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Monday, January 31, 2011

Until next time, AJ Silent Voice

Sadly, AJ Silent Voice has found her new year a bit too jam-packed for weekly submissions. She is hoping to rejoin us in the summer though. So this isn't goodbye, just until next time! Thank you for all your contributions so far, AJ!

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Destynee Week 36: Trainer

Destiny Cullen
Sunday



Picture 1

Picture 2


Destiny Cullen’s Choice: Picture 2


Title:
Trainer

“Please, please I’m so sorry, just don’t let me die!” Derrick yelled from the rooftop holding on for his life.

“You brought this upon yourself. You could of saved your life but chose to sleep around.” Her voice was deathly clam as she looked down at Derrick struggling to get back on the roof. The fear in his eyes made her smile as she walked closer to the edge to get a good look into his beautiful horrified face.

“Please,” he sobbed as he failed to pull his body over the ledge. “I’m sorry Shawna, I shouldn’t have.”

A cruel sound came out of her mouth. “You should of thought of that before you-” Suddenly Derrick’s yell sounded in the air as he fell off the roof. Shawna gasped as she looked down and saw him hit the safety net and she released the breath she was holding.

“Cut!” The director yelled as a bell went off. He threw down the script and stalked over to the safety net.

“What the hell, Roberts? You were supposed to hold on until she was done with her line. You fall prematurely one more time and you are out of Hollywood for good you hear me? For good!”

Derrick sighed and nodded in response. It didn’t matter to the director that he had been holding on to that ledge for over four hours, just that the fat cat wouldn’t get his ‘perfect shot’. He was new to Hollywood and all their expectations, but he was learning quickly. He rolled off of the net and walked over to his co-stars trailer.

“Hey Shawna, you in here?”

“Derrick I told you to call me Cassie. I’m only Shawna in the script.” Her voice sounded irritated and he was rethinking his apology when she set her death glare on him.

“You’re a really cute kid. You could be the new star, the new Brad Pitt, but you need to stop messing up the scenes. Maybe consider working with a personal trainer some more to work on your endurance? You need to get back on Cameron’s good side and fast. If the rumors are true about James, you’d better be ready by next week’s shoot or else you’ll be out of work and no one will hire you in the United States. You’d be lucky if Canada would risk hiring you even for modeling.”

Derrick sighed not wanting to think about not having a job. He already knew what it was like to go without food for a week or two and not have a stable house to live in. This was supposed to bring home the bacon so to speak, but he’d really put his foot in it this time.

“Thanks, Cassie. See you next week.” She mumbled her goodbyes and Derrick was off to find a personal trainer that would train him in less than a week and wouldn’t have rates charging thousands per hour.

Once he got into his beat down apartment, he pulled out his outdated laptop and looked up personal trainers in the Hollywood area with cheap rates. He spent hours looking through the listings for an accredited trainer as well as one that had the same concept of cheap as he did. After four hours of searching, he found Kay’s Gym who’s rates were perfect.

Twenty minutes later, he reached Kay’s Gym. It wasn’t in exactly the best part of town, but it was what he had to work with. He looked up at the decrepit building and wondered if the building was even in business anymore. His question was answered when a group of people came out laughing and joking with each other. He sighed and walked inside looking for Kay, he’d get him into shape and fast. It was his online guarantee.

If I can’t get you into the shape you want in a week then your money back and you can have the deed to my business.

Of course, the fine print said that the shape you are hoping to attain has to be realistic. Derrick wasn’t worried about that since he was already in adequate shape, he just needed to train to keep up his endurance for gruesome scenes like he did today. He walked up to the desk and asked for Kay. The person there directed him to go to the office in the back of the gym.

He knocked on the door, but there wasn’t any answer. He sighed and walked back to the desk at the front. “Are you sure Kay is in? I knocked but no one answered.” The worker popped her gum and stuck her tongue out seductively to check if any gum was on her lips.

“I’m sure Kay isn’t busy right now. You can just walk in.” She arched her back so Derrick could notice her breasts almost popping out of her shirt. “If Kay is busy, I can help you waste time while Kay gets things settled.”

Derrick plastered on the fake smile he used on camera and chuckled. “Thanks for your help.” As he turned away all he could do was pray that Kay was in. Otherwise, he would have to find another way out of here. He reached the office and turned the knob, walking in slowly and looking for the trainer.

“Hello?” His voice rang in the silence, and he began to lose hope in finding Kay and start searching out an emergency exit when he spotted a woman sitting at the desk in the corner doing paperwork with her iPod on. Derrick cleared his throat and tried to get the woman’s attention. “Excuse me? Ma’am?” He walked closer to the desk and she jumped up surprise, levelling a shotgun at his chest.

“Whoa,” he said putting his hands up. “I just came here to talk to Kay. I needed to talk to him about being my personal trainer.” She glared at me as she pulled the buds from her ears, but didn’t lower the gun from its current target.

“You said you want to talk to him?” She said with a hard tone.

“Um, yes?” He couldn’t really think straight with the gun aimed at him. “You mind putting that down and telling me where he is?”

She scoffed and lowered the shotgun down and put it beside her. “She is right here.” Oh crap.

“Kay, as in Kay’s Gym.” “Kachine, Kay for short.” She narrowed her eyes. He wasn’t getting off to a good start. He wracked his brain for anything. “I’m sorry I assumed-”

“What do you want? I assume you came in here for a reason.”

“I actually came here to ask you to be my trainer. I’m working on a movie right now and I need to work on a few things or else there goes my job, and career.” He said looking into her sparkling hazel eyes.

“What exactly are you looking for? More muscle build?
Endurance?” She said with a snicker.

“Actually, yes, I need help with endurance. I had to hang on the side of a building for almost four hours and I almost got canned for falling on the last scene today.”

She took a deep breath and looked down at her schedule and relaxed her stance. “I can train you from two till eight o’clock at night. If that doesn’t fit in your calendar than you have to find a new trainer.” Derrick nodded and reached his hand over to the desk waiting for her to take it but she just stared at it.

“You’re not going to want to be too friendly, I’m going to work you until you want to quit.” Instead of dropping his hand he ran it through his hair nervous.

“Well, thanks.” She just nodded and went back to her paper work on the desk. “Your training starts tomorrow. Don’t be late.” She said before he closed the door.

Twelve hours and a few stretches later, he was out the door and on his way to the gym. His shoulders killed him from yesterday, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Knowing how he left things with Kachine yesterday, she wouldn’t take pity on him today. She’d probably take joy in making him suffer.

He pushed through the doors and saw Kachine dancing in the ring against a man three times bigger than her. His eyes bugged and he ran toward the ring as the man took a swing at her. To his surprise, she dodged his blow and landed two quick jabs to his kidneys. He fell like a sack of potatoes.

“Thanks for that work out, Doug. See you tomorrow at noon.” She smiled as she helped him up. He was awestruck by her image in the ring. Her perfectly tan body only few were blessed had a light sheen of sweat as she shook out her long black hair out of a ponytail just to put it back into a tighter one. Her beautiful face had the features of an Indian princess and he was consumed by her until she broke him out of the trance.

“Are you ready, newbie?” She had a challenging smirk on her face.

He smirked back at her rolling his arms to loosen them up. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She chuckled and waved him into the ring. “Basic moves today, you don’t get gloves until tomorrow, and then only if you’re ready for the fun stuff.” He nodded ready to work when she started circling him.

“Do ten laps around the outside of the gym then meet me back here.” She jumped out of the ring and headed to her office. She turned to look over her shoulder and sent me a dark look as I jumped off to start my laps. When I was finished, she was waiting in the middle of the ring with a water bottle and a punching bag.

“Here. Drink this and loosen up on this punching bag. I have to make sure you already have the muscle development to go straight to your endurance training.” Derrick nodded as he gulped most of the water down.

“One, two punch. I want to see how your frame is.” He smirked knowing this was his best area. He trained in his basement back home since he was thirteen. At sixteen he already had a six pack and the girls loved it when he would go swimming.

“Are you going easy on me, Kachine?” He laughed as he punched the bag in a steady rhythm.

“Care for something harder?” She asked innocently. He looked over his shoulder at her but that sudden shift in focus cost him dearly. As his left arm aimed for the bag, it slipped and caused his shoulder to get pulled and instant pain radiated up his arm.

“Shit!” Derrick yelled grabbing his shoulder. Kachine ran to his side and pressed her fingers lightly to his back. “You need to come to my office. I will have massage it or you wont be able to use at all in the next six months.” She ran to her office to get the supplies ready. When he walked inside, she had a massage table set up.

“Wow, you really are prepared,” he murmured.

“I was a massage therapist before I became a personal trainer, so I know my stuff.” She smiled then looked at the table. “You need to take off your shirt and lay face down on the table so I can work my magic.”

“Magic hands, eh?” He laughed at he saw a light blush swept across her face.

“Just shut up and lay down.” He did as he was told. To say she had magic hands was the understatement of the year. Once her hands touched his shoulder, all he felt was pleasure. He could feel his muscles relaxing and the shoulder pain eased dramatically.

Derrick suddenly woke up when he heard Kachine’s voice from outside the office. He must of dozed off. He was starting to rise when he heard his name come out of Kachine’s mouth.

“What do you mean you are going to train him? I heard he was blacklisted by Mr. Cameron.”

“You choose your customers and I will choose mine. James Cameron has no say in who I train. Besides, he gave Derrick another chance for the shoot next week,” she said with a defensive tone.

“He only gave him a second chance to prove to Hollywood that they can’t hire a fuck up like him. He is saying that he is going to have him on a nine hour shoot, basically hanging from a beam. You can’t train him for that in only six days. You’re going to risk your gym on this? Your whole life on one kid? Please think about what you are doing before you destroy your life along with his.”

Derrick couldn’t hear anymore as they headed for the front entrance. He sighed and put on his shirt, he didn’t need to drag her into this mess. Before he got his shirt on, Kachine walked back in smiling. “So sleepyhead is awake.”

Derrick couldn’t muster a smile. “You don’t have to train me. I don’t want you to lose everything for me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You heard me talking out there.” He nodded even though it wasn’t a question. “Well you should know that you’re getting twenty more laps tomorrow morning. And you should also know that I’m changing your hours to nine to six, and if I feel like it nine to nine. We got some work to do.” With that she walked out leaving him with hope.

