I Wish I Was Esme Week 34: Red Tara

I Wish I Was Esme
Tuesday


Picture 1

Picture 2


I Wish I Was Esme's Choice: Both


Title: Red Tara
They were tearing it down today, the summer house were I spent every waking moment at as a teenager. I knew it would happen one day but never expected it to happen while I was still alive. It was the place where I met the love of my life, had my first kiss and even where I lost my virginity. Back then, that was scandalous being unwed and sleeping with someone, especially without protection.

It was a time of great sadness, one that could kill you if you let it. The stock market had crashed and it seemed the whole country was in chaos. None of this had touched me, my father worked for the greatest president there had ever been, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. I had the great honor of meeting him and his wife on many occasions, they had a peculiar relationship. She knew of his many affairs yet, she stood with him and supported him. As a young adult I idolized them, I thought that I wanted to have a relationship like theirs, but I was wrong. I didn’t really want a husband that cheated on me; I wanted to have that light that she had inside her that was ablaze even in the darkness.

The first time I saw her, I was fourteen. My parents were hosting a dinner and I was supposed to be in my room. But I wasn’t, I was on the stairs peaking through the rails, looking at all the beautiful women dressed in gowns. The music was loud and there were politicians everywhere, dancing with their young wives. I was jealous, I wanted to waltz with a boy who was going to ask for my hand, dancing in pretty dresses and putting on Mama’s pearls. I was so entranced with the beauty of it all that I didn’t notice a woman standing next to me.

“And who might you be, little one.” Stunned, I just stared up at the tall woman. “Are you lost?” she asked me, bending down so that she was at eye level with me.

Still unable to talk, I just shook my head, praying that she wouldn’t tell Mama.

“Well then, if you’re not going to talk, I’ll talk for you. My name is Eleanor, and I have a son a few years older than you.” She looked at me with a sparkle in her eye.

“Miss?” I finally drew up the courage to ask her something. “Why are you up here when there is so much going on downstairs?”

“Well, all those stuffy politicians annoy me. It’s nice to talk to someone that’s not mixed up in all this trouble.”

We talked about dolls, and dresses, and a lot of other things before Mama found us. She scolded me and took Eleanor back to the party. I didn’t care that I was in trouble or that people were wondering where my companion had been, all I cared about was that she talked to me. Someone had finally listened to what I had to say, instead of just getting a pat on the head I had gotten an actual discussion!

Life had gone on faster after that conversation. It seemed as if everyone and everyone was too busy to talk or even think. Two years had passed since that day at the party. My parents had started pushing boys on me, trying to find a possible suitor. I had been resisting the attention though, because I hadn’t found anyone I could stand to be with for longer than an hour. I knew Mama and Papa were disappointed in me. they had invited all the politician’s sons to parties at the house, hoping that I would fancy one of them. They were all stuffy and depressing though. We were leaving for our summer house near the jersey shore in a few days, and they were hoping to invite more people to come see me then. I was dreading it. All I wanted was to be left alone to sit on the beach and bask in the sun.

As I lay in bed that night, I wished for my parents sake that they found someone I could be cordial to, so we could quit this nonsense. Mama had been making me dress up everyday, and I wasn’t allowed to even tend to my own garden. I knew these things were to be expected of someone my age, yet I longed for my childhood. Longed for the days where I played in the mud with the neighbor boys, when they didn’t act embarrassed to be around me.

The next two days passed by in a sloth-like manner, slow and uneventful. Preparations were made, and dresses were prepared for me. I hated every second of it. It was as if I was living in a cage, only no one cared enough to notice my depression. They were too preoccupied with all their plans. I felt like the little child at a family gathering, stuck in the corner by myself. My feelings were selfish; there were families that were living in poverty at the moment. People that couldn’t afford food, and I was complaining when I had everything I could ever want, except happiness.

