Writing Challenge ~ 1st - 14th March 2011

[Britwitch]

WRITING CHALLENGE ~ 1st - 14th MARCH 2011​

Due to popular demand the challenge will become a bi-weekly event. So without further ado, here is this month’s first prompt…

http://i173.photobucket.com/albums/w62/Britwitch/WC_March2011.jpg​

You can involve the prompt itself in your piece and make your link to the prompt as obvious or as subtle as you like or use it simply as inspiration for something else. You can use part of the prompt, just one aspect of the image, or use it in its entirety.

The word limit for this challenge is 2,250 words and your submission can take whatever form you desire – poetry or prose, complete story or a vignette. Erotic or not, serious or light hearted, it’s whatever you want it to be!!

Post only your submissions in this thread, constructive comments and reviews are to be posted in the appropriately named – Writing Challenge Review Thread

The deadline for this month’s challenge is Monday 14th March 2011, the second challenge of the month is due to start on Tuesday 15th March!

Previous challenges and reviews can be found here.

Happy writing!

 

[Mephistophelily]

Short, cheesy, luuuuv.

I thought about you yesterday. I just sat in that old swing, down by the lake- you remember, the one overlooking the rock formation? The geese were back. They had so many babies with them. The most adorable things; just little balls of down, trying to keep up. Reminded me of us. How you would go so fast, and I'd try so hard to catch you.

Our first kiss was right there. You were so calm about it. It was such a surprise. I really thought you were trying to trick me again. But sitting there, alone, thinking of you... I missed it so much. I miss you so much.

You were the best thing in my life. You made everything so much easier to handle. Everything that scared me, hurt me, brought me to tears.... You erased it. How could anything hurt me with you by my side? I wish I could have that back, more than you could ever know.

I regret everything. Every word we said in anger, every cross thought between us. I wish I could take it all back. I wish you could see what happened to me since then. The hurt- the pain- it returned tenfold. I need you to take it away. But you can't. The day you left me, everything just... Died.

I love you.

Yours always,
Xxxxxx
Clara


She stared at the letter. Her hands were shaking. How could such clear writing come with such tear filled vision? Lifting the paper to her lips, she kissed it tenderly, her lipstick making a reddened print in the background. "I love you...," she choked out, picking up the lighter beside her and holding it to the paper's edge.

Her grandmother told her a story that night. The night her world exploded...
Words can reach to heaven.

The paper crumpled and charred, twisting its awkward shapes on the ground as the embers flew in the breeze. Clare managed to smile through her tears, watching the remains of her note dance on the earth.

 

[Noon_Shadow]

Fucking Bastard

Andrea felt the excitement stirring again when she saw him. Despite all he'd done, she still loved him-loved him desperately, remembering how he had used to be, how happy they had been together. That fucking bastard, how she hated what he had done. But he still loved her-loved her always. That was his promise-"always." She knew he loved her. Her Mark, her dearest Mark. Mark, the first man she'd ever spread her legs for. He'd taken her virginity roughly while she screamed and cried. The pain had been enormous, she still shuddered to remember it, but at the time she had felt only love, numbing out the rest. Mark, who had shared his love for the outdoors, who had made that beautiful picnic on their anniversary, and made love her to her on that grassy hill. Mark, who had been stolen by that bitch Sophie-no, no, he was hers. Hers always.

There had been no other men. When she was younger, there had been boys, clumsy boys with nasty breath who fumbled at her breasts. And there were others who looked at her and wanted nothing except to fuck her. They had never loved her, not like Mark. Mark had loved her. She would never have let anyone fuck her who did not love her, and Mark had promised to love her always. She would not fuck anyone else while he lived.

Mark had moved, changed his number, he'd deleted his Facebook account, and he had changed all his goddamn e-mail passwords. That bastard. That fucking bastard. It had taken her weeks to track him down, and she'd had to lie and charm her way through his former boss to find him. She knew he could never escape her. Andrea hated him for hiding from her, hated him for running. She wanted to burn the memory of being left, wanted to sear it from her mind. She clutched his letters, his beautiful letters, to her chest. She ran her hand across the inside of her thigh. She was wet again, just from having seen him, having remembered. Sweet dear Mark, finally they would be reunited.

She crept up to his house. It was pretty isolated out here. He would really enjoy that, she thought. He certainly didn't think anything of leaving his door open while he unloaded the car. Oh, but he was gorgeous. His light brown hair was blowing just slightly in the wind, and his arms impressively handled a particularly large load of supplies as he carried it inside, muscular enough to make out his definition at this distance. It almost made her giggle again-she would feel those arms wrapped around her again, and he would kiss her lips, and he would press her up against the wall and take her there, and the heat of their love would burn, burn all the bad things away. Beautiful, perfect Mark. Fucking Bastard.

After she went inside, she slipped up to the house and followed him in the door. He didn't see her at first. Her hand slipped down to the inside of her thigh again, sliding against her skin. It was hard for to breathe-his proximity was making her skin temperature rise. She smiled tentatively, clutching his letters possessively against her chest again, and waited for him to turn around. When he did, he jumped, shock evident on his face...no, no this was wrong.

"Andrea! What the fuck are you doing here?" he yelled. "Get the fuck out of here. This has got to stop. It's over!"

This was wrong...it wasn't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to embrace her, to take her, to be hers again. Make hot love to her, burn away his transgressions. Sweet beautiful Mark.

"It's that bitch Sophie, isn't it? ISN'T IT?!" She snarled and charged at him, and he raised his arms to fend her off. He was rough, he was grabbing at her, bruising her, and it felt so good. Fucking Bastard. She loved him so much.

"Always! ALWAYS! LOVE YOU, YOURS ALWAYS!" She yelled, as she shoved the letter in his face. He'd been so romantic back then, insisting that he had words he must commit to paper. Commit. It was written. It was forever. He'd written it.

"Andrea, for the last fucking time, there was nothing with Sophie," he said, his voice trying to soothe her. "There never was. She was a friend, that's all. I had known her for years before you, and it was never anything except your jealous imaginings. Sophie-"

"Don't fucking say her name! DON'T!" Sophie. Sophie, the fucking bitch. Sophie thought she could have Mark, but Mark was hers. Always hers. Hers always.

His voice was still soothing. She hated it. She hated that he thought she needed soothing, she hated that he was talking instead of fucking her. This was all wrong. "This is why we're through. You need to move on. This...obsession you have, it's driving you crazy-"

"DON'T call me CRAZY!" Her hand slid down to her thigh, and she grasped the knife she'd strapped there, almost right on her sex. He let out a surprised gasp as she jammed it into his chest, sinking in to the hilt. His flesh made almost a gurgling sound as though it was sucking the blade in. "You are MINE! ALWAYS MINE! YOURS ALWAYS, you said, YOURS ALWAYS!" She stabbed him again, and again, each thrust easier than the last, and his strong arms were no use to him because his strength was fading, and his arms closed around him, pulling her against him reflexively as he collapsed. His breath had been stolen with the first thrust which had pierced his lung. His blood was flowing freely while his eyes were fading away distantly. His faced looked shocked. And beautiful. Fucking Bastard. She grasped at his dying form, holding him tight, squeezing him. Her cheeks were wet-she was crying. But now he was quiet. Now he was hers. No one else's. Hers always. His last act had to been to grasp her close.