Those six days were the hardest he has ever faced. Kachine pushed him to the brink each day, but at the end of each session he’d get a killer massage and feel even better in the morning after his rest. During the sessions, Kachine was warming up to him; last night he even had the courage to kiss her. Of course, she just smirked and told him to get a good rest because he had a long day ahead of him.

Now that he was on set with Cassie and the dickface director, he was missing Kachine. He hoped she would find the note he left in the cabinet where she left her shotgun, as well as the one he left on the punching bags, massage table, and on her office door. She was bound to see one right?

The starting bell rang and he was on top of the roof hanging on for his career as well as for the thick paycheck awaiting for him. Once he got to cash it, he’d take Kachine to dinner and maybe a movie. His mind was lost most of the day, his body not even registering the strain after seven hours.

The last bell rang for the day, and he brought himself up to the roof. “Wow, you really did it, Roberts. You really did it. I guess you really are going to be the next Brad Pitt.” Cassie hugged him and headed down. All Derrick could do was look off into the setting sun and wish Kachine was here to see his success. It was all because of her.

“I personally think you’d be more of a Kellan Lutz, maybe a Ryan Reynolds.” He smirked as he turned and found her there looking up at him. “You did it. Does that mean I won’t be seeing your cocky ass at my gym anymore?”

Derrick closed the space between them and lifted his hand to cup her delicate face. “You’re going to see me a lot more. More than you’d like.” He pressed his lips against her silky ones and got lost in the feel of her.

They would of kissed all night up there if he wasn’t interrupted by his agent clearing his throat.

“I hope there is a good reason that guy is intruding on my kissing time with you.”

Derrick chuckled and looked at his agent. “What is up, Charles?”

“You’ve just been offered sixteen titles and many more photo shoots. I needed to congratulate you as well as get your approval on them.”

“I’ll get back to you tomorrow. I need to go train with my personal trainer for a few hours.” He smirked down at Kachine and knew she agreed with what he had planned.

“I didn’t bring my oils for the after massage.” She saw desire light in his eyes and he leaned down into her ear.

“Don’t worry, I have some oils at my house, but you won’t be using them tonight. I’ll be using them on you.” He whispered as lifted her up into his arms and from there he would take her to his house where they wouldn’t leave for many pleasurable hours.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

SnappleApple450 Week 35 (cont?): Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants You (Part 3 complete)

SnappleApple 450
Saturday



Picture 1

Picture 2


SnappleApple 450's Choice: both

Title:
Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants you? (Part 3)

Moderator's note - somehow Snapple Apple 450's post got cut in half. Here is the whole piece in place of a Week 36

I had a dream I was walking through the snow in Alaska, looking for a way out. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, maybe a door or portal. After all it was a dream, anything’s possible. As I was walking I saw something in the snow. It looked familiar so I started running for it. When I came up to it, I saw it was a taco. Why in the hell was there a taco in my dream? What could a taco be doing in the middle of Alaska? It was something I’d find back in a city, but definitely not out here. It didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t want to be here. Anger boiled into my veins as I stepped on the taco, waking up from the dream.

The next morning Bianca could smell breakfast cooking. Slowly she got out of bed and grabbed her robe. She heard talking in the other room and followed it to the kitchen.

“Oh good morning Bianca!” Mrs. Bowers chirped.

Bianca flinched at the noise. “Would you like some breakfast? We have bacon, sausage, muffins, eggs, and orange juice.”

“She’s a hippy, mom, she doesn’t eat meat.”

“I’m not a hippy,” Bianca hissed at Christopher.

He smirked biting into some bacon. “You’re dirty, don’t eat meat, and do drugs.”

“Sounds like a hippy to me,” Corky laughed.

She glared, grabbing a muffin and sitting down. “Well dear, enjoy your muffin,” Mrs. Bowers smiled.

“Twenty dollars says she’ll be eating meat by the time she leaves,” Corky grinned, biting into the crunchy bacon.

Bianca ignored them all, peeling off the muffin wrapper.

“So what do you and Chris have planned for this beautiful day?” Mr. Bowers asked.

Bianca choked on her muffin. “Excuse me?”

Chris would have found it slightly humorous if he didn’t have the same reaction when they first told him. “Yes Bianca, I hate it as much as you, but the fact is we’re stuck together so just deal with it.”

She glared at him. “I’m not feeling well today, Mrs. Bowers,” she gave a pained look. “Feminine reasons…you know.”

Mrs. Bowers was sympathetic immediately. “Oh I know how that is, but I know a remedy that works for me. Elk urine.”

Chris started to laugh, covering his mouth. Bianca’s face twisted from fake pain to real disgust.
Mrs. Bowers nodded matter-of-factly. “Yes ma’am I just mix it into some tea to mask the flavor and within minutes my cramps are gone!”

“I would hate to be you, Bianca Stratford.” Chris was still laughing.

Bianca shook her head. “I’d really like to just sleep and tea isn’t my thing. I’m more of a Starbuck’s person myself.”

“What’s that?” Corky asked.

Bianca covered her face. “I don’t believe it. This is all a dream.”

Chris got up and walked around the table, leaning down to her ear. “Rise and shine sweetheart, you’re here for two months.” He walked away, leaving her angry.

She wanted to hit something and acting on impulse, she chucked her muffin at his retreating figure. “Asshole!” She stormed off to the bathroom to shower.

They didn’t have a shower; they had a bathtub. She groaned and stripped off her clothes as she ran the bath. They had placed her toiletries on the floor by the sink. Mrs. Bowers had a line of different bubble bath soaps. Bianca poured in the lavender scented and watched the bubbles form.

Once the tub was filled, she stepped into the water and sank in with a moan. She twisted her hair up and clipped it into place above the nape of her neck, leaning back as she closed the curtain around the tub. You’d think a pampered heiress would take baths frequently, but she preferred her stand up shower; complete with a seat and detachable shower-head for when she wanted to have fun. A bath was a nice change though. She closed her eyes and sunk lower. If she could live out the two months doing this, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Suddenly she heard the bathroom door swing open and someone walk in. They weren’t aware of her being in the bath. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t anyone knock?! She wasn’t used to sharing a bathroom. A few seconds passed and they pulled the curtain out of the way. Chris was standing there fully nude with a towel draped over his arm.

Bianca screamed, trying to hide herself under the bubbles. He quickly wrapped the towel around himself. “Bianca, what the hell are you doing?”

She grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her frame as she stood up. “Excuse me? I was here first! Ever heard of knocking?”

“Not in my house! You could have warned me!”

They were both face to face, each with nothing but a towel on. Bianca looked at his parted lips, his breathing harsh with anger. She bit her lower lip wanting to kiss him, wanting to pull his towel away and pull him into the tub with her.

His anger melted away, leaving his eyes; he found the humor in the situation. “Why aren’t you saying anything? I know you’ve had to have seen naked guys before.”

Once again, she acted on impulse. Pressing her lips to his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands went to her waist and she thought he was going to push her away, but he pulled her closer. She deepened the kiss, her wet soapy hands moved to chest as she made her way down to his towel.

He chuckled, grabbing her hand. “You New Yorkers are quick to jump.”

She smiled coyly. “That’s my secret to life. Impulse is everything. Like Nike says: just do it.”

He nodded. “And it was impulse that got you here in the first place. Start thinking about your actions, Bee.” He grabbed his clothes and went to leave.

“You kissed me back,” she said, playing with the edge of her towel.

He had his hand on the door and smiled. “I did nothing of the sort, Bee.”

She glared at him as he left. Jerk was going to deny kissing her? It was probably his first kiss. She smirked, getting out of the tub and drying off. He was a damn good kisser…

“So what am I supposed to do for fun?” Bianca groaned, realizing they had no internet and they only had a local hunting show on tv. Chris threw a book at her and she shrieked. “Ew what is it?”

Corky laughed from the floor where he was playing with the dog. “It’s a book silly!”

“Scarlet Letter, it’s a classic.”

“I didn’t think people read these outside of school where it was a requirement.”

“We’re homeschooled. Well I am. Chris just graduated.” Corky felt like telling about his life.

“Yup, going to college this fall.”

“Where are you going?” Bianca would rather talk than read a book.

“California.”

“Huh me too,” Bianca said sarcastically.

“I’m going to college to learn. You’re going—“

“To party. Always going to party,” she winked. “So you guys read all day?”

Chris nodded. “That’s what I do. Sometimes when we’re really bored, we’ll go do this crazy thing, but you’re not up for it,” he taunted.

She glared. “Let’s do it.”

Chris stood up with Corky. “Go get your bathing suit on.” Corky raced off.

Bianca raised her eyebrow. “But it’s snowing outside.”

“Just put your snow boots and bathing suit on.” Chris went to his bedroom and she waited for him to get out. She didn’t pack a swimsuit, considering she was in Alaska. Oh well, what’s the difference between a bikini and a bra? Once Chris was done she went in and stripped off her clothes, exposing her matching red bra and boyshorts. She pulled on some black furry boots.
Corky’s eyes bulged, but Chris just shrugged his coat on, opening the door. “That doesn’t look like a swimsuit.”

“I didn’t bring one but this works too.” She pulled her coat on and followed them outside. “Shit, it’s cold!” Instant goosebumps trailed down her legs.

“Come on we have a sweat lodge a way down here.” They trudged through the snow to a room. Chris had already prepared it while she was getting dressed. It had a frosted door that Chris opened. “Quick get in. We need to raise the temperature.”

Bianca took a seat and took off her coat. Chris locked the door and sat down. “So what do we do now?”

“We sit.” Chris leaned back and closed his eyes.


After half an hour passed, Bianca was sweating. Her perfectly tanned body was shiny with sweat. She moaned, holding her hair off her neck. “I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
Chris checked the thermostat and grinned. “Okay you ready? It’s 109 degrees in here. Get ready to run.”

Corky and Bianca stood up by the door as he unlocked it. “Ready, set…GO!!!” He threw the door open and booked it.

Bianca squealed with the cold air hit her. She didn’t know where Corky and Chris were going, she just followed. Corky slid around a turn and chased after Chris. He stood by a pole out of breath, reading a thermostat.

Bianca leaned against Corky, breathing deeply. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

Chris cheered. “New record for the summer!” He and Corky danced around cheering.

