my teeth, looking down at the puny human trying to block my path.
"Luke." She said more softly, staring at me.
The look in her eyes.
I blinked. The roaring fire, quenched by a frozen avalanche.
I drew in a breath.
Right. Right. "Right." I took a step back, distancing myself from the situation. "All yours then?" I said adjusting my cufflinks.
Being human. Sometimes. It was really irritating.

*****

"How did you do that?"
I glanced at her, drawn from my own internal conversation. "Do what?" I said, straightening in my seat.
She sat down next to me. "Pick up a man and toss him across a board room like he was a tennis ball."
I exhaled. "This again?"
"Are you drugged?"
I made a face. "Don't offend me. Drugged?" I shook my head. "Lyssa, Lyssa, Lyssa. Those little trinkets wouldn't effect me even if I used them." I'd tried them once. To see what the fuss was about. Humans and their stimulants. I almost wished it had effect me. Be so much easier to blame something.
"Then how?"
"What excuse do you want? How about Adrenaline. There you go. Adrenaline. Next subject."
"Stop being flippant Luke! I want answers."
"No.  You don't!" I turned more fully to her, reigning back the fires I could feel burning in my eyes. "Because the real answers, which I have already given by the way, you won't believe."
Her chin jutted out, refusing to back down. "You were going to kill him."
"Yes."
"And that doesn't bother you?"
"No."
"It should."
"It doesn't. That weevil wouldn't be breathing right now. Wouldn't have the chance to hurt any other girls. I thought it would be quite justified."
I got to my feet, adjusting my jacket. "Now, I've admitted I'm a monster, happy now?"

-Inspiration from watching the show Lucifer.