Finally, she pulled away. Pulled away and looked at him. He was covered in blood. So was the rug he'd fallen on. The letters. They were scattered across the floor. Some of them had blood on them as well. She knew what had to be done. His love for her had burned so hot in life, it would burn in death. Burn, burn and cleanse, and things would be as they were. It all had to burn.

There was big tank of gasoline in his garage, which fueled his back-up generator. She slipped away from his body-reluctantly, because she could not deny herself his final embrace-she got up and fetched it. She poured it all over him, doused the nearby fireplace, and spread a trail leading all over the house. Then she scooped up the letters-the precious letters-and stacked them on top of his body. They would all be gone, and she would free. She lifted one letter, lighting it-it made excellent kindling for this kind of blaze. She dropped it as she made her way out the door, walking away as the flame quickly spread.

As she slipped out, a tiny bit of paper fluttered out with her. Almost as if it was chasing her. It landed next to her on the driveway, dropping lazily to ground. " love you, Yours Always" it read. Fucking Bastard. Andrea broke down crying there, falling to her knees. She still held the knife, her clothes still soaked in Mark's blood.

 

[Asa]

She watched the letter burn. She relit it and relit it and it always snuffed out before burning completely. So she took the scrap to the table and tossed it down by his beer. He would never forget his beer and now he would never forget this little note… one of his many lies. The business… His work always came first… He said that she came first that time as a family came first but that’s never how it worked out. So now… She was out… in her mind she had already been gone for months now. She didn’t want it to be this way. She loved him too much but she had to get out from under the depression and pain… away from the “fend for yourself” dinners night after night. Out from under the burden of stress wondering where he was or if he was going to be alright.

This was never the path she saw her life taking and in all honesty it probably wouldn’t last all that long but for now she had to make a point. She had to see if he would even notice. She had to see how he would react or if he would even care. She had to see if it would matter to her if he did. Wiping away a tear she stared at the remains of a note and then placed her rings there with it and turning she called her sister…

I’m on my way. No… no… Everything’s fine… just… needing to get away. I’ll be there in a bit. Give the boys a hug for me and tell them we will go fishing or swimming when I there. No… just me… Honestly everything is fine… See ya then.

Quietly she walked down the hall and out the front door. Starting her car she backed out of the driveway and was gone. Minutes later she found herself staring at the interstate on ramp across the red light from her and sighed… it was now or never. If she chickened out and did not get onto the interstate then he won. She had to make a point and this was the only way she knew to do it that would make him make the first move to fix the problems. She wondered if he had noticed yet or if he would notice at all before tonight when he would drag himself back into the main house and away form his work looking for dinner or to grab a tv dinner and his beers and go flop down in front of the tv to find something that he will just end up falling asleep ten minutes into if that long. Waking up in tome to want to go to bed and talk about playing around and how they have not been able to be close due to all his work load and how he wants to change that and make more time that never happens.

She realized that during all her day dreaming she was on the interstate but not headed towards her sisters. She didn’t know where she was headed just that she felt the need to head down this stretch of road and see where it would take her. She found her mind drifting once more to those words… on that infernal little note she tried to burn.

I love you,

Yours always

Maybe in some way he meant those words in another way they could have been yet another buy off. Always handing her money… little gifts or little notes left here and there to make up for his never being around and them never really being a family. She had to wonder how either of them could really love the other when they never really spent time together. Were they together now out of familiarity. Too used to having someone around and not willing to give that up no matter how little they could care about the other. No… She loved him and this would just end up as some little vacation that will change him for a week or two, then it would be back to normal and the computer would become her friend and confidante. While she waited for his business and dreams to pan out in the way he thinks they will.

She admired his hopes and drive but wished it included his family. To her it never did… There was family and then there was the business and neither were ever equal or mattered even the same amount. His words said it was all for the family and the family was important but his actions always spoke volumes to the contrary. His agitation and anger if he was disturbed while he was allegedly working when all she could see was him sitting there drinking a beer or talking on the phone to his brother or buddies, set it more firmly in her mind that he could spend more time if he really wanted to but… clearly he didn’t. So why did it hurt so much to do this… to just drive down this road and to not look back.

A couple hours later she found herself somewhere she thought she would never see again. That little restaurant where they stopped to eat on their honeymoon, she sat there in her car in the parking lot staring at the door. Watching happy couples walking in and out families with children and young couples on a date… she barely remembered those days now. She took a deep breath and wiped away the tears and after looking in the mirror she fixed up her makeup and hair a little and stepping from her car with the last “gift” of money from him in her purse and walked inside. The money was always pretty good but it was no substitute for his time and attention when they were together.

Walking onto the restaurant and waiting to be seated she did not realize the place would be so full. Though it was not like she had anywhere to be, she would head to her sisters after she ate here. She found herself watching all the happy families and couples and felt strangely out of place here suddenly but that never really stopped her before so it won’t stop her now.

Suddenly the light in the restaurant grew dim and she looked out the window to find that a storm had rolled in fairly quickly. She called her sister real quick to let her know she had stopped to get something to eat and would wait out there storm there at the restaurant instead of trying to drive in it. With that the hostess motioned her over to a table and shortly after that the waitress came and took her order. Sipping her glass of water till the server brought her hot tea she watched to storm and the winds and the rain. A sigh fell from her lips as it seemed far too fitting that it be raining while her heart was growing numb to the whole situation.

First they brought her appetizer and another hot tea as she smiled and slowly ate the celery, carrots and dip while she waited for her soup and main course. The storm had hit but took its sweet time budging after that. Just like a man she thought. It got comfortable and that’s where its going to stay no matter how many people want it to move along and be on it sway. No consideration for the plans, hopes, or dreams of anyone but its self. She watched as the families ran with coats draped over the children to their cars and even things that she could never imagine in her life. Husbands running out in the downpour to get the car and pull it up to the door for their wives and boyfriends doing the same for their girlfriends. Had he ever done that for her… She couldn’t remember if he ever had or not. Their time of really being a happy couple seemed like another lifetime entirely, like a fuzzy dream of some past life or something. Like it was never a part of this life… maybe it wasn’t maybe it was just so long ago it no longer mattered. She began eating and retired from watching people as she did. Focusing solely on the food before her she suddenly couldn’t help but to look around and try to see just how much this place has changed and finding that it had not changed much at all and then it hit her… she was sitting at the same table they ate on their honeymoon.