Bianca gave a blank stare, still catching her breath. “This is the game? See how much of a temperature difference you can get?”

Chris stopped dancing and stared at her. “Yeah!”

Her face grew cold with anger. “I’m going inside. You guys are messed up.” She stormed off towards the house.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Burntcore Week 36: The Road Not Taken

Burntcore
Thursday


Picture 1

Picture 2


Burntcore's Choice: Picture 1


Title:
The Road Not Taken

I walked along the street, caught up in my thoughts and emotions as I tried to process what was going on. The opportunities were incredible. I was extremely lucky to even have these options to pick from. Some would call me selfish for being so indecisive, but how do you decide? When both seem so equally matched, what tips the scales?

If I were to just pick one, what if I picked wrong? What if I made the wrong choice? Was there such a thing as a wrong choice? Was there a right one?

My head started to hurt as I over-analyzed everything.

Frustrated, I sat down on a park bench near a stone sculpture with a small waterfall in it. I had walked past this city street countless times in my life and never really paid attention to it. It was quite pretty. There was stone and tile done in three different levels, built into the side of the hill. On top was a phrase inscribed in the stone. This again was something I had looked over in my daily rush to go to whatever thing was more important than looking around and slowing down.

“TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE”

I recognized the phrase from Hamlet, a play that I had read and reread many times for school. Such a simple phrase but wrought with so much meaning.

What did it mean to be true to myself? Should I follow my parents’ desires for the direction my life should go next or should I blaze my own trail? Was I strong enough? Would my parents be disappointed if I chose the other option? They said all they wanted was for me to be happy. Which of these would make me happy? Would one only provide a momentary happiness while the other provided lifelong fulfillment?

I know he wanted to help me make this decision, but this was something that I needed to make on my own.

The direction I knew my parents wanted me to take was safe and known. It would be comfortable and easy. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. Did I want safe?

The other choice? It was fraught with the unknown, with the scary, with the uneasy, and doubt.

At first glance, it seemed like an easy decision: go with the comfortable and easy! But wait, would I not stagnate in such a place? Would my heart and my dreams be stifled in a place where there was nothing to spur me on to improve?

I looked at the phrase in the sculpture again.

“TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE”

In that moment, it felt like Polonius was speaking directly to me. In my mind, I saw the doomed counselor standing before me, his face earnest and forthright as he now counseled me in my dilemma.

”This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!” 1


It was like Polonius had brought forth the sun to my face and cleared the confusion of my mind. The indecision was gone. I felt silly now, thinking so much into this like there was really a decision to be made when the answer was now glaringly obvious.

My heart called for the one place where I knew I could grow and learn and expand, where I may not always know what was going to happen the next day, but I could guarantee that it was my choice. Not every day would be good or easy, but I would exist in each and every day. I would not coast on what I knew or experienced already. I would try new things, eat new foods, and listen to new music. Each day that I didn’t try something new would be a wasted day. I would make the most of each and every experience, both good and bad. There may be easy days ahead, but there would be hard days.... those days I would grow the most.

I stood up, full of renewed resolve, and started walking back towards home. This time, I took the time to look around and enjoy the life around me. I even took a different way home than I normally did. It felt like the first step in accepting my decision for my future.

As I turned a corner on the street, I happened to look in the window of a store as I passed. It was a small, independent bookstore, yet again another example of something I never noticed. In the window was a selection of poetry books, the first one I laid eyes on was a compilation of Robert Frost poems. I smiled as I continued on my journey, the infamous words of Robert Frost hovering to the surface of my mind as my life took a path as he did, to the road less traveled.

“TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.” 2


I laughed as I walked, feeling lighter and happier than I had in a long time.

The one less traveled by, indeed. Well said, Mr. Frost.



1 – Shakespeare - Hamlet – Hamlet Act 1, scene 3 - Polonios to Laertes

2 – Robert Frost – Mountain Interval – “The Road Not Taken”

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Kimmydonn Week 36: Happily Ever After

Kimmydon
Wednesday



Picture 1

Picture 2


Kimmydon's Choice: both


Title:
Happily Ever After

I wasn’t sure I belonged here. Peter and Gary were watching the improv group do their weekly show, and I was at my old apartment, Jamie’s place. I was barely starting to show, but the morning sickness seemed to be easing up, thank God. Still, just sitting here made me a bit queasy.

“So,” I asked, having no idea what to say.

“So,” Jamie said, looking at me across the table. “How are you?” She smiled, seeming without a care in the world.

“How do I look?” I asked, sitting back in my chair.

“Radiant. God, you pregnant women annoy me.” Her expression soured, and she slouched onto the table, arms crossed.

I started. “Women?”

She laughed. “Not Mary! Haha! No! Just a girl at work, Leanne. She’s glowing like you.”

I let out a small sigh of relief. I had no idea what was state their relationship was in, but I knew, at any moment, either Mary or Brian was likely to come through the door.

“They aren’t coming over,” Jamie said, not meeting my eye. She spun her mug on the table, empty of tea. I’d long since stopped being surprised when she knew what I was thinking.

“No?” I asked, surprised. “You ask them to stay home tonight?”

She glared at me suddenly, angry. It was my turn to know what she was thinking. “I don’t assume they stay here. I don’t think you spend every night with one or both of them. Don’t look at me like that.”

She grinned. “Right, sorry.” She sighed and looked into her empty mug. “More tea?” she asked, rising to start the kettle.

“I’m good. Are you?” I asked, not meaning tea, of course.

“Bet, I don’t know what to do.” I could hear the strain in her voice. “It wasn’t until you... and Peter...” She was searching for words, something she usually had as little trouble with as me. “When you weren’t with us, I realized how good we were together, you know?” She leaned her back on the counter looking at me. “I mean, you have been such a good friend, but I knew you weren’t mine, not really.”

I smiled at her. “Not more than, you know, a blood sister.”

She laughed now. “Yeah. Remember your mom’s reaction when we came back to the cabin?”

I grimaced. It wasn’t easy to forget. We’d gone on an extra long walk, but that part had been cleared. They knew we’d packed a lunch and were going around the far side of the lake where there was an actual beach instead of just reeds and docks. It was rocky, but secluded. The beach area was very small, only a few hundred yards long. Just enough for us. We sat, we talked, we ate sandwiches, and we cut open our palms with my pocket knife and gripped each other’s hands, swearing to be friends forever.

The cut hadn’t really hurt at all, barely a sting, but once open, it started to burn. Jamie’s didn’t stop bleeding quickly either. We’d both put our hands in the water, but hers just kept bleeding. Eventually, she pulled off her sock and wrapped it for the walk back, but by then we both looked like we’d been to some sort of accident scene, with light streaks of blood, diluted with lake water, all over our pants and shirts. Mom had flipped her lid. She’d known off the bat it was me and my knife at fault. Blood makes Mom queasy, and she’d turned green while shrieking at the top of her lungs. Eventually Dad came and took Jamie for stitches; her parents and brothers were out on the lake.

She was fingering the pink line on her palm now. “I still can’t believe I cut so deep.”

“Me either. It was supposed to be a couple drops,” I teased her.

She started to tear up again. “A couple of drops,” she said. I was at a loss, having no idea what she was thinking this time. “I’m drowning in a couple of drops. It feels like I’m barely keeping my head above water.” She turned to the kettle again.

I stood up and hugged her from behind. “I know it’s bad, Jam, but it’ll work out. You know that, right?”

She shook her head, not trying to throw off my embrace. “I can’t see it, Bet. We can’t be happy, not all three of us.”

I leaned my cheek on the top of her head, looking into the red notes among the straw colored strands. “Is it my fault?” I asked.

“No,” she said, chuckling. “Well, maybe. If you’d been honest with Peter a little sooner, I wouldn’t have tried to get together with Brian.” She sighed. “I don’t know that that would have been better.” We both looked at the empty tea cup next to the pot.

“I wish I had an answer for you, Jam. How are they doing?”

She shrugged, throwing off my hug at last. “They’re getting along.” She suddenly blushed. “They’re getting along better than I expected.” Her smile was sly now. “Don’t tell them I told you.”

I laughed. “Mary won’t be surprised, and why would I tell Brian?”

She nodded, adding hot water to the teapot. “Why can’t my life be simple, like yours.”

I rolled my eyes. “My relationship isn’t that simple. I have a dead sister haunting the house. Okay not really, but Peter is still carrying her around. My husband...” It was my turn to blush. “has some difficult needs.”

Jamie raised her brows. “Do tell.”

“As if,” I said swatting her. “Or are you going to tell me about Mary in your bedroom?” I looked at her sideways.

“I could. I could tell you how soft she feels, how warm. How her breasts are smaller than mine, but fit my hands better...” She smirked, sure she was making me uncomfortable. She was, a little, but only because she was talking about Mary. If she’d been telling me about her coworker, Leanne, it would be different, but I knew Mary. I shook the images from my mind and Jamie snickered.

“Fine,” I said flatly, fighting fire with fire. “I have a new toy for Peter. The flogger was too long, not flicking enough, so I have a new cane.” I reached into the reusable bag at my feet to pull out the thin stem.

Jamie choked on her tea. “Special needs all right,” she said, laughing. “Why isn’t this in the fairy tales?” she asked cracking the cane on her scar-free palm.

“Here’s where we prove their fairy tales wrong. We find happily ever afters that aren’t in the story books.” Reaching across the table, I squeezed her hand.

“Happy. Ever after. I’d like that.”

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Destynee Week 35: My Muse

Destiny Cullen
Sunday



Picture 1

Picture 2


Destiny Cullen’s Choice: Both


Title:
My Muse

“What is that?” Jaxon said bored.

“What does it look like?” Jenn said as she waved the flier for Shiek.net photography and design in his line of sight. “Jaxon you need to stop being a lazy bum and get back to taking pictures again!”

Jaxon groaned not wanting to get into this fight again. “Jenn you know why I don’t take pictures anymore. End of story.” She placed her hands on her hips and he knew he was in for one of her rants again. Jenn has been his friend since second grade but sometimes she didn’t know when to leave things alone.

“Just because Darl-” Jaxon covered her mouth with his hand. “Don’t say her name, Jennifer.
She narrowed her eyes at the use of her full name. He smirked down at her with satisfaction.
She murmured something against his hand but he couldn’t understand it. “What is that you said, Jennifer?” She glared at him and licked the inside of his palm and he released her at once.