The ride to Jersey was long but beautiful, the green scenery refreshing. Mama was in the front seat with Papa, while I was left to my own devices in the backseat. I had brought a book with me that I had heard was good. Papa was talking about it with his buddies. It was a scandalous book that I felt I had to hide. Anna Karenina - by a Russian man by the name of Tolstoy. By the first page I had become enraptured. It was the English translation which saddened me, but my Russian wasn’t good enough to read a novel. Before I knew it, we had arrived at the beach house; it looked the same as always - bright red and regal. It stood two stories and was home.

It had been my sanctuary, a place to come in the summer and escape the reality of life. The hardships of life seemed to melt away when I saw it. My mom had called it the Red Tara, after her favorite book, Gone With The Wind. I think she liked to imagine she was Scarlet and from the south. Mama always did have a flare for the dramatics.

I quickly stashed my book in the knapsack I had brought with me. Then I dashed out of the car and into the house, my face alight with happiness.

“Emelia, don’t go too far. We are going to have brunch soon,” Papa told me. Then chuckled as he saw me race up the stairs to my room.

My room was perfect, it had a large bed and sitting area - even my own radio! There was a balcony that overlooked the gardens on the far end of the room. The linens were white, and there was lace everywhere. Sighing, I flopped down on my bed, knowing that it wasn’t proper yet and not caring. A sort of peace had come over me, like someone lifted all my worries off of me. I felt energy that I hadn’t felt in months come over me.

“Lia, come downstairs. We have visitors.” Rolling my eyes at my mother’s voice, I obeyed, straightening my clothes and hair before walking gracefully down the stairs. There, I met the most gorgeous hazel eyes I had ever seen. My own blue eyes paled in comparison. His jet black hair was messy and unkempt. Suddenly, I felt very self conscious of my blond hair and blue eyes, they seemed ugly compared to his utter beauty. This beautiful man stared back at me as if he was just as entranced as I was.

“Emelia, this is John, he is senator Nichol’s son.” Papa introduced us, then we headed to the dining room, the maid had prepared omelets and french toast. John and I were seated next to each other, and at our parents prodding we were soon in a lengthy discussion about my gardens back home. He was perfect, and ignited my senses in a way that no one else could. By the end of brunch, I knew he was the one for me. He was charming and sweet and the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

Over the next weeks, John came to see me everyday and stayed hours. We talked about the future and our plans. How many kids we wanted, where we wanted to live, even what he was going to study while I waited for him at home. He told me of the gardens we would grow. I decided that I was ready to be with him completely. He didn’t know it then, but I planned to seduce him.

However, he sidestepped me whenever I tried to kiss him, as if he knew what I was attempting. Finally, a week after I had started, I completed my task. We made love when my parents were out for a walk. It was the most beautiful thing in the world. We had finally become complete in a way that mated us forever. He was gentle and loving and made sure that I wasn’t in pain. We didn’t use a contraception, yet I felt confident that we would be married within the coming years so I didn’t care.

Meanwhile, I had noticed that John had started getting weak. He told me that he was under the weather, so I just believed him. What else could I do? Our love had blossomed into something great and we were happy; nothing was going to happen to him.

That was, until he collapsed at a party my mother had thrown. They called an ambulance, and I refused to leave him, even riding with him to the hospital. For four agonizing nights they studied him and took tests to see what was wrong. I stayed right inside his door, not caring what was ‘proper’ or not. I was on the verge of a mental breakdown, watching him fitfully try to sleep and failing.

On the fifth day, a doctor came and told me the news - he had lung cancer. I was furious, he didn’t even do anything wrong; he didn’t deserve this. Yet I stood by him, even though my parents wanted me to start seeing someone else. He would fight this.

And fight he did, for seven years he fought. We were married in the hospital when I was 18, and we had one daughter when I was 22 - Sarah, named after my grandmother. Shortly after Sarah turned one, John succumbed to the cancer and died. It was the hardest thing in the world, having to bury him, but I stayed strong for our daughter. My parents kept telling me that I was still young and could marry again, yet I refused.

He was the love of my life and always would be.