A sigh at that unfortunate revelation brought a tear to her eyes as she continued to eat. Not that she really had much of an appetite after that but knew she needed to eat. Finally done and the storm was still going strong so she sat there staring out the window waiting for this storm like she waited for him. She sighed thinking about all the times she could’ve cheated… or how many times she could’ve had a one night stand and yet she never did. Always loyal to the man who hardly had time for her and when he did give her time it always felt like it was begrudgingly, like he was doing her some grand favor at great inconvenience to himself to even be bothered with it. She let her mind get lost in the storm and the server seemed to get the idea and kept her in fresh hot tea and watched the storm with her for a little bit. When it looked like there was no break in its relentless bombardment the rain finally let up for a bit and she paid her tab and ran to her car and once more tried to head towards her sisters place.

Arriving at her sisters surprisingly when she got there her little nephews seemed to have a secret as she watched them intently for a moment.

We can’t go fishing or swimming but that’s okay we like seeing you… They giggled in unison as they danced around her after they got their hugs.

Well you two go run play for a bit while I talk to your mother and we will figure out something else to do okay?

They nodded and ran off deeper into the house. She looked to her sister with a raised brow.

Someone called here looking for you and they answered the phone. He talked to them and that told him point plank that it was “Unacceptable to make their aunt cry” and if he ever did it again they would quit going to get ice cream with him.

Your kidding? Do they think that would actually work? Its so sweet they think he can be manipulated with something so simple as not going to get ice cream with them… but for him that would give him more time for his business and all that crap… Nothing is ever going to change… that’s why my rings are at the house with the charred remains of one of his I love you yours always notes on the table by his precious afternoon can of beer.

She shook her head and hugged her sister thinking her nephews were so cute for their attempts to change a grown mans mind but knew just like everyone else it probably didn’t matter either way to him what they said or thought about him. She broke away from the hug and wiped away a few tears.

I am genuinely surprised he even noticed I was gone. How long ago did he call?

About an hour ago 15 minutes after you called me. He is not as oblivious as he acts… at least this time… I am not defending him… you needed to get out and break free and I back you all the way sis you know that but… Be sure that taking off is really what you want okay?

What other choice do I have sis… I can’t stay there knowing I only rank somewhere above going to sleep. I can’t live like that any more… I can’t… I just… Can’t… I won’t.

Don’t tell me that sis… Tell him. Her sister motioned and sons ran back over and guided their aunt into the living room where her husband had been sitting playing video games with them. The older of the two looked at him. You heard what she said to mommy… She better not have to live like that… whatever that is. The younger one barked out… YEAH as he stood “protectively” by his aunt.

I know little man that she has tried to tell me for a long time now and it took this to get the point across… This time… Message received. Holding his arms out to her. Can we go home and get reacquainted as a family? Or would you rather stay here and you and I talk and hang out with family like we rarely get to do because of my work blind stupidity?

Lets stay here I promised the boys some time so what are we playing? And as for the rest of it I will believe it when I see it.

He nodded and handed her her rings and the I love you Yours always note that he put in a frame with a picture of them in front of the restaurant on their honeymoon.

 

[Cosmic Knight]

Mission Completed.


Star XXV33.3/mission

To, Commander Krkjyb

From Strvb 2nd class, Gorron.

My mission here is now complete Excellency, and my conclusions are exactly as you suggested they might be when I departed our mother ship.

The attached image, of the charred written message, lying on the surface, was taken in one of what these people call “forests”. They intimate that they love their forests, as they love their partners, yet, in both cases, they are seemingly bent on self destruction. There is little or no hope for the continued existence of this so called civilisation. They, unlike others in the galaxy, have yet to learn the secrets of moderation and preservation.

There is, it is true, a very small minority, who try to warn of the dangers of fossil fuel over usage, who also try to save the forests, and the animals. They are though, outweighed, and indeed savaged and pilloried, by the conglomerates, and so called civilised societies upon this planet. This is, it has to be said, a wasted planet.
This is a world of contradictions, and sections, controlled by the minority, who have everything, the resources, the power, as in military, and total disregard for their actions. These despots are prepared to do almost anything to keep it that way, and the majority, for who a simple existence is just a dream? They have no hope at all, they are but pawns to the despots.

The outlook here is now is one of massive self destruction, and my time here is done.
I thank you Commander for this opportunity, and for my mission. All that remains now is for me to say that it is time. This world is beyond redemption, and we must destroy it now, before they have the ability to inhabit, and to desecrate our other worlds.

I remain, for the lifetime of our galaxy and beyond, your faithful servant.
Goodbye my Lord.

 

[Vail_Indigo]

Vera and the Slitherthing

redacted

 

[Last_Rider]

Always

She was sitting at her desk, a soft smile creasing her lips as the pen slid easily over the paper. The message was one that seemed more juvenile than she did, but perhaps that was the point. There was a sparkle in her eyes that hadn't been there in a while, and her lips parted just enough to reveal the perfect white teeth they hid. If you listened closely you could just make out a soft melodic hum that seemed to resonate in the room.

Her pink stained lips kiss the bottom of the envelope, a little giggle interrupting the previous near quiet as the note was folded carefully and set in an envelope. She could get it delivered in the morning, for now she began undoing the braid in her hair and brushing it out. Almost unconsciously her voice began working, wordlessly, but perfectly in time with the low hum that comfortably filled the room. Finally done with her hair she stands, stretches, and half dances her way into the bed.

The room is still once her breathing evens out and sleep has claimed her. Time becomes irrelevant, the occupant is dreaming blissfully and even the low hum has dissipated. The stillness becomes total, only the sound of her breathing and the soft rustle of bedding in response to the motion are audible.

The motion of the full length mirror as it slides back is silent so as not to disturb the ambiance of the room.

His motions are also silent in the dark room, a very low candle is unlit in his hands as he moves to the desk and finds the note. It is unsealed, and with a strike to the candle it emits its low soft light. It doesn't disturb her in the least as his eyes scan the note. By the time he has reached the bottom his vision is a touch blurry with tears. He wants to rage, to tear this not to pieces, to scream his rage and hurt to the heavens.

But he does not.

The note is perfectly refolded and replaced, the candle snuffed out with barely a breath, and darkness again consumes the room. He knew this would come, there was nothing to be done about it, fighting to hold on only caused more problems than it could ever hope to solve. Besides, there would be another sooner or later that could honor her word.

His touch is almost ethereal as he caresses her sleeping face, his voice scarcely discernible as he whispers the word she spoke to him, and now sends to another.

"Always."

 

[xOxCherryxOx]

Slipping down the stairs with the sound of the shower running behind her Kelly knew she'd have to work quickly. It was Friday and the sun was just starting to blossom and shine through the kitchen window as Kelly rifled through the drawer and pulled out a small card with a short piece of yarn dangling from it. It would be the perfect way to surprise him. Smiling, she tied the key to the cottage she rented for the weekend for their anniversary to it and jotted a short message in her delicate scrawl.