“I said call me Jennifer one more time and I’ll bite your hand off.” He scoffed wiping his hand on her shirt. “More like lick my hand off.”

“Jaxon,” she said getting serious again. “Just because Darla burned down your studio doesn’t mean you stop doing what you love. One psycho ex can’t run your life forever, Jaxon. You’re going to have to learn that sooner or later.” Jenn sighed and left the flier on the table.

“And just so you know,” she said as she was halfway through the front door. “If you don’t call the number on the back of the flier in three days, I will.” With that ominous note she left with a small click of the door.

Jaxon ran his hand through is thick hair wondering if he should take her advice or just throw the damn thing away. Why build something up when it is so easily destroyed?

With a sigh he looked away from the offensive flier of a man holding a camera ready to take photos. It shouldn’t be offensive, but he could see himself in that picture. He was so eager and happy when it came to take pictures. Jaxon shook his head and decided that he better leave the past where it belonged.

Three days passed quickly. Jenn came over as usual and she didn’t bring up the flyer that was now in New York’s dump. “Come on I have something to show you!” She pulled him out of his shabby apartment and down into the crowded streets of New York.

“Where the hell are we going Jenn? We never go past eleventh street.” Jaxon started worrying when the streets filled with young half dressed people became crowed with older people with expensive clothing on.

“Jenn, you better not be taking me to-” She pulled him into a building cutting him short. “Come on and stop being a pessimist!” After they entered the luxurious elevator and she pressed the thirty fourth floor, Jaxon brought his interrogating skills out to play.

“This better be another one of your trips to see your new boyfriend.” Lets see if she takes the bait… “Jaxon you know I’m going through a lover drought right now.” Ha! Wait…she doesn’t have a boyfriend anymore?

“Since when? It seemed like you and Leon where doing great.” Jaxon said, getting sidetracked. “Leon was doing great fucking Lila from accounting.” She giggled. “I heard he got crabs so all’s fair in love and war.”

Ding.

“This way,” Jenn said trying to pull Jaxon out of the elevator fast enough that he couldn’t read the Shiek logo on the wall.

“What the hell…” he stopped dead in his tracks and Jenn couldn’t gain any leverage.

“Why did you bring me here Jenn?” His voice was emotionless. “You need to get back to what you love. I’ve seen you these past two months and you have been dying slowly in front of me! It’s as if you died along with your studio.”

“I’m sorry that I was a little upset when that bitch burnt down all I worked for the past five years!”

“I was with you! Don’t you remember?! I was there right by your side all through high school and through college. Even through the mess Darla left you in.” Jenn’s brown eyes glazed over with unshed tears. “Don’t you think it hurt me too Jaxon? I saw everything you loved go up in flames.”

She choked on a sob and whispered so low Jaxon almost didn’t hear her. “I saw the person I love turn into a shell.” She couldn’t hold in the tears anymore and they ran down her face staining her cheeks.

Her tears tore a hole in Jaxon’s heart. He couldn’t bear to see her crying. “I’m sorry, Jenn,” he wrapped his arm around her and she burrowed her head into his chest. “I know you were acting on your best intentions.” He ran his fingers through her hair soothingly, “I mean its just an interview right? If it makes you happy I will go in there and have the pointless interview.”

She lifted her head to meet his eyes. She glared at the word pointless but he saw the hope blooming in her beautiful brown eyes. “I made you a portfolio from the personal pictures you’ve given me through the years.”

She reached into her huge over sized bag and pulled out a nice black leather portfolio. He couldn’t stop his curiosity and he opened it.

“I thought these we all burned in the fire,” he gasped not taking his eyes off his work. It was all there. The tree house, the lake, the snowy mountains, but it was the last that caught his attention.

It was one of Jenn, he took it at Central Park the first day he got his new camera. She was sitting on an empty bench and it was fall almost winter, leaves were everywhere even in her hair. Jaxon smiled to himself as he studied her profile in the picture, she seemed lost in thought as she looked off into the distance.

Then a thought struck him, all the photos they had a connection with Jenn. The lake where they spent most of their high school years dreaming about college and their futures. The snowy mountains as well as the tree house held our history.

He looked up from the wonderful gift and smiled for the first time in two months. He closed the portfolio and brought Jenn into a searing kiss. She tensed up surprised, but then she melted into his embrace kissing him back all the passion she held for him.

Suddenly her phone started to ring and he pulled back reluctantly. She glared down at it cursing whoever it was to the deepest pits of Hades.

“Hello?” She answered a bit annoyed, okay more than annoyed. “Oh my gosh yes we are right outside…no we already understand your time is precious…I…thank you sir.” She hung up and practically threw Jaxon down the hall.

“We have two point five seconds before they cancel your appointment!” They raced into the side office and the receptionist looked at them with disinterest.

“Appointment at twelve thirty, Jaxon R.?” She said marking something on her desk.

“Yes ma’am.” She nodded and then looked at me. “I’m sorry but only the photographer gets to go into the interview.”

Jenn nodded and hugged Jaxon good luck. “Knock ‘em dead, Cowboy.” He grinned for the second time in two months, she almost forgot how mind numbingly sexy that grin was.
After an hour of intense waiting, Jaxon finally emerged from the office. “How did it go?” Jenn rushed up, and he smiled pulling her into a tight hug.

“They want to hire me.”

Jenn’s breath got caught in her throat and she pulled back to look into his deep green eyes. “You mean you got the job?” she squealed with happiness.

“You don’t even know the best part yet. I have a photo shoot today…” He did that whole crooked, melt your panties off grin leaving her breathless as he brought his lips to her ear. “And you’re my model.”

Jenn gasped at the shocking news. “M-me? Why me? I’ve never modeled before, I’d get you fired! You should get a professional.”

He guided her to the studio just two offices down. “You’re my muse Jenn. In anything I ever shot, it reminded me of you. And you want to know a secret? Their favorite picture was of you in the park.”

She blushed at the news, “I don’t know how to model though, Jaxon. What if you waste film on me?”

“Nothing is wasted if it is on you.” He kissed her tenderly on the lips and she felt herself come undone with him. She sighed and have him a playful glare.

“Only a few pictures,” he raised his camera to his eye locking her in his sights. “Wait I’m not ready!” She laughed and covered face with both of her hands but she left room for her eye so she could keep sight of Jaxon.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he chased her around snapping photos of her. They ran into the prop room and Jenn fell on a big poofy bed looking thing. Jaxon looked down at her and she sent him a sexy smile promising fun.

He clicked his camera two more times before tossing it on the bed. “Camera time is over,” Jenn said while Jaxon locked the door. “I heard it was good to bless your new studio for good luck.”
Jenn smirked and pulled him down on top of her. “I think we should make sure your workspace gets blessed good, we wouldn’t want you to have bad-” Her lips were suddenly preoccupied to finish her sentence…

Saturday, January 22, 2011

SnappleApple450 Week 35: Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants You (Part 3)

SnappleApple 450
Saturday



Picture 1

Picture 2


SnappleApple 450's Choice: both

Title:
Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants you? (Part 3)

I had a dream I was walking through the snow in Alaska, looking for a way out. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, maybe a door or portal. After all it was a dream, anything’s possible. As I was walking I saw something in the snow. It looked familiar so I started running for it. When I came up to it, I saw it was a taco. Why in the hell was there a taco in my dream? What could a taco be doing in the middle of Alaska? It was something I’d find back in a city, but definitely not out here. It didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t want to be here. Anger boiled into my veins as I stepped on the taco, waking up from the dream.

The next morning Bianca could smell breakfast cooking. Slowly she got out of bed and grabbed her robe. She heard talking in the other room and followed it to the kitchen.

“Oh good morning Bianca!” Mrs. Bowers chirped.

Bianca flinched at the noise. “Would you like some breakfast? We have bacon, sausage, muffins, eggs, and orange juice.”

“She’s a hippy, mom, she doesn’t eat meat.”

“I’m not a hippy,” Bianca hissed at Christopher.

He smirked biting into some bacon. “You’re dirty, don’t eat meat, and do drugs.”

“Sounds like a hippy to me,” Corky laughed.

She glared, grabbing a muffin and sitting down. “Well dear, enjoy your muffin,” Mrs. Bowers smiled.

“Twenty dollars says she’ll be eating meat by the time she leaves,” Corky grinned, biting into the crunchy bacon.

Bianca ignored them all, peeling off the muffin wrapper.

“So what do you and Chris have planned for this beautiful day?” Mr. Bowers asked.

Bianca choked on her muffin. “Excuse me?”

Chris would have found it slightly humorous if he didn’t have the same reaction when they first told him. “Yes Bianca, I hate it as much as you, but the fact is we’re stuck together so just deal with it.”

She glared at him. “I’m not feeling well today, Mrs. Bowers,” she gave a pained look. “Feminine reasons…you know.”

Mrs. Bowers was sympathetic immediately. “Oh I know how that is, but I know a remedy that works for me. Elk urine.”

Chris started to laugh, covering his mouth. Bianca’s face twisted from fake pain to real disgust.
Mrs. Bowers nodded matter-of-factly. “Yes ma’am I just mix it into some tea to mask the flavor and within minutes my cramps are gone!”

“I would hate to be you, Bianca Stratford.” Chris was still laughing.

Bianca shook her head. “I’d really like to just sleep and tea isn’t my thing. I’m more of a Starbuck’s person myself.”

“What’s that?” Corky asked.

Bianca covered her face. “I don’t believe it. This is all a dream.”

Chris got up and walked around the table, leaning down to her ear. “Rise and shine sweetheart, you’re here for two months.” He walked away, leaving her angry.

She wanted to hit something and acting on impulse, she chucked her muffin at his retreating figure. “Asshole!” She stormed off to the bathroom to shower.

They didn’t have a shower; they had a bathtub. She groaned and stripped off her clothes as she ran the bath. They had placed her toiletries on the floor by the sink. Mrs. Bowers had a line of different bubble bath soaps. Bianca poured in the lavender scented and watched the bubbles form.