-sixty years later-

I came back to Red Tara one last time, to see it before it was torn down. Sarah had accompanied me, for I was in a wheelchair. I sat in my chair and watched as they tore down the one place in the world that had ever made me happy. Then I did as I always had; I kept strong, said my goodbyes, and left.

Destinee Week 33: The End

Destiny Cullen
Sunday


Picture 1

Picture 2


Destiny Cullen’s Choice: Picture 1


Title: The End
There I was, standing outside our house in the dead of night. The rain was pouring down and chilling me to the bone, but I didn’t have the mind to care. My hair clinging to the side of the face, and all I could think was that this was the house we shared together for six months. That was until he found a slut to occupy his time.

He left me for her, left our two year relationship all for a piece of ass. What was the excuse he told me?

“Babe, I love you but I love you like a sister. It took me a year to figure it out, but I don’t love you like you love me. You consume all of me and I can’t take it. I care for you I do. But I just can‘t do it anymore. I‘m sorry, Erika.”

I just didn’t fucking believe it. I was here for one reason, and that was to take him back. Two years together has to mean something. I glared through the window as the lights in the kitchen flickered on then the living room lights soon after. That’s when I saw them all over each other like horny teenagers.
I glared at her blonde hair swaying as he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. I could see he was already excited and ready to fuck her like the slut she was. That was when I saw her face.

It was Clarissa…my sister. My heart stopped and my breath caught in my throat. Then I thought of what he said to me. I love you like a sister.
More like he fucking left me for my sister. Pure hatred boiled in my veins as my vision turned blurry and tinged red.

I backed away from the window and headed toward the back yard where I stored the spare key. I lifted the heavy stone and grabbed the small piece metal, heading to the back door.

The key slid into place, and I turned it, gaining me entrance. Once the door was opened, I could hear the slapping of skin and pleasurable moans coming from upstairs.

I guessed they decided to take it upstairs. I gave a short laugh and climbed the stairs, looking down the hallway to where the bedroom was. I walked toward the light and stepped on a light blue shirt.

I picked it up to get a closer look and recognized it as one I lent Clarissa for a date. As I remember she said she had a ‘Hot Date’. My blood burned hotter as I threw the shirt down and slid quietly into the master bedroom.

I sneaked along the wall to get further in the room. I looked at the bed all I saw were the sheets rhythmically moving. I glared at the offensive black silk sheets until I ran into the chest of drawers and the movement stopped on the bed.

“What the hell was that?” I heard Michael shout.

“It was probably nothing Mike. Come on I was close.” Clarissa said seductively.

I laughed when Michael was ready to dismiss the noise. “Yes, don’t mind me.”

Clarissa screamed and threw Michael off of her and she grabbed the sheet to cover herself. Michael picked himself off the floor covering himself up with a pillow that fell on the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Erika?” He asked.

I looked at Clarissa. “I should be asking what are you doing here Clare? I thought you had a hot date tonight.” Clarissa looked away from my eyes, not saying a word, but I could feel Michael’s eyes on me.

“I said what the hell are you doing in my house, Erika? I’m going to call the police if you don’t answer me. You know what, I don’t give a shit. Call them Peanut.”

“Peanut?! Did you just call her Peanut?! I can’t believe you! That was the nickname you gave me! You couldn’t even make up a new one for my sister that you’ve been sleeping with since god knows when.” I glared at him and stalked over to him ready to hit him square in the face when my sister caught my attention.

“You’re just jealous, Erika. He wanted me instead of you.”

“Wait? You’re crazy if you think he wants you as more than just a piece of ass, Clare.” I heard Michael’s deep laugh and turn towards him once again.

“That’s all you were, Erika. A piece of ass.”

I felt as if a was hit in the chest, I stumbled back into the chest of drawers once again. That’s when a thought crossed my mind.

I don’t want to live if I can’t have Michael.

I reached behind me and opened the top drawer and pulled the handgun from underneath the socks stored in there.

Michael put his hands up fear in his eyes. “What are you doing, Erika? You don’t want to do this. Put the gun down.”