Meet me at 311 Laurel Lane after work.
Happy Anniversary baby.
I love you.
Yours always xxx

Dashing out to his car she tied it around his sun visor, tucking the key and note against the roof of the car but knowing when he seen the purple yarn he would flip it open and see his surprise. Smiling, she raced back, snatching the newspaper off the porch before walking inside just as his lean form was coming down the stairs keys in hand.

"Here's your paper baby, have a good day at work ok?" she tip toed and kissed him, letting her arms wrap his waist tight, breathing in his fresh clean scent and rubbing her lithe body against his.

"Mmm kitten I can't wait to get off work and spend the weekend off with you. No distractions, just you and I. Think of a restaurant you want to go to baby and I'll take you there tonight. Anything for my girl." He gave her a warm squeeze lifting her off her feet and patting her bottom. "God you're beautiful you know that right? I have to be the luckiest man in the world being married to you. One year so far but there will be so many more and I‘m looking forward to it."

"I'm the lucky one lover. Now get going and hurry back home to me. We have a whole weekend alone together and I'm so ready to get it started."

"Me too princess, me too. I love you, mean it.."

I love you too, mean it.."

The door shut and she squeaked, so excited, running up the stairs and tugging down their suitcases to pack for the weekend. She opened her lingerie drawer first and was pulling out her stockings when she heard the loud crash and squeal of tires. Dread and foreboding iced through her body and for a moment she couldn't move.

Surely not.
It couldn't be him.

Dropping her clothing she flew down the stairs and out the front door looking left in the direction he would have been going. The first thing she seen was a semi jack knifed in the busy intersection with a car under it on fire. Smoke was billowing in the wind and she took off in a sprint screaming. The car was nearly engulfed but she could tell it was his silver sedan.

The wind picked up and fueled the flames, suddenly someone was dragging her back and she heard a bloodcurdling cry and realized it was her own. She had to get to him, had to pull him free. She couldn’t bear to loose her love. She fought the arms that held her, tried her best to get free when a little thing, floating in the air, fluttered down and landed at her feet, somehow familiar and her hiccupping cry waned as she leaned over and picked it up.

Love you
Yours always xxx

 

[fr33ks33k]

All That Remains

Remnants of lavender linger in the bitter air of Winter. Spring smothers the flames that represent the dying of a season, once thought immortal. All that remains are tatters; torn, twisted tokens of what once was. Words with more meaning than actions, lost to the carelessness of clandestine thoughts. All that remains are four words, taken far out of their context, never to deliver their noble and endearing message to their recipient. All that remains are three x's, pale imitations of the embraces they were meant to portray.

Billows of brimstone beckon to those foolhardy enough to brave the inferno. Promises of eternal love sting sweetly on their lips, even as the poison permeates. All that remains are cinders; crumpled, cracked crudities malformed by good intention. Words with more pleading than passion, diminished by the deceitfulness of desperate claws. All that remains are four words, the last you'll ever read, heard in a voice you thought was your savior. All that remains are three x's, simplistic strikes that show your time has run out.

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

Sacrifices

(This is the first thing I have written in a while, and it is a little far afield from my usual genre, but here goes!)

“Contact 3 o’clock!”

Pop pop pop pop

Gunfire rang out from three rifles in almost unison. Bullets screamed through the air, ripping into wood, cement, flesh, and bone. A body still shuddering from the impact of hot metal crashed hard against the door frame, then fell backward onto the sand.

“Tango down.” Said another voice as for the moment the gunfire left only silence; one which hung heavy in the air.

The silence was broken by the wracking sob of a child. Too dirty and swathed in clothing to discern gender but it was trembling with fright, clinging to an equally raggedly looking woman. In broken, heavily accented English she spoke, her voice quavered with just as much fright as the child’s yet she had a better handle on her body language. “How… long until escape?”

The first man spoke up in a firm tone. “Three Minutes Ma’am. Don’t worry we will get you out of here.”

Everyone jerked their eyes skyward as the muffled sound of gunfire came from the roof. The other rifles sounded like glass bottles filled with liquid exploding. Compared to this rifle they might as well have been a pin drop. Each exclamation of weapon fire was only made louder by the pause in between, almost like a heartbeat.

The gunfire halted and the radio crackled to life. “Sir, three vehicles approaching. I was able to stop them cold but we have multiple Tango’s on foot. AK’s and a few RPG’s. Prep the perimeter.”

The radio went quiet.

Crack …. Crack…. Crack… Crack.

Bullets streaked from the long barrel of the rifle. It was a weapon designed to penetrate armored vehicles so as bullets struck human flesh the impact was horrific. Flesh and bone was never meant to take such impact, even a glancing blow from the weapon was likely fatal. Impact severed limb from torso and burst through to strike another man behind.

The rifle fell silent again and the radio crackled. “A thousand two hundred yards and closing. We are going to be overrun Price. Come back.”

Captain Price stood up with a resigned sigh and nodded his head at the two other riflemen. “Torrez, Erickson. Prep the claymores.” Then he pressed his hand down on the radio and called back. “Perimeter is being prepped. Anything you can do to buy us time Carter?”

Clack…. Clack…. Clack… Clack

“I’m out Sir. Throw me up Torrez 203 and all the rounds you have left. You will get your time.”

Price barked out. “Torrez. I need your rifle and all the rounds you have left for it.”

The dark haired man nodded his head and unshouldered his weapon, passing it and all his ammunition to Price. Then he stepped outside and came back a moment later with one of the many fallen AK-47’s scavenged from the dead.

Price squelched the radio and growled. “Coming up Carter.”

Price pushed aside several mismatched wooden planks that made up the ceiling and raised the rifle up to where Carter was laying prone, looking through the scope of his rifle. Feeling the gun slide to his right he put a hand on it and lowered the sniper rifle.

“Well, this is seriously fubar. We were told light resistance. Does that look like light resistance to you Carter?”

“No sir. They are almost in RPG range. I’ll slow them down.”

With a simple nod Price slide back through the makeshift ceiling and took up his weapon again to cover the entryway.

The building itself was a small. It had survived a mortar attack a week past but it was on its last legs. Plaster walls and rickety wood were not very good protection, but it gave them a choke point to concentrate their fire, and now it gave them a point of egress. The landing zone was just behind them, but this was the only passable building left. The entire rest of the street was impassible rubble. The had to go through this building to get to the evac.

Thump!

The low sound of the impact burst grenades being fired from the barrel of the rifle echoed from the roof; Followed quickly by a second. From the north explosions and screams could be heard as they closed the distance between the building.

Torrez and Erickson got back behind cover and Torrez turned toward Captain Price and shook his head. “Are you sure this is going to work Sir?”

Price leveled his gaze at Torrez and frowned thoughtfully for a moment before speaking quietly. “I don’t know Torrez, but it is the only thing we have left. There are just too many of them out there for those mines to be used any other way. We have to hold this building!”

The explosions of the grenade launch were slowly advancing closer and closer to the front of the building, when suddenly the radio blared and Carter called out. “RPG! LEFT! COVER!”