Once the tub was filled, she stepped into the water and sank in with a moan. She twisted her hair up and clipped it into place above the nape of her neck, leaning back as she closed the curtain around the tub. You’d think a pampered heiress would take baths frequently, but she preferred her stand up shower; complete with a seat and detachable shower-head for when she wanted to have fun. A bath was a nice change though. She closed her eyes and sunk lower. If she could live out the two months doing this, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Suddenly she heard the bathroom door swing open and someone walk in. They weren’t aware of her being in the bath. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t anyone knock?! She wasn’t used to sharing a bathroom. A few seconds passed and they pulled the curtain out of the way. Chris was standing there fully nude with a towel draped over his arm.

Bianca screamed, trying to hide herself under the bubbles. He quickly wrapped the towel around himself. “Bianca, what the hell are you doing?”

She grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her frame as she stood up. “Excuse me? I was here first! Ever heard of knocking?”

“Not in my house! You could have warned me!”

They were both face to face, each with nothing but a towel on. Bianca looked at his parted lips, his breathing harsh with anger. She bit her lower lip wanting to kiss him, wanting to pull his towel away and pull him into the tub with her.

His anger melted away, leaving his eyes; he found the humor in the situation. “Why aren’t you saying anything? I know you’ve had to have seen naked guys before.”

Once again, she acted on impulse. Pressing her lips to his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands went to her waist and she thought he was going to push her away, but he pulled her closer. She deepened the kiss, her wet soapy hands moved to chest as she made her way down to his towel.

He chuckled, grabbing her hand. “You New Yorkers are quick to jump.”

She smiled coyly. “That’s my secret to life. Impulse is everything. Like Nike says: just do it.”

He nodded. “And it was impulse that got you here in the first place. Start thinking about your actions, Bee.” He grabbed his clothes and went to leave.

“You kissed me back,” she said, playing with the edge of her towel.

He had his hand on the door and smiled. “I did nothing of the sort, Bee.”

She glared at him as he left. Jerk was going to deny kissing her? It was probably his first kiss. She smirked, getting out of the tub and drying off. He was a damn good kisser….

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Burntcore Week 35

Burntcore
Thursday



Picture 1

Picture 2


Burntcore's Choice: Picture 1


Title:
Rewards

The pounding on the bedroom door continued. My mind swept through the memories of earlier that night as I sat mired in a toxic mix of emotions. I struggled with being horrified, disappointed, feeling scared, and incredibly guiltily. Curled up in the corner of the bedroom with my arms wrapped around my legs, I tried to ignore the pounding on the door and the concerned voice behind it.

“Holli, please, baby, just open the door.”

Pound. Pound. Pound.

“Holli, please. I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. It was an accident. I never meant it to happen.”

Tears burst forth from my eyes once again as he spoke. If it wasn’t for me pushing him, we never would’ve been in this position tonight. I wouldn’t be in our bedroom crying. Cory wouldn’t be outside the door banging on it.

It was my fault.

It was my fault that he drank.

It was my fault that he drank for the first time since going into recovery.

It was my fault that he drank for the first time since going into recovery because I insisted that we go to that particular bar as a test.

It was all my fault.

And now he blamed himself... something else for me to feel guilty over. I sighed and wiped my face off. “I know, Cory. This was my fault.”

“What?” he asked incredulously.

I stood up and walked to the door but did not open it. I rested my hand on the face of the door, about where I imagined Cory to be standing on the other side. “I pressed you to go there. You didn’t want to but I insisted. If I hadn’t forced you, this wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have caused you to backslide.” I sniffed and tried to keep fresh tears from rolling down my face.

Things I had learned from the Al-Anon meetings floated around through my misery, lessons that I knew but that had failed to take hold in this situation. How many meetings had I gone to where participants discussed about how their loved one had slipped up and had a drink or two or three or more? How many times had the meeting leader offered suggestions and not to give up hope?

Yet, here I was, as if the world was coming to an end. Why? Because I was the reason he drank. It wasn’t his weakness… it was mine.

“Holli, you didn’t make me drink. You didn’t hold that glass to my lips and force it down my throat. That was all me.”
“But you wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t pressed for that restaurant!” I protested.

Cory sighed and I heard a thump on the door that sounded like his head. “Holli, baby, please, just open the door so we can talk about this,” he begged.

I retreated back to the bed and sat down on it gingerly. Unbidden, memories of our lovemaking on that bed came rushing forward. I gasped, my hands fisting the coverlet from the intensity. I snapped my eyes shut to try to stop the images in my mind. When I felt I could open them again, I tried to look somewhere that wouldn’t provoke a memory. The window seemed to be the only safe choice. It was too dark to see anything else that would remind me of anything.

Despite my attempts at clearing my mind, even staring out the window into the darkness reminded me of too many late night strolls, too many nights spent outside on our patio staring at the stars, too many... everything. I stifled another sob and buried my face in my hands.

“Holli,” Cory’s voice pleaded once again from the hallway, muffled by the door. “Holli, please open the door.”

I wiped my face off and shuffled over to the door and undid the lock. As soon as the lock had slid back into place, Cory had the door open and was rushing in. I hadn’t moved quickly enough and the door banged into my side, making me lose my balance.

“Oh shit, Holli, you okay?” Cory rushed over to me and caught me before I fell.

I nodded and wiped my face off again. I had the feeling snot trailed across my face.

Cory led us over to the loveseat by the window, settling down next to me with his arm still wrapped around my shoulders. I sniffled as I tried to get control of my emotions. Cory rubbed my arm softly as he looked down at me with concern.

This was wrong. This wasn’t about me. This was about him. He was the recovering alcoholic, not me. Why was I making this about me?

“I’m so sorry, Cory. I pushed you too hard.”

Cory took my hand and held it, rubbing his thumb along mine.

“You didn’t make me order that drink. You didn’t pour it down my throat. I did that.”

“But it was my idea to go there.”

“And I could’ve told you no. I could’ve suggested some other place. I pushed myself too hard.”

Cory’s eyes turned sad as the impact of what happened really started to sink in.

“I’m sorry, Cory. I should’ve let you go at your pace. We’ve come so far,” I whispered.

“We have,” he agreed. “This is a set back, but it’s not the end of the world. I’m in a much better place now than three years ago. This isn’t something that will just go away, but it is something that I can deal with, that we can deal with together.”

I nodded and snuggled closer into his arms.

“Don’t blame yourself, Holli. This was not your fault.”

I nodded again and finally had the courage to look him in the eye. “I may not have put the drink in your hand, but I think that you shouldn’t shoulder all of the blame. I pushed you farther than what you were ready for, putting you in a position to fail.”

He nodded this time and squeezed my hand. “Alright, I’ll give you that provided that you don’t beat yourself up about this. It happened, there’s no going back. All we can do is to learn from it and move on.”

I sniffled again and smiled weakly at him.

“I made the choice to have the drink and I have to face the consequences of those actions. I need to take a step back and really examine where I am and where I need to go in my recovery. I slipped, but I have not completely fallen.”

“What do you need me to do?” I asked softly.

“To trust me, to believe in me, just as you did before. This slip-up is kind of a blessing because now I know more of what that intense craving feels like after having abstained for so long. It will be easier for me to recognize in the future. However, I don’t want to constantly challenge myself with those kind of dangers. Tonight was a prime example that I still have a ways to go.”

Cory rose from the loveseat only to kneel down at my feet. He took both of my hands in his and looked up at me, his eyes pouring into mine, begging for me to believe him.

“Holli, I love you so much, sweetheart. I would never do anything intentionally to put our love and our relationship in jeopardy again. I need you to realize that. I can’t say this will be the only time I’ll make a mistake, but I can tell you that I won’t let it keep me down. I don’t want to be the same man I was when I left. I won’t be that man again,” he said with determination.

He stared at our joined hands before looking up at me again, his eyes beginning to get watery with unshed tears. “This addiction, it’s the toughest thing I’ve ever had to deal with in my whole life. I’ve nearly lost everything because of it. I won’t lose you again. I love you, Holli. I love you so very much. Your love and trust in me gives me the motivation to continue. You are the reason why I’ve been able to fight for so long. You are the reason I’ll be able to continue to fight and persevere.

Cory shifted his weight slightly before continuing. “I’m doing this for myself too, but you are a great motivator. You are the goal I am shooting for... you are the prize. A life with you, a lifetime with you by my side. I can’t think of a greater reward.”

Tears flowed freely down my face. This time not from sadness but hope. Not an hour ago I felt like this could be the end, that my stupidity caused the breakdown of what could’ve been one of the greatest relationships in my life. However, Cory surprised me. Despite this setback, he remained strong. He had a momentary weakness, but it wasn’t the end.

A lifetime together? Did he really say that? Did he really mean that? I blushed as his final words sunk in.

“Really?” I murmured, so softly that I wasn’t sure if he heard me.

He nodded and squeezed my hands again.

I could be strong for him. I would be strong for him. We would get past this. We’d talk about it in our next meetings and keep going. The past was the past. The only thing left was the future.

The guilt that I had been holding onto since I saw him with a drink to his lips finally started to slip away. Determination surfaced. I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips to his. He responded eagerly but carefully. Cory released my hands only to cup my face with his.

When he finally pulled away, he slowly stood up with a sigh.

“Now, I really need to own up to this and talk to my sponsor.”

I smiled softly and wiped the tears from my eyes.

“Will you be okay?” Cory asked.

“Yes, as long as we are together.”

Cory smiled for the first time since we came home. He flashed his reassuring smile one more time before he turned and left the room. A few minutes later I heard his voice from the other room as he spoke to his sponsor about what happened.

We’d get past this. We were past this.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Kimmydon Week 35

Kimmydon
Wednesday



Picture 1

Picture 2


Kimmydon's Choice: both


Title:
Christmas


AN: Anal play. Hope that doesn't turn you completely off.
I lay on the pool deck beside Beth. It was the first day we’d spend at the resort. I’d joined her for half of her hikes, lazed in bed for some, on the beach for others, but I’d managed to keep up with her for most of them.

She was loving it here. Sure, she complained once in a while that it was too hot and humid, usually when trying to sleep, but otherwise, she’d donned her khaki shorts and Lycra sports top and never looked back. Apparently she’d even climbed a tree, returning with the fruit to prove it.

I didn’t like that part - worried that she’d hurt herself. Other than a few scrapes from the tree, she was fine, radiant in fact. There was a definite glow to her that went beyond the different light here.