A harsh sound came out of my mouth that sounded like a wicked version of laughter. “Actually I do. If I can’t have you, no one will. Do you understand that? Not even my sister!” I pulled back the hammer and re-aimed it to his chest.

“Please, no Erika! No--” His pleas were cut short as the lead bullet pierced his chest. It was deathly quiet as he looked at me in shock then collapsed on the floor. That’s when Clarissa’s screams started.

I pointed the gun at her. She stopped screaming, but the sobbing continued. “Why?” She yelled in-between the crying fits. “Why did you kill him, you bitch?”

I glared at her. “Because of you! You took him away from me you, little succubus! If it wasn’t for you, he’d still be alive!” I was waving the gun in her face, and she shut up remembering that I chose if she lived or died.

I had the gun trained on her while I glanced down to see Michael on the floor already turning white. I don’t know how long I stood there, looking at how his white body clashed with the crimson of the dead blood, but before I knew it, I saw Clarissa’s head snap toward the door and a police officer with a gun pointed to my head. “Put the gun down, and kick it towards me.”

I dropped the gun obediently and kicked it toward him. He put his gun back in his holster and grabbed my wrists forcing them behind my back. I grunted in pain as he forced them higher up my back so I couldn’t move them.

Once he reached for his handcuffs, I twisted so I could kick my leg back and wrench my arm free. He was shocked by my sudden movement, and I pulled free of his hold, reaching for his gun. I pointed it at him, “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you! I swear I will!”

He nodded, but once I glanced at Clarissa, he lunged for me. I squeezed the trigger as he still slammed into me. I pressed the trigger two more times, until he stopped moving. I heard Claire’s whimper from the bed and I pushed the officers limp body off of me.

Clarissa screamed and I picked up the gun and trained it on her once more. I looked at the bodies and blood surrounding me before smiling at my sister. “See you in hell Claire.” She started to scream.

I pressed the trigger and my sister’s screams were cut short. The life drained from her eyes as her blood left her body. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the trigger one last time. A flash of white was the last thing I saw.

SnappleApple450 Week 33: Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants You (Part 1)

SnappleApple 450
Saturday

Picture 1

Picture 2


SnappleApple 450's Choice: Picture 2


Title: Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants you? (Part 1)
Who do you go when nobody wants you? Where do you go when nobody cares what happens to you? Oh sure, people say they love you, but they all are in it for a reason. I think for me, Bianca Stratford, it’s for money. Being a wealthy heiress has its perks, but don’t knock it til you tried it. People say money makes the world go round. I say it makes the world blind. So what do you do when when your blind? You grope in the dark for the answer.



“Remind me why I have to go to this place again?” Bianca asked, popping her gum with a manicured nail.

Mrs. Stratford kept driving, eyes on the road ahead. “Because it’s going to keep you out of trouble for summer break. It’ll teach you a lesson.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Lesson learned. Don’t get caught.”

Her mother’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I hope a summer spent here will teach you the good moral values we seem to have not taught you.”

“You of all people want to talk about ‘good moral values’?” Her fingers made air-quotations to emphasize her sarcasm.

Mrs. Stratford turned to glare at her daughter. “That’s entirely different, Bianca, and I refuse to have this conversation with you.”

“You mean the conversation about you and my ex-boyfriend?” Bianca’s voice raised an octave in heated anger.

She slowed the car down at the airport entrance. “I’ll see you in six weeks and I expect a drastic change in your behavior.”

Bianca got out and glared at her mom. “Fuck you.” She slammed the car door before her mom could reply. Bianca dragged all 16 of her bags out of the car just as her mom drove off.

An airport worker came out with a cart to load the bags onto. “What flight are you on?”

“Flight 666,” she mumbled, grabbing her purse. The man didn’t get it. She rolled her eyes. “Whatever flight is going to Alaska?”

He nodded, pushing her bags through the door. “You’re not excited about a vacation in Alaska? I heard it’s great this time of year. What part are you going to?”