It sounded like a mixture of a woman screaming, and the sound of tires squealing on pavement as the rocket propelled grenade streaked toward the building. It fell short of it’s target and detonated near the left window. Sand and smoke filled the air as nearby rubble was turned into deadly missiles. Penny sized rocks flew in through the window and crashed against the inside of the building.

“Clear!” Barked the radio in Carter’s voice and then the radio went silent. The steady stream of the grenade launcher fire continued as he waited to hear from the rest of the unit.

“Clear” Price called over the radio and almost on top of it he growled. “Are those bastards in range yet?”

“If you pick your targets, yes. They are slowing up, taking cover. I think they intend to pummel us with a few more RPGs. “

“Torrez, Erickson. Get to a window and engage. ETA is a minute. We just need to stall them a little longer.”

Price didn’t want to see if the other two did as he commanded. He was already at a window himself. Gunfire began to ring out from the building as the soldiers engaged. The enemy soldiers continued to advance but at a slow pace.

“RPG 12 o’clock! RPG 3 o’Clock! Cover!”

Price, Torrez, and Erickson all dove to the floor as explosions rocked the building. It felt as if the building might fall in around them.

“Clear!” they barked out in unison. Silence fell from the roof. Then the sound of gunfire rang out from the roof. It halted and the radio crackled to life. “Price, they are pushing now. They must be out of RPGs. 30 seconds to evac.”

“Alright! We are falling back. We are going to blow the mines. Carter, get off that roof!” Price started to heard the terrified civilians out the back of the building and into the clearing where the transport would arrive.

More gunfire rang out from the roof as Torez and Erickson began to help move the civilians. Price turned his head up to the roof and growled over the radio. “Carter! Off the roof so we can pop the mines!”

Bullets started to impact the building as the enemy soldiers were finally in range to fire back. Ducking his head with a growl Price opened his mouth to shout at the radio when it came to life with Carter’s voice, strained and hushed.

“I can’t do that sir. I didn’t get clear in time for that last RPG attack. I can’t move my legs. Give me the clacker Sir and I’ll blow the top.”

Price fell silent for a moment. He drew a deep breath and then spoke softly. “How bad is it son?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t get down in time and I’m bleeding pretty bad. Here. I need you to get this in the mail for me. It’s for my daughter.”

After the sound of a brief struggle he slipped a piece of paper through the slats of the wood. Price reached up to take it in his hand.

“Alright I’ll make sure your little girl gets this Carter.”

Pop pop pop

Gunfire streaked out from the left window as bullets shredded through Price’s body. He fell limp to the floor, a bullet had streaked through his now ruined left eye.

The radio crackled. “Contact in the building. Torrez, blow the top! Price is dead and I can’t get it. Just do it!”

With a deep breath Torrez pushed the button and the claymore mines burst. Small explosions rattled over the building and metal balls exploded from the detonated mines. The devices were intended to kill humans, not detonate buildings but they had been placed on already weak structural material. The building gave a grumble and shifted. The boards supporting Carter gave way as large piece of mortar came tumbling down. He fell to the floor with a grunt, though still managed to hold into his weapon.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his letter covered in Price’s blood and he crawled toward it with agonizing slowness. He clutched the letter to his chest and gave a wracking sob. He knew she would never get it, not now. Not only was he going to die, but the building didn’t fall in like they had hoped.

Rolling over onto his back he drew a deep, ragged breath. He felt tired all of a sudden, very tired. His limbs felt made of led, and despite the sunlight streaming through the ruined roof he was cold. He was just about to close his eyes and welcome darkness when he saw something glint with sunlight out of the far wall. His breath caught. Could it be too foolish to hope for?

It took all the strength he had just to raise the rifle. He could hear cautious movement outside as enemy soldiers became emboldened by the silence and the stillness of the building. He could hear voices calling out in their strange language.

“I love you Sasha…”

With the letter clutched to his chest he pulled the trigger with the last of his strength and managed to squeeze off five rounds before the rifle fell from his hands. The bullets streaked toward the metal he had seen and struck it. Piercing the metal, and as he had hoped busting open the gas line. Amazingly it still had natural gas running through it. The consecutive bullet fire was enough to ignite the fuel and an explosion rocked the building.

As the smoke cleared nothing distinguishable remained of the building except a burning pile of rubble. Ash and dust settled to the sand and something caught the eye of the young girl who had been sobbing and clinging to her mother. Detangling from her the little girl bent down and picked the burnt object and looked at it. Handing it to her mother she spoke in similar broken English. “What this is?”

Her mother looked it over for a second, and tears stung her dark eyes. She whispered softly to her little girl, clutching her fiercely to her. “It is letter. It says Love you. Yours Always XXX”

 

[fddb410]

It was cold outside. The windows of the little house were frosted over in opaque crystalline patterns. The wind was making hollowing and making whistling noises up the chimney and around the two outside doors. He sat hunched over in the chair with his elbows resting heavily on his thighs. The chair was her chair by the fireplace and he was sitting in it watching the embers glow and his ‘life’ disappear in the flames...his last unspoken ‘I love you.’

------------------------------------------------------------

They’d met online and flirted with each other, playing games and posting on an ‘ adult’ site. Soon they began role-playing stories with each other and with others there. Some of their writing had become romantic and sexual too. They had seemed well-suited to each other from the start. Their stories always had decent plots, and some took unexpected twists and turns. That was at least the feedback they’d each gotten from their ’fans’ on the site. “Offline” they quickly became good friends. The would talk for hours on the phone or chat or text.

They over that first year, without any real conscious awareness or intention to do it, became more than just friends. They became best friends and then lovers. Finally after a year of their online and offline relationship they took things one step further. They met in the spring in a quiet little town in the mountains. The town which it turned out was nearly halfway between them. Though they’d exchanged photos and cards and gifts, meeting that first time had been both exhilarating and anxiety-provoking for him. But after the first few blushing minutes they were as natural with each other as always. They’d spent that first weekend together wandering about the town like young lovers, though they were both a far distance from being young. His memory was that they were nearly always together, hand in hand, hugging and kissing whenever the spirit moved them,. They shared dreams, hopes, and tidbits about themselves that had not been shared in the year of their online relationship. The first night of that first weekend together they made love for the first time.

There had been several of those weekends in the next year and a half. They both wanted more than that but they had commitments back at their homes. He had aged parents he was taking care of and then monitoring when they moved into assisted living and then into long-term care. She had two grown children, a girl just starting in college and a son beginning in graduate school. They both needed her moral and financial support. He was retired, but she, being a decade younger, was still working,

As time moved on with them they talked more and more of ‘their time’ and how and where they wanted it to be. It seemed like such a perfect dream and plan that they never considered that it might never be. Certainly on his part it was very often what kept him going and his spirits up as he dealt with the eventual passing of each of his elderly parents. They supported each other through the tough parts and reveled together through the high times. Some few months after the last funeral he’d asked her to marry him. He proposed that he’d move to live with her until their dreams of ‘their’ time could be fulfilled. She quite eagerly accepted his proposal but they mutually decided that the wedding plans would be put on hold until her kids were on their own and it was truly ‘their’ time.