Morning sickness hadn’t bothered her much. She’d only been sick a few times. Generally, she just had no appetite in the morning, feeling nauseous for hours, and then ravenous when it passed. She had lost a little weight, which worried her and the doctor, but that had levelled off again. Everyone expected she would be gaining weight soon, as the baby grew.

Rolling to the side, I watched her doze, wearing her bikini top for the first time today. She had gone for the one-piece when snorkeling.

“I can feel you watching me,” she murmured, a smile breaking out. She shielded her eyes before opening them. “I thought you wanted to nap.”

“I thought I did, too.” I rolled further, one knee on the deck, one on her lounge, propping myself up to kiss her. “I think I’d like to move our nap somewhere more private.”

She giggled and turned on her side. “I think I can lead us somewhere.” She kissed me again before rising. I followed her out of the resort and down a path. She grabbed my hips and spun, putting her back to one of the trees. We weren’t far off the path, but the tree more blocked our view of it, and us from anyone on it. It was more than enough for me. Grabbing her thigh, I lifted it to my hip, opposite hand bracing the tree beside her head.

“Peter,” she murmured, closing her eyes for a moment.

“Yes, mistress?” I teased, kissing her throat and rubbing myself along her.

She groaned before pushing me away slightly. Ducking under my arm, she slipped out from between me and the tree. Her palms pressed on my shoulder blades, pushing me into the bark she had rested on.

“Trust me,” she whispered in my ear, and her hands were on my hips easing my shorts down. Her lips kissed each of my cheeks as I stepped out of them, not sure what she planned, but knowing it would be good. There was a small snap, and it took will power not to turn and see what she was doing. She didn’t need to tell me not to look anymore. I’d had more than enough punishments for that. I licked my lips, wondering if it might not be worth a peek.

Before I could make up my mind, my backside burned and loud thwack filled the air. Whatever she was using was broader than the crop, more like the paddle. I groaned and thrust my hips out a little further, my eyes squeezed shut. Another crack and another spank made them circle. I opened my eyes looking under my arm at her.

She was everything I’d ever dreamed. This sight was familiar now. Beth, her mouth spread in a wide grin, implement in hand, tapping it on her palm, counting seconds between strokes. The count was up, and another blow landed on my ass. I cried between clenched teeth this time, arms tightening as I held myself up.

There was more rustling, and when I looked this time, she was naked; her bikini atop my shorts. That was all the time I had before another blow of the frond landed on me. I’d gotten a look at it now, the long stem with green at it’s tip. I think she’d hoped that would slap well, but sadly, it didn’t. The center was doing just fine though as I thrust toward the tree again with a groan.

“I forgot to make you count,” she murmured, her hand on my very hot skin, fingers pointing down, curling under the cheek. “Oh well, next time. She lifted her hand and brought it down again. I thought I would die. Nothing felt as good as her hand.

“Beth,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, Peter?” she asked, tipping her head to my eye level, I wasn’t standing straight at all anymore. “More?” Another palm on the other cheek. Then she disappeared behind me and her lips replaced her hand. She passed them gently over my skin, barely touching, making me all the more sensitive...

I nearly fell when she hit me next, knees buckling. I felt her hands grasp my hips, hauling them up. “Whoa. Break time,” she declared, holding her hips against mine, her skin cool where mine burned. Reaching around she fondled me, and I was able to straighten a little, enough to twist.

She stretched along my back and met my lips with her own. “Thank you for this,” she said. “A wonderful Christmas present.”

I chuckled. “I’m enjoying it.”

She laughed heartily. “I can see that!” She stroked my length again, squeezing harder. My eyes closed and found her ginning again when they opened. She licked a finger and I shuddered, knowing what she planned.

She didn’t miss the response and paused. “No?”

I shook my head. “Not no. God, what you do to me....” I bent one elbow and put my head to it against the tree. She grinned and ran that finger down the crack in my ass, making it come up again as I arched. She dropped me to grab my hair, pulling it back as she passed over my asshole again, continuing up my spine.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

“As you wish,” she said, kissing my ear. Her finger pressed against my asshole, tapping and circling until I relaxed. She released my hair and I rested it on my arm again, breathing deeply.

That did it, and I was suddenly tense again as her finger barely poked in. She held my length again and stroked as she turned her finger slowly, pushing and pulling so slightly.

“Do you like that?” she asked, her finger gone and a palm smacking my cheek in its place, making it sting again. My legs shook, but held. She was quick to start teasing my asshole again.

“Do I make you feel half this good?” I asked, tensing as she pushed a little deeper into me.

“Twice,” she said, kissing my back. Licking down my spine, I arched, thrusting into her hand, feeling my balls tucking up into me. I was so close. “You make me fall apart.”

“I’m falling apart,” I told her, hips rocking back, driving her finger into me, further than I expected. She twisted and I lost it. Pumping against her hand, she held tight, not letting me move and I screamed in frustration.

“I get to say when,” she whispered, pulling out slightly. “Now,” she declared, sliding her hand over me and pushing in once more.

“God, Beth,” I moaned as I blew my load over the bark of the tree.

I turned, once I was steady, and knelt in front of her. “What would you like, mistress?” I asked, ready to reciprocate in any way she desired.

She smiled. “Actually, I think I’d like to find somewhere else.” She bent and passed me my shorts. “Walk with me?”

Sighing, I nodded. This was the discipline part that was so hard. The hardest order to follow was the one to wait.

She led me along the trail, taking a fork I hadn’t gone down before. “Isn’t it lovely?” she asked, pointing to a tree-house ahead. Her fingers wrapped around mine and we stepped nearer. It had a ramp of rungs leading up to it and nothing barring entrance. “It’s public,” she said as I paused. “It was on my tour - somewhere to escape the rain. Though I don’t know why anyone would want to escape it.” I followed her up and paused just inside the door.

From the outside, it had been obvious that it was one room, but it wasn’t this room. This was Grandma Nettie and Grandpa Dave’s trailer, the one they took to Florida before buying the condo. I turned, looking for Beth, but she was gone.

Had I fallen asleep? This had to be some sort of dream.

“No dream, Pete. Vision, maybe.” I turned to the familiar voice, and saw Sarah. She had her hands on her hips, looking at me impatiently. “Which means it’s short. Pay attention.” She snapped her fingers and I straightened.

“Baby or Beth?” she asked.

“What?!” What on earth was she asking?

“Baby or Beth,” she said again, looking at her nails.

“Are you real?” I asked, still not quite believing. I could smell cigarette smoke, either from her or the trailer. I reached out and touched the filmy black top she wore. It felt real.

“I’m running out of time here, Pete,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “That baby starts thinking soon. I’m not asking life or death, just pick one. Baby or Beth?”

“Beth,” I said, still not sure what she was asking.

She smiled. “Good boy. Can’t wait.”

Reality seemed to pop like a bubble and my hand was laced with Beth’s again. We stood in the entrance of the little tree-house. I was happy to take a seat. Beth sat beside me, concern etched on her features.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, pulling our hands into her lap and stroking mine.

I shook my head at first, not sure how to articulate. “I saw... Sarah.” I held my free hand to my head, feeling shaky.

Beth’s hand stopped. “Here?” she asked. “Why here?” She looked around the small room, puzzled.

I appreciated that she didn’t assume I was crazy, just started looking for what might trigger a memory. “I love you,” I murmured, pulling my hand free to hug her tightly.

She sighed into my shoulder. “I love you, too. What did she say?” she asked as I released her.

“Baby or Beth. I don’t know why she wanted me to choose, or what I was choosing for. She just said I had to hurry.” I brought my head up sharply, remembering clearly. “She said the baby would be thinking soon.”

Beth grinned, touching her belly. The pouch there had actually gotten smaller, but would start growing soon. “Thinking,” she mused. “Wonder if she’ll be as much of a smart-ass as me.”

“The world hopes not,” I told her kissing her nose. She chuckled. “I picked you.”

Her smile softened. “Thank you.”

I shrugged. “I have to pick you. I need you.”

She leaned into me. “I need you, too. There may be other babies, though I hope nothing happens to this one. There is only one Peter.”

“And only one Beth.” I kissed her temple and then started down her neck, along her shoulder.

“Follow me.” Her voice was husky and I wondered what orders she would have once she led us somewhere private.

“Can’t wait,” Sarah’s voice seemed to say again as we left.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

I Wish I Was Esme Week 35: Love Yourself

I Wish I Was Esme
Tuesday



Picture 1

Picture 2


I Wish I Was Esme's Choice: Picture 2


Title:
Love Yourself


Ever since I was little, I had left notes for people everywhere. Sometimes just a post-it stuck in a library book saying ‘You’re beautiful,’ but a lot of times I would do something big when I was somewhere beautiful or somewhere important. In a society like ours, everyone needs and wants reaffirmation that they are pretty just the way they are.

My notes may not help anyone, but if they help one person it was worth it. Hollywood shouldn’t make women feel like they should be a size zero. Size twenty-four was just as beautiful, no one should say otherwise.

Monday, January 17, 2011

AJ Silent Voice Week 35: Truth Time

AJ Silent Voice
Monday



Picture 1

Picture 2


AJ Silent Voice’s Choice: Picture 1


Title:
Truth Time

They sat, cuddled on the couch, with no light except for the television. The weather was dismal, so movie day was the best alternative. For Sara, being near Jake was instant stress relief; his warm body held her tight, and without intending to, she tuned into his heartbeat and drifted off.

Jake knew the second she succumbed to sleep. He loved when her breathing deepened and she snored a little bit; it warmed his heart. He held her close, lightly ghosting his fingertips along her arms, relishing the softness of her skin. The last six months seemed to fly by, and each day he fell more and more in love with her. But each day, he also became more and more aware of the ax hanging over their heads. She still didn’t know what he was.

When Sara woke, the movie was winding down, and the main character was making his climactic ending monologue in front of a backdrop of crackling lightening. He spoke of power and destiny and the terrible weight it places on a person. He gave one final evil laugh and the credits began to roll. Jake smoothed the hair away from her flushed face and gently kissed her forehead.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispered. Sara yawned and smiled, snuggling herself deeper into Jake’s chest. “You hungry?”