“The cold part,” she snapped. The man learned to shut up.

Once Bianca was on the flight in her seat, she sighed. She only had who knew how many hours before she reached Alaska and she dreaded every one of them, every inch that brought her closer. Bianca couldn’t even remember how she got in this mess, being shipped off. It wasn’t fair. All she did was skip school to go to this party with her friends. She didn’t expect for the cops to come and frisk her, finding loads of weed, not to mention she was stoned and under-aged. Her dad was furious—as always—and her mom expected it.

Bianca came from a rich, well-known family in upstate New York; they had an image to uphold and nobody knew just how imperfect their life was. Now she was heading to some unknown part of Alaska, scenic nowhere. She actually had to Google the place, not that she remembered the name anyway. Apparently her dad did business up there and one of his workers offered to take her and “teach her”, whatever the hell that meant.

She was almost legal age and in seven weeks it would be her birthday. She was leaving New York and moving to California when she turned 18; leaving all the drama of the Stratford family behind. She couldn’t say anything, god knows she couldn’t. Bianca was the party-hard daughter always in the Tabloids. To say she wasn’t spoiled would be a huge lie and she loved it. She hated leaving her baby blue convertible back home, but she had no use for it where it was snowing. She was going to freeze her ass off.

The plane landed in the dark runway, pitch black outside. She had changed plans three times, downgrading each time to a smaller plane. Why she couldn’t just take the family jet was beyond her. Probably because they knew she’d take it and not go to Alaska.

“Last stop, Miss Stratford.”

She unhooked her seatbelt and unsteadily clambered off the plane. “Jesus Christ, it’s cold!” She yelled.

The man chuckled, taking his coat off. “You knew you were coming this way, why not bring a jacket?” She grabbed his big coat and bundled her arms in it. “Come on, your ride is waiting.”
His jacket smelled of smoked fish; disgusting. A small red truck was idling off the runway a bit.
“I’ll go get your bags and load them up.” The man walked back to the plane as she leaned against the truck door.

“You’re Bianca Stratford, aren’t you? Of course you are. You look like it.”

She jumped from the truck, cursing under her breath. A boy a couple years younger than herself was hanging out the window.

He shoved a hand out. “I’m Corky Bowers, nice to meet you.”

Bianca pulled the coat tighter and ignored him. Back in New York, this kid was similar to the freshmen that would transfer from other cities, or even worse the small towns. Only this time, she was the new kid in a small town. Was there even a town nearby?

“You’ll be—“

“How do I ‘look’ like Bianca Stratford?” She interrupted him.

“You look like a rich, stuck up snob,” the older man came around with an armful of perfectly monogrammed luggage.

“Bite me,” she crossed her arms. “And what kind of name is Corky anyway?”

The kid laughed. “It’s my kind of name!”

She gave a slight nod to show that she heard him but didn’t have a good response.

“So how old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“I’m thirteen.”

“Fascinating.”

“My older brother is closer to your age.”

“Hmm sixteen?” She was sarcastic and didn’t care what he was saying.

“Close. He’s 18, just a year older than you.”

Bianca’s interest peaked slightly. “What’s his name?”

“Chris Bowers and he’s not happy about you coming at all.”

Bianca glared. “That makes two of us.”

“Alright we’re all loaded,” the man dusted his hands off and opened the truck door. “Get in.” He waved her in.

She slid in next to Corky, who was grinning and bouncing in his seat.

“We’ll be to your new home in no time, Miss Stratford.” He let the brake out and drove off down a stretch of blackness.

Kimmydon Week 33: Counting

Kimmydon
Wednesday
Picture 1

Picture 2


Kimmydon's Choice: both


Title: Counting
Something was bothering Beth. I didn’t know what, but she’d been preoccupied for a week. She was jumpy, too, unusual for her. Tonight was my night in the gym. She was catching a ride with Mary to a girls’ night at the movies and would meet me at home. Gary sensed my discomfort, which stemmed from hers.