So he stayed put where he was. They did find the cabin on one of their weekends and bought it together and that’s where they meet from then on, enjoying each other’s company, the quiet of the place and their time making love and simply enjoying each other.

-------------------------------------------------------

He had been at the cabin now for three days. He had been worried about her because he’d not heard from her in the ways that had grown to be their routine. He was afraid that something was very wrong. He’d sent a letter from his home a couple weeks ago telling her of his plan for coming here and doing some work on the place. Even though their time together was scheduled for a month hence he’d invited her to join him if she could get away. But he had not heard from her. He’d checked the mailbox at home a couple times a day in hopes that that there would be some word from her but there had not been anything. She’d not been online either and he checked nightly to see if she’d been at their usual sites but there was no evidence that she had been there. There were things that needed to be attended to at the cabin. The winter had been hard and they’d decided to close the place up until the warmer weather of spring, so he’d come up here despite the gnawing worries in his gut and heart.

There hadn’t been any calls or letters or emails there either...at least not until today. Today in the morning mail there was the letter. He ‘knew’ that it carried bad news. It was addressed formally to him...to Mister Timothy Jameson, which wasn’t at all how she addressed things to him. It was written in a feminine hand but one that he did not recognize. The envelope but had her return address written up in the corner instead of the funny little address stickers she’d always used. When he opened finally after building up his courage a beat up card from her had fallen out. It smelled of her favorite scent and inside was a brief note from her.

“Baby...I’m so sorry but I can’t make it up there with you. Things are popping at work and I can’t get away. Just know I love you honey...we can call each other each night you’re there and you know...before bed. Love you always, your sweetheart, Jen.”

He’d held that card for hours, unable to get past what he knew was terribly true, yet unable to read the letter that was sent with it. Finally he’d steeled himself to do it and with sobbing curses had read the note over and over again as he tried to absorb the horrible truth.

Dear Mr. Jameson,

My mother spoke very often of you when we’d have our ‘girl time’ as she called it. She always smiled when she did. You obviously made her very happy. Though she never shared much with me or my brother about how you’d met...it was very clear that she loved you so very much. I really hate writing to you in this way since we’ve never met, but I promised her I would. She was so looking forward to a life with you which makes it so much harder to write this.

Mom, I’m so sorry to say, is gone from all of us.

She was hit crossing the street on the way to the post office to mail a card to you. I’ve enclosed it with this letter. I’m sorry that it’s so tattered but that’s how I found it in her things at the hospital. Mom died as a result of her injuries a week ago. Her spine had been affected so badly that she was not experiencing any pain...thank god...but the damage to the rest of her body was more than...more than she could survive. If it’s any comfort to you, she didn’t suffer or linger as she was and she was always thinking of you.

I and my brother were with her at the end and she made me swear that I’d tell you what had happened to her. She knew you’d be beside yourself with worry since she’d not gotten back to you about getting to the cabin. She said to tell you this in just this way...that she loves you very much and that you’ll still have ‘your’ time together...but in a much different and better place...and that you’re not to hurry to get there...she’ll be patient and wait for you.

Call me if you wish...I’ll keep her cell with me. I’m sorry for you and for ourselves,

With all my mother’s love,

I’m Amy.

Now he sat by the fire with tears streaming down his face watching the letter he’d written to her the day before fade into a black curled ash in the glowing embers of their fireplace. He’d crumpled it in an angry moment and tossed it into the fire as he swore an oath against his god. Now he regretted that as it faded into ash. With the poker he quickly saved the last remnant and put his last unspoken “I love you” in her card with her last unspoken “I love you.” As his body shook in sorrowful wails he held it tightly with the well read letter from Amy. The letter was now well-wrinkled from his fretful holding of it and it’s ink was tear-stained in several places. He felt so alone in that moment, as he knew he would for so many more moments to come.

 

[princesssexci]

Love you

XXX,
Yours Always


That is what he'd written Stacy before proposing to Chrissie...

NO! She wouldn't think about that. This was her wedding day. This was the day that Chrissie would be happy with the man she was in love with. The man she had always been in love with.

She and James had met in college. Yes, they had started out as just friends but it was clear from the day they had become friends that James and Chrissie were attracted to one another. However, she didn’t realize how much of a player James truly was. It wasn’t until she’d found the letter that she had found out he was sleeping with her best friend.

Yet, she never stopped loving him. She blamed it on the fact that they had so much in common. They enjoyed the same movies, music, books and they hardly ever fought. Her mother had told her once that if you don’t fight in a relationship then you should be worried.

Perhaps, she should have been.

Why was she marrying him then? What on earth had enticed her to marry a cheater? Did she not think she could do any better? It wasn’t as if she were an ugly girl. She had beautiful dark brown locks, creamy chocolate skin the color of brown sugar and her eyes were the color of almonds. Her body was to die for. She wasn’t too fat but she wasn’t stick thin either. She had curves in just the right places and a nice full cleavage.

Why was she doing this to herself? Did she hate herself so much that she would marry a man who so clearly didn’t love her? Better yet, the question should be why was he marrying her when it was so clear that he was in love with Stacy.

Chrissie paced back and forth with these thoughts plaguing her mind. Could the reason be that she was pregnant. That’s why many people got married despite the lack of love in the relationship. Of course, she had gone as far as aborting the child when she found out about James’ infidelities. He didn’t know this but would eventually find out.

Then would he hate her? Would his heart be broken? An evil, cruel smile crossed her face. It would serve him right for all the pain he caused. She wanted to see his heart broken, she wanted to see James in pain. He hadn’t cared enough about her so why should she care about him? You reap what you sow, another word of advice from her mother.

“Five minutes, Chrissie!” Came her mother’s call from outside the door.

Chrissie didn’t respond as she pulled the letter out of her purse and set it down on the table. She would love him always, but he would never love her in return. A tear trickled down her cheek as she absently smoothed her creamy white dress, her hand gliding over her previously pregnant belly. He would have never loved his child either.

Climbing out of the window, she maneuvered herself over to the tree branch which was not too far from the window. As she slid down the trunk of the tree, the bark ripped train of her wedding dress. There was a red car waiting for her. Her new lover, Sam sat in that car. “You ready babe?”

“Never been more ready in my whole entire life.”

“Vegas, here we come!”

Inside the bridal room, Chrissie’s mother banged on the door. “Chrissie, sweet heart we’re all…” her voice trailed off as she looked at the letter in the creamy white envelope. She opened it slowly, bit her lip, and ran downstairs to give James the letter.

Dearest James,
I have run away to be with the one whom I love so that you can be with the one you love. The last four years has been fun but I can’t marry you and you can’t marry me. To be honest, I don’t think I could live with myself, after having married you and knowing you would eventually go behind my back and cheat on me again.

Don’t bother asking for custody over our child. Our unborn baby is dead. I would rather have the baby killed then to have a father like you.