Sara nodded, but groaned as Jake extricated himself from her arms. He sighed as well, but patted her head and told her he’d be right back. He quickly made three sandwiches with the works, two for him and one for Sara, and grabbed them a soda to share. When he returned to the living room, he found she’d dozed off again and laughed. He shook her lightly and she sat up with a start. As soon as he sat the food in front of him and took his seat, Sara was back in his arms. He definitely didn’t mind.

They ate in silence, and Sara felt a weird vibe coming off of Jake. Silence didn’t worry her, but his eyes were shifty and he seemed on edge.

“You okay?” she asked. Jake looked at her, surprised, then guilty, but nodded his head.

“Yup,” he said, going back to his sandwich. She took his word for it, seeing as he’d never lied to her before, and went back to eating. After a few bites of her sandwich, and a whole sandwich for Jake, Sara could tell he wasn’t okay. He seemed to shift uncomfortably under her gaze, and she couldn’t ignore the sideways glances he was throwing her. She could tell he was trying to get the courage to say whatever he needed to say. Finally, unable to take anymore, she sat her sandwich down and just laid it all out on the line.

“Spit it out, Jake.” Sara stared at him, thinking the worst. Had he changed his mind about her? Did he miss the rez and want to move home? Was he not in love with her anymore? Her mind raced and she couldn’t help the tears that seeped from the corner of her eyes.

Jake quickly wiped her face and kissed her softly. “Hey, hey. Calm down, okay? It’s nothing like that. I know what you’re thinking and just stop.”

“Then what’s it like, Jake? Just tell me and quit this shit. Stop fucking stringing me along!” She sniffed and jerked her arm away from him, standing up to tower over him.

He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. He rarely cursed, but he muttered a few expletives at his predicament. This was it. His forehead broke out into a sweat and his hands turned clammy. He rubbed them together, trying to spark some resolve, but nothing happened. He went to speak, and as soon as he gazed up at her face, his mouth went dry. He cleared his throat and tried again.

Nothing.

“Sara, can you sit down, please?” he asked, sheepishly.

She caught the cautious tone of his voice and, without putting up an argument, took her seat again. She kept her arms crossed in front of her chest and never took her eyes off him. He seemed to be falling apart more every second. He looked so lost, so nervous, that before she could think about it, she’d reached out and grabbed his hand. His eyes shot to hers and he smiled, albeit nervously, and she nodded her head.

He gripped her hand tightly. “Promise me you’ll let me finish before you say or do anything, alright?”

Sara nodded, so Jake started from the beginning.

She didn’t move a muscle as he told her about his tribe’s history. She didn’t flinch when he got to the part where he told her that he could shape shift into a giant werewolf. She didn’t even bat an eyelash when he told her that he fought vampires, but as he talked tears began to pour down her face. Jake was leery to continue, but she kept her promise to let him finish.

When he was done, and she knew all about his world and the evils associated with it, Sara launched herself into Jake’s arms and sobbed. He tried to comfort her, to coax her to talk to him, but nothing worked. She was inconsolable.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime to Jake, Sara pulled herself away from his chest and wiped her snotty nose on the back of her hand. Jake cleared the strands of wet hair away from her mouth and eyes and held her face in both hands.

“Talk to me,” he begged, his hands visibly trembling.

She closed her eyes and shook her head and more tears came. “I thought you were leaving me.” She stared at the ceiling, unable to look him in the face. “I thought you’d seen what kind of person I was, and you didn’t want me. I thought you were getting tired of me.”

She grew quiet and Jake let out a long, slow breath. Finally, reluctantly, she pulled her gaze from the ceiling. As soon as her glistening eyes met his, he began to pepper light, feverish kisses on her lips. In between his kisses, Sara blubbered. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

Jake pulled her to him and molded her form to his body, holding her tighter than he should have, but neither of them seemed to mind. “I love you, Sara. More than anything. More than my life.”

She kissed his neck, his shoulder and relished the strength in his arms. “Again.”

“You’re my life, Sara. I love you so much.” Jake’s voice cracked and he let tears of relief and joy wash away the fear he’d felt. She was still here, and that meant something.

Jake stood, Sara cradled to his body, and walked slowly into the bedroom. They had all the time in the world to talk. Tonight, they needed to feel.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Destinee Week 34: Rainy Day

Destiny Cullen
Sunday



Picture 1

Picture 2


Destiny Cullen’s Choice: Picture 2


Title:
Rainy Day


“You’re really not coming?” I pouted through the phone as I walked out into the backyard.
“I’d promise to make it, but I don’t think I can make myself magically appear into our bedroom.” I smiled as he mimicked the fairy godmother off of Cinderella. “Bibbity Bobbity-”

“Babe, I get it,” I said through my laughter.

“I thought I really had it that time.” I could hear the smile on his face. “I’ll try to make it as fast as I can, Jenna. Love you.” I smiled as he made kissing noises.

“Stop making out with the phone, you might crash.” I laughed.

“I’m watching the road. I want to actually hold you when I get home.” He chuckled. I smiled and looked up at the rare gray clouds filling the sky.

“I love you, Nixon. Call me when you finally enter our lovely state of Arizona.”

After we hung up, I sighed, looking at the phone and wishing he really could just appear. I hadn’t seen him in two years. He got accepted to NYU, and as his girlfriend for four years then, I couldn’t tell him to stay in our small town of only eighteen hundred.

He left after lots of reassurance and death threats. It didn’t make the separation easier, but I knew it was what was best for him. Despite all the gossip in town, Nixon and I had our relationship intact. I smiled, thinking about all the late night phone calls or the long video chats on Skype we had.

“Jenna! Get your ass inside. The decorations are rebelling!” my friend Adrienne yelled from inside the house.

“Adri! I told you no decorations. You know Nixon doesn’t want any flair.” I said out on a sigh as I walking in on Adrienne trying to hang something from the ceiling.

I covered my face with my hand. “Adri?” She grunted in response. “What are you hanging from the roof?”

“Oh it’s just a ‘Welcome Home Shitface’ banner.” I narrowed my eyes at her as she smirked over her shoulder.

“Adri, you better be joking.” She laughed and stepped down from the ladder and put her hands on her hips.

“Girl you better be joking thinking you are going to look like that when you’re boyfriend for six years, two of which he was gone, comes home.”

I rolled my eyes. “He loves me no matter -” She cut me off with a finger in the air and she raised her eyebrows.

“If you say ’how you look’ I will bitch slap you because that is what best friends do.” I glared at her playfully. Adrienne really had too much attitude and flair for our whole town, she should have been born in New York, or maybe Vegas.

Once Adri maneuvered me into my bedroom and the shower, she left only to give me a false sense of hope that she was going to let me bathe in peace. “You must know you are my best friend who else would I share my five hundred dollar body wash with?”

She suddenly opened the shower curtain and I gasped and covered myself the best I could with my hands and soap suds.

“What the hell Adri?!”

“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes. “Its not like you don’t have anything I don’t. I just wanted to tell you not to use all of the body scrub.”

She closed the curtain and I rolled my eyes as I opened her jar of black goop. I put some on my skin and it felt really weird.

“Caviar body scrub is hard to come across.” I froze and dropped the jar.

“What kind of body scrub did you give me?!” I heard her laugh and close the door.

Several repeats of scrubbing my skin with my wash rag later, I emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me.

“Looking good there, so fresh and radiant.” I glared at her and was about to yell at her and denounce her as my friend when my phone started ringing.

I ran as fast as I could to pick up my phone in the living room. “Hello?” I said breathless. I heard his chuckle.

“Am I interrupting something?” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Yeah, you’re cutting into Adri’s torture time.” I said trying to be mad, but once he laughed again I couldn’t be. “Are you almost home?” I asked.

“Almost, I just passed the famous Entering Phoenix sign. Just about an hour or so and I’ll be there in your arms babe.” A grin spread across my face picturing his warm hug enveloping me.

“Whoa!” I heard him shout out of nowhere and a chill rain over my body.

“Are you okay? What happened?” There was a lot of rustling then his voice came back on the line.

“It’s raining pretty bad, the roads are really slick and people are drifting into my lane.”

“I’ll let you go then. I love you, Nixon, and please be careful.”

“Always baby.”

I dropped the phone and walked back into the room, glancing out the side window to see the darkness of night intensifying the gloom of the black storm clouds.

“This is crazy, when does it ever rain this hard in Arizona?” Adri said from the window. The rain bashed harder against the window seeming to prove a point.

“Yeah, Nixon just called. he is on the I-10 just past Phoenix. He said that people were swerving into his lane and he had to go.” I rubbed my arms suddenly getting cold.

“Well it is Arizona, we don’t know how to drive in the rain.” Adrienne said trying to lighten the mood. She tried to get my mind off of the storm and the sick feeling in my gut that something bad was going to happen.

“Come on Jenna, stop staring at the wall like that. If you keep on acting like Eyore for no reason, I’m going to pour more caviar body scrub on you.”

I jumped up and put on whatever she put in front of me; my worry was not worth getting caviar thrown on me. About thirty minutes and five pounds of make up, lotion, and perfume later, she was done with me and I finally got to put on the TV. Biggest mistake of my life.

“The 38 car pile up on I-10 is the worst we have seen in thirty years. I don’t know how many casualties we have just yet but word is that we have five people dead already. This is Lisa Zahn from KOVA reporting live from Phoenix, back to you in the studio.”

I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think. I felt Adri pull me into a hug but I hardly felt her. I pushed her away running for the phone, tears stinging my eyes. “No, no he is fine. I know he is. I know…” I called his phone five times but each time it went to voicemail.

My head got light and my vision blurry. The last thing I saw was the floor rushing up to meet my face.

***


I woke up to Adrienne standing over me with a worried but pissed off face such as she gets when she’s scared. I lifted myself up from the couch I was laying on and regretted it.

“What Adri? What the hell happen-” I remembered the news and my eyes instantly started to tear up. “Have you heard anything yet?” I said shockingly calm.

She put her hand on mine, “I don’t want you to be left alone tonight, Jenna.” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“What did you hear Adri? What are you not telling me?” She avoided my gaze and I stood up making her look at me. “Tell me.”

Adri took a deep breath and whispered, “I really don’t want you to be alone. I heard on the news that they found a twenty year old male in a black car with New York plates.”

It took all I had not to break down. “I’ll be alright Adri, you can go home. You know how I hate to be treated like a child.”

“Jenn, please. I want to stay here with you, she pleaded.

I shook my head. “I want to be alone, I’m not going to kill myself and you know it. Now leave me alone or I’m going to call Jerry at the station and have him take you home.”

“Fine, but I’m going to check up on you tonight, even if you call your contacts at the police station.” She gave me a look that said if I did anything she didn’t like she’d call Jerry herself.

Once Adrienne was out of the house, I couldn’t hold in my tears in anymore. It seemed like every muscle in my body was tight with the pain of loss. My movements were stiff, but I made it to my bedroom and flopped on the bed a big heap of tears.

I must have passed out because when I woke up I felt Adri’s hand feeling my forehead and running her hand through my hair tenderly. A new round of tears began to fall as I remembered Nixon doing that every time he woke up beside me.

I heard her go to the bathroom and drop something that sounded like a bag in there. I sat up from the bed, trying to see through my big puffy swollen eyes.

“Adri what did I say? Leave me alone, I want to be ALONE. Please look up privacy in the dictionary on the way out.” I glared at her figure coming out of the bathroom, shielding my eyes from the burning light.

“I can always come back in the morning.”

My heart stopped beating. I ran toward the figure and almost tackled him to the ground.

He started laughing, “I thought I was the one who got the football scholarship.”

“Oh, just shut up and hug me!”

I buried my face in his chest as he chuckled and rubbed my back soothingly. “I thought you were gone.” I whispered as the last of my tears fell.

“I promised I’d come back to you didn’t I?”

I looked into his eyes and smiled. “You haven’t broken one before.”

He lifted me up and placed me on the bed next to him. “I don’t plan on it.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket placing it in my hand. “I remember promising you something back in eighth grade.” My hands were shaking, and I looked up at him with my eyes wide.

“I told you that once I was a big football star, I was going to marry you. Well, I got an offer from the San Diego Chargers to be their new quarterback. I know how much you love this little town, but would you like to start a life, a family with me on the beaches of California?”

“I will Nixon,” I said, bringing him into a passionate kiss. He smiled as we pulled away and then he opened the box and took the beautiful diamond out, sliding it into place on my left finger, where it would stay the rest of my life.
 

Saturday, January 15, 2011

SnappleApple450 Week 34: Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants You (Part 2)

SnappleApple 450
Saturday



Picture 1

Picture 2


SnappleApple 450's Choice: Picture 2


Title:
Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants you? (Part 2)


I couldn’t say the plane ride made me think about my actions or made me want to change, but it did make me regret getting caught. I remembered seeing the newspaper cover of me in my polka dot underwear getting arrested. I had been doing a lap dance for a guy when the cops busted the party, catching me with alcohol and drugs. I don’t regret my fun life, but I regret certain actions at certain times. I still enjoyed doing lap dances for guys, feeling their discomfort grow in their pants before I’d leave them for the next guy. I just should have chosen my parties better. More discreet parties… I’d be back to partying as soon as I got home, and I couldn’t wait.


Bianca had passed out, resting her head on the driver’s shoulder. “Waaaaake uuuuup!” Corky’s voice rang.

She winced. “I will open my eyes and you better be out of my sight,” she threatened. She counted to five in her head and opened her eyes. Corky was grinning inches from her face.
“Come on out of the cold, Bianca,” she heard a female voice.

Bianca scooted out of the warm truck and made a mad dash for the light pouring from inside the house. She saw a fireplace and ran for it, hands outstretched.

“So…fucking…cold.”

Everyone chuckled, walking inside. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“You must have packed something warm in those suitcases,” the lady gave a laugh.

Bianca stared at her. “I didn’t expect my summer to be spent in the snow, to be quite honest,” she was very bitter, but the family was oblivious.

“Welcome to our home. I’m Mrs. Judy Bowers, this is my husband, John Bowers, and my two sons, Corky and Christopher.” Bianca looked at the boy sitting on the couch with his nose buried in a book. “Chris, show some manners. I’ll start on dinner while the boys get your bags unloaded.” Everyone left the room, leaving Chris and Bianca alone.

He raised his eyes and closed his book. “So you’re the infamous Bianca Stratford.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he smirked at her.

She was in a daze, staring at him. He had sea green eyes and his hair was wavy falling in his face, he had the perfect build that not even his turtleneck could hide. “Uh…” she didn’t remember the question. Was it even a question?

He chuckled. “Jet lag much?”

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “What would you know about it?” She countered.

“I went to New York once,” he leaned back. “Bunch of rich, uppity, annoying girls thinking the bigger their sunglasses, the flashier their clothes, and the more make-up they wear, the better they are.”

Bianca was already making mental plans to dump her sunglasses the first chance she got…all twenty pairs of them.

He chuckled as if to guess what she was thinking. “All you New Yorkers are the same.” He got up, dropping his book on the couch.

Bianca’s face heated up in anger. He judged her without even knowing her. “So that’s it? You’re going to condemn me and think you can walk off? You don’t know me!”

He stopped and turned around. “I know enough about you to say I don’t want to have anything to do with you.” He stepped towards her, matching her glare. “I can tell by your manicured nails, your perfectly plucked eyebrows, expensive clothes, and glossed lips,” he was inches from her face; any closer and he could probably taste what flavor her glossed lips were. “You’re no different.”

She didn’t know what to say as he walked away. “Don’t you have that saying ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ in this godforsaken place?” she yelled.

He chuckled, not turning around. “Out of curiosity, why are you here? I doubt it’s on account of good behavior.” And with that, he walked out.

He was right, but she wasn’t going to let him talk to her like that. “Asshole!” she yelled, feeling defeated. She pulled her cell phone out to make a call to her best friend.

“Uh-uh that won’t work here,” Mr. Bowers came in laughing.

Bianca slammed her phone shut and shoved it in her pocket. “Of course not,” she grumbled.

“Where did Chris go?”

Bianca glared at the man. “With any luck, he walked over a cliff.”

Mr. Bowers laughed again. “Nah, there are no cliffs for miles!”
Bianca’s anger deepened. “Water he can drown in,” she continued to plot.

“Frozen solid.”

“Avalanche?”

“That would require a mountain.”

Bianca huffed, falling onto the couch.

“Sorry sweetie, whether you like it here or not, you can’t kill my son. He just doesn’t know you. He’s shy to strangers. He’ll warm up to you.”

“I’d rather he stay out of my way.”

“That’s not gonna happen either. He’s sorta in charge of you for two months.”

Bianca’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

Mrs. Bowers walked in,lacing her arm around her husband. “We felt it would be best for the both of you…” she paused as her husband finished her sentence.

“If you played together, and he could teach you - show you that drugs are not the answer and how full your life can be.” They smiled at each other.

Bianca gave a look somewhere between a blank stare and burning fury. “That doesn’t make any sense, and I’m not addicted to drugs. I’m just here to fulfill my sentence and go on with my life.”

“Mr. Stratford asked me personally to straighten you out. I intend to return his daughter in the right mindset and attitude.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Then setting me with that,” she caught her tongue before saying something else, “son of yours is the wrong way to do it.”

Mrs. Bowers chuckled, “Nonsense! You’ll love each other by the time this summer is over!”

Bianca glared daggers at her. “Where’s my bedroom? I think I’ll turn in early.”

“Oh but dinner is almost ready!” Mrs. Bowers fussed. “We’re having fish.”

Bianca stood up. “I’m a vegetarian.”

They shared a look of confusion about what to do now, before Mr. Bowers stood up too. “I’ll show you your room, but you won’t like it.”

“It gets me away from—“

Mr. Bowers opened the bedroom door and she saw Chris lounging with a book, listening to music.

She backed away from the door. “Hell no.”

“Now Miss Stratford, I know it’s not like your house back home, but he’s offered to let you sleep on his top bunk.”

Chris, without looking up, replied. “I did not, you forced me.”

Mr. Bowers chuckled, slightly embarrassed. “Well I hope you guys get along.” He pushed her into the room and closed the door.

“Might as well bar the door,” she grumbled.

Chris chuckled emptily. “No point. If you run, you’ll die before you see civilization.”

Bianca leaned against the door and slid to the ground. “This is Hell.”

“I would think California would be since it’s hotter,” he smirked.

“Why’d you say California?” She asked suspicious.

He sat up, kicking his feet over the side of his bed. “I do believe you told a reporter that’s where you’re going for the summer.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been reading up on me?”

Chris chuckled. “When I heard I was going to have to share the same state as you, I researched.”

Bianca scoffed. “Research, right!”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you insinuating?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying anything.” She pulled her bags towards the dresser and opened a drawer.

Chris quickly jumped from his bed and slammed the drawer shut. “This is mine.”

She tried to open the next one down. He moved his entire body in front of her, blocking her access to the dresser.

“So so where do my clothes go?” She stuck her hand on her hip and glared.

He looked shock. “You mean there isn’t a pop-up dresser in one of your bags?”

She huffed, slamming her bag against him and moving to the bed. He groaned in pain but raced to the bed.

“Bottom bunk is mine too.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You expect me to climb to my bed?”

He nodded happily.

“Bite me,” she mumbled.

“No thanks. I’d prefer not to touch you. There’s no telling what kind of New York scum you have on your body.”

She rolled her eyes as she unzipped one of her bags. “Don’t I get off for good behavior?”

He fell down onto his bed, resting his head on his hands. “That usually only goes for jail and actually requires good behavior.”

She pulled out her robe and nightgown and concealed it in her hand. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall on the left,” he mumbled.

She snuck out of the room with her robe and ran to the bathroom. Once she was dressed in the purple lace nightgown with the long slit up the side, she pushed her boobs up, and fluffed her hair before wrapping the robe around her body and scooting back to the room.

She closed the door and slid her robe off seductively, letting it fall to her feet. Chris didn’t even look up from his book. She walked over to the foot of his bed and smiled demurely. “When I said good behavior, I meant good in bed.”

He finally looked up and stared at her. “And when I said I wouldn’t touch you, I meant touching of any kind.“ He pulled the book back up.

Bianca’s face grew red with anger. “Fuck you.”

“I just turned you down, Bee, quit asking,” he mumbled.

She clenched her hands into fists and climbed up to her bed, pulling the covers over her head. She hated Christopher Bowers. There was no way they’d ever get along.