Love you always,

Soon to be Chrissie Montegomery

 

[Vail_Indigo]

Slithering

(posting again since I couldn't find the mindset for a rewrite)

Moni scrambled on all fours, unable to get to her feet. Her knees bled in the garbage of the alleyway, a trail of speckled red, a wounded animal. Finally she got her feet under her and was able to run as fast as her rapidly weakening body would let her. The sky glowed a horrible mottled orange.


Slitherthing smells and tastes and find.
Slitherthing wanting and feeding and playing.
Slitherthing sees.

She finds a niche, a place she feels safe, like she can stop and catch her breath and let herself hope that the creature following her will turn left instead of right. She lets herself hope that Vera is safe and home and that she'll see her again and not just the wisp of paper in her hand.

Redness and salt and Slithering hopes and hopes over glass behind and under and giggling and tongueness flicks and flutters.

Resting was a mistake. Her head begins to hurt, throb with memories and adrenaline and the metallic taste in her mouth makes her want to vomit the little bit of food she's been able to scrounge this week.
She doesn't believe she can run any more. But she hears it, and she runs.
She begs, to herself. To any god. To Vera. To…

Jagged scrapings of claws and skin slicing edges on leather and concrete and the glass on the ground embeds itself in her tummy and Slitherthing likes how it feels. Slitherthing will share.

And its over. Moni is just counting to herself. Just counting the moments and wondering what the magic number is. She kisses the scrap of paper that she's held through the horror. She apologizes to Vera. Again and again.

So still too still claw thing pierces scream and fight and YES not too still!


For a moment.
Then...

 

[PenIsMightier1]

The Touch

She opened her eyes.

She closed them again.

There was no difference between open and closed. Was she wearing some sort of blind fold, or was it just that dark? She opened her eyes again, hoping that she would suddenly see something.... Nothing.

She tried to rub her eyes, but found her arms were restrained, her legs too, spread-eagled with arms and legs stretched out. Whatever was restraining her was soft but unyielding, wrapped around her limbs like thick rope, but without the roughness, it was digging into her skin with the tightness that being tied up brought. She felt like she was just being held in the grip of giant hands.

“H-Hello? Please, is anyone there?”

No answer. What did that mean? Had she just been abandoned here, wherever she was? She hoped not. She hoped that whoever had done this to her was here, even if just watching her. If they were then they cared what happened to her, if they cared then maybe she was going to get out of here. At least she hoped so.

She waited; waited in the darkness for something, anything, to happen. Why was she here? Where was here? What was going to happen to her? How long had she been here?

As she waited, consumed by her own thoughts the smell of heather reached her. It was strong, and this brought her back, looking around for the origin of the sweet relaxing scent. The scent was then accompanied by the pale illumination of light; it started off soft, giving outline to the shapes in the room. As it grew lighter she saw that was not lying down as she had suspected by was being suspended, her feet just barely touching the floor.

The intensity of the light levelled off, not too bright although it extended only in a small circle, the edges of the light stopping sharply a few feet from her.

“Is someone there?”

Again, no answer.

Head turning to look at her bindings, perhaps she could figure a way out of them. Thick, deep green ropes, as thick as a child's arm, but completely smooth, and almost shiny in the light. She had never seen anything like it. Then she stopped. Staring at her bindings, they were moving as she moved, they moved to keep their hold and keep her comfortable. They were moving, they weren't ropes she realised, they were alive. Snakes? No, more like tentacles. Soft, smooth, slightly warm tentacles, holding her, binding her.

The smell of heather became stronger, poignant and relaxing as she inhaled the scent. She knew watching the tentacles holding her that she should be more worried now. This should be making her panic and worry, and yet, she wasn't. She watched them idly moving, thinking again how gentle their grip was, yet how firm it was.

She felt them now, new ones moving slowly up the insides of her thighs. The breath caught in her chest as they did, wondering what they were going to do. One stopped as it reached the tops of her legs, stroking and idly caressing the sensitive skin of the very tops of her thighs, feeling it rub over her lips. A soft moan escaped her lips as it did, she didn't want it to do anything, but just feeling that light brush made her feel on fire. Nothing had ever done that to her before, the fact that it was this probing tentacle doing it only increased the arousal instead of retarding it.

The others carried on up her body, inching their way up, gliding over her skin. Without hesitation or eagerness, just slowly moving up, curling around her midriff as they got into as much contact with her skin as possible. One eventually came to rest on one breast, curling around wrapping around it. Another slithered up between her breasts, squeezing between the valley of her soft flesh. The tendril moved up her throat and began to caress her cheek, like an elegant and gentle love. To her surprise she felt herself leaving into the stroking tentacle, nuzzling it, closing her eyes to enhance the feel of the softness.

“Please.” She whimpered, she felt she should resist what was happening, that she should rally against these invading probing tentacles, but she couldn't, she wanted more as he needs devolved from the touches, the heady scent of heather.

More tentacles joined the others, one starting on the small of her back, and tracing the curve of her spine until it reached the base of her skull and moving around until it had wrapped itself around her throat, tightening slightly and then releasing.

Her breath caught in her throat again, not out fear, but simply from wanting it to squeeze again, revelling in it's control. It did squeeze again, which only caused her to moan again, being overwhelmed by the feeling of all these tentacles, independently stroking and caressing her, finding new and sensitive places to touch .

Another. This sliding down between her cheeks, the tip of the tentacle, teasing and tickling her asshole, but not slipping inside, only teasing her, like every other tentacle, only building her up until she was lost. Her thoughts lost in the haze of arousal. No longer thinking why she was here, where she was or how this was happening. Only giving into the control of the tentacles.

The tentacle between her legs now changed direction, the tip rubbing up and down her slit until it was slick with her juices; She gave a loud moan, of pure need, she tried forcing her legs apart, to make it easier, but the tendrils wrapped around her legs and body held her steady. But the tentacle then pushed up, spreading the lips around her, sliding deep into her cunt. Another moan, guttural as its filled with pleasure as she felt it pushing in and out, unable to change the rhythm as she's held, having to just give into the teasing slowness of its movement.

“Please!”

She then gasped as she felt her ass being stretched as the tentacle mimicked the one in her soaked cunt, pushing deep into her, feeling stretched and filled by both flexible, smooth tendrils, wanting more, needing more.

“Please!” It was the only thing she could say now, pleading for more as her whole body was being touched and caressed, probed and filled. Moaning and pleading.

But always keeping her on the edge, what did they want? She needed to cum, but couldn't. Her pleasure addled brain tried to think through the haze, wanted to give them what they wanted.

“I'm yours! Please, I'm yours!”

The movement of the tentacles changed subtly, faster, the scent of heather became stronger still, sending her over the edge.

“Yours yours yours yours yours.” She whimpered between each moan, her body shaking as the orgasm hit hard. No longer noticing anything outside of the touch of these wonderful tentacles, slipping slowly into the embracing blackness once more.

She opened her eyes.

And there was light, the familiar light of her bedroom. She raised her head, moving unbound as she surveyed her ordinary room. She was alone. She felt a wave of sadness, had it just been a dream, had those touches just been in her mind?

Looking towards her bedside table she saw a note.

Love you, always -

She smiled as she was what the note was propped up against. Laying back down into the comfort of her bed, thinking of when she would have them wrapped around her again. Sighing happily as she closed her eyes, waiting.

Behind the note, propping it up, was a sprig of heather.

 

[Britwitch]

Yours Always​

Gemma’s brow creased into a frown of confusion. As she turned into the driveway instead of seeing the sweeping drive leading up to their house, the generous and lovingly tendered garden out front, her gaze was met by a mass of flashing blue lights, red fire engines and the smouldering skeleton of what once had been a house. Smoke spiralling lazily towards the sky from blackened timbers and piles of unrecognisable charred objects surrounded by ash. The confusion swelled as she mindlessly shut off the engine and sat there staring, holding the steering wheel with whitened knuckles.

Then it was panic that tore through her veins, blinding and all consuming.

“Michael…” She murmured, fumbling with her seat belt. “Michael!” The words became a desperate cry as Gemma all but fell out of the driver’s door. Feet scrambling to find grip on the tarmac and propel her towards the chaotic scene before her. “Michael!” Gemma screamed again, pushing through the mass of fluorescent jacketed fire fighters milling about in their driveway.

“Miss…Miss! You can’t go through there…!” A hand reached out towards her shoulder but she yanked herself free and continued onwards.

“Michael?!” Gemma called again and again, staring with disbelief at the horrific scene before her. Beside the soot stained shell was the equally ruined carcass of a car, crushed beneath fallen timbers from the now non-existent roof. Her knees buckled and she fell down onto the grass. Chest tightening as the realisation smashed into her that if his car was there then, somewhere, so was he.

A strong arm blocked her path as she stumbled uncontrollably towards the remains of her house.

“Miss, you can’t go in there! It’s dangerous.”

“But Michael…my Michael…he might…”

“I’m sorry, Miss but I can’t let you. It’s too soon to be able to get inside but…but if anyone had been in there…well…” The voice faltered and Gemma felt her legs refuse to go along with her wishes and she slid down the front of the fire fighter and landed heavily on the grass. “It’s too soon…” The voice repeated although it sounded as though it came from a long way away.

“No, no, no…” The words repeated themselves over and over again as hot tears fell down her cheeks.
It was too soon. Far too soon to be saying goodbye. Somewhere she was aware of the fire fighter moving away.

They had plans, so many plans, for their future. Trips they planned to take, places they still had to show one another. Her heart ached as the thought struck home that she would never get to show him those secret special places she had always intended to. The cottage she had visited with her family up in the Scottish mountains, the natural ring of stones up on the moors that she had scrambled across with her brothers and had one day hoped to do with her own children, with their children.

Another stab to her heart as she realised everything they had already shared, all of their memories, would have gone up in smoke. Photos, ticket stubs, letters and cards. Even the note she’d left that morning before heading out.

Sorry darling, I hate it when we fight but I love it when we make up. See you tonight.
You know I love you,
Yours always
xXx​

The fight had been stupid, blown out of all proportion, now she could barely remember what had started it. He’d stormed out and she’d been left fuming and alone in the kitchen. Soon enough she’d calmed down and scribbled down the note. Leaving it next to the vase of lavender she’d cut in the garden the day before.

“I…we…I didn’t say goodbye…” Gemma turned tear bright blue eyes up towards the fire fighter standing awkwardly beside her. “I didn’t…I didn’t say half the things I wanted…”

“Gem…” The phantom voice carried on the breeze. A smile curved her lips as a thousand memories assailed her senses. Hearing her name called, whispered, groaned, cried, all by him; hearing her name spoken in times of joy and times of despair. Fresh tears seeped onto her cheeks as she hugged her knees up to her chest. “Gem…” Gemma closed her eyes, the smile lingering.

“Michael…my Michael…” She murmured before a fresh frown decorated her forehead. The phantom voice was growing louder. “Michael…?” Her eyes opened and she began to shake as she scanned the chaos all around her. It was just her imagination, her heart, taunting her. She was certain, almost certain.

Unsteadily she rose to her feet and turned around slowly. Then she heard it again. Louder, the voice carrying across the noise that surrounded her.

“Gemma!”

Then he was there. Broad shouldered and tall, running towards her. A bouquet of flowers tumbled to the ground as his long legs ate up the distance between them and within seconds she was enveloped in his embrace.

“What the hell happened? Are you ok babe?” Lips pressed against her forehead and Gemma thought for a moment she may well pass out such was the rush of relief flooding through her body.

“I came home and I thought, I mean, your car was there and I thought you were inside…” Gemma sobbed happily into his clothes. Her arms snaking up to cling around his neck.

“I was, at least, I came home and saw your note and I’d gone to buy you flowers…I was an idiot…” His voice was muffled by her shoulder but she refused to let go. “I felt so bad about the things I said this morning, I didn’t mean them, I didn’t mean any of it…”

“It doesn’t matter…none of that matters,” She whispered desperately against his ear, fingers curling ever tighter into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh I love you, I love you so much more than I ever realised.”

“I wanted to make it up to you and I’d put wine in the fridge to chill, I’d lit candles and…” His voice trailed off as they pulled back enough to let their eyes meet. Then they laughed. In spite of everything all they could do was laugh.

In amongst the destruction they knew that while they had lost so much, they had the one thing they really needed. Their laughter turned into kisses and the world faded away. Somewhere on the wind a half burnt scrap of paper fluttered away from the scene bearing the words Gemma and Michael would whisper to each other every day for the rest of their lives.

Love you. Yours always.

 

[zydrate]

Free!

Jennifer screamed.

It wasn't a scream of terror, no... it was a scream of pleasure!

She was free of Daniel! Fucking FREE!!!

She picked up another armful of his clothes and tossed it in the fire and she let out a sadistic laugh, a completely un-Jennifer like laugh, as she watched the clothing start to smolder...then slowly catch fire.

Turning from the almost raging fire, she picked up a box of letters and special little things Daniel had given her over the year. Jennifer yelled out again, "GOODBYE DANIEL, you liar!!" With that, Jennifer dumped the contents of the box into the fire and threw the empty box aside.

Again, she watched the letters start to singe until they were completely on fire. The wind picked up, causing the smoke from the fire to change directions.

Jennifer blew a small kiss toward the fire and turned away. Finally, she was free from all his lies, all his false promises...

It was more than a few hours before the fire died down to a smoldering rubble of nothing... Well, almost nothing... If one looked closely, they could see the remains of a hand, a human hand, holding onto a smoking piece of rope with a note barely readable...

Love you
XXX,
Yours Always​

 

[Britwitch]

Challenge Closed

Thanks to all who participated so wonderfully


The latest open challenge can be found here!​