“What’s gotten up your butt?” he asked as I was spotting him on the bench press.

“Nothing,” I mumbled.

“Bullshit. Something’s wrong.”

“Something, but I don’t know what,” I admitted nervously.

He smiled and pushed the bar up again. “Don’t like the unpredictability of married life?”

I snorted. “Yeah, really unpredictable.” I guided it back into it’s rest.

He chuckled. “I suppose. Go to work, go to bed, go to work, go to bed, sex on Tuesdays.”

I punched him in the gut.

He grunted and laughed harder. “Oh? Thursdays, too?”

I shook my head. “You don’t know half.”

“Oooh, that means four days a week. Are they scheduled?” His grin wasn’t malicious at all, just teasing.

“Only a few. I mean, if she’s going to tie me up, we need to know we’ll have time.”

He choked on the water he’d just drank. “What?! Shit, man, you can’t drop something like that on me with no warning. What the hell?!”

I shrugged. “I said ‘if.’” I grinned suggestively now.

“Oh, man, that’s just fucked up. You let her tie you up? What does she do to you?”

I silently took my place under the bar and began lifting. “We can do a lot in a year.” Had it really been that long since I invited her in and refused to let her go? Counting reps, I also counted months. At twelve, I put the bar down. “Yeah, a year. Wow.”

Gary still had a stupid look on his face. “What does she do to you?”

I sneered at him. There was no way I was going into detail. “What, you have no imagination? Google it, jeez.”

He didn’t ask anymore. He didn’t say much of anything for the rest of the evening and ran for the showers as soon as we were done. I decided to run the elliptical a little longer.

How long had Beth been acting differently? When had it started? I couldn’t quite pin down a day, but it had been last week. Had anything else changed? Work was the same, end of quarter messes to untangle. Those usually made her happier though. Home was good. Some small repairs to the house, nothing major, nothing we couldn’t handle ourselves. Her family was good, at least the last time I saw them. Hell, Terry had visited just a few weeks before, so she wasn’t missing him either. What was it, and why did it continue to bother her?

When something tripped her up, she might be out of sorts for a day or two, until she nailed down what it was and how to fix it. Like when we found out that we had a pipe leaking in the basement. We knew something was wrong down there, and there were couple uneasy nights. As soon as she located the leak, though, everything smoothed out. We got supplies, made repairs, done and done. It had to be people related. Maybe Jamie? Something was going on with her and Brian.
I remembered Beth coming home in a horrible state one day, but she wouldn’t tell me what had happened. Just that it involved Jamie, Brian and Mary. How that worked, I didn’t know. If Gary did, he wasn’t saying. My guess was he didn’t either. Maybe a date mishap? She was supposed to go out with Brian but made plans with Mary by mistake? Knowing Jamie, it could be anything. She didn’t seem to stay put on anything for long.

Worn out, I hit the showers. My phone had a text on it.

Home early. Going to bed. Don’t wake me? -B

Don’t wake her? Something was seriously wrong. I skipped the shower, thinking to do it when I got home.

Tiptoeing into our room, I did my best to obey her request. She was sobbing very quietly into her pillow.

“Beth? Baby, what’s wrong?” I knelt by the bed, stroking her hair and back.

She stilled quickly. “Nothing. It’s not wrong. It’s fine. I just... I’m not ready yet.”

Frowning, not knowing what to say to that, I kissed her head. “Tell me when you are, please. I want to help.”

She nodded, sniffling. “Ewww. Go shower,” she complained turning her head.

I chuckled and obeyed.

The next morning she seemed to be doing better. Up before me, as usual, she had made breakfast, something she hadn’t done in a few days. No big deal, we just grabbed something on the way, but it had been one of the signs something was up. Maybe it was sorting itself out?
I didn’t say anything during breakfast or the drive to work, afraid of setting her off, but I made a point to ask her on the way home. Not being able to help her was driving me insane.
She buckled up after work, smiling. “Good day?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Usual. Looks like you had a good one.”

She grinned. “Yep, fixed up the files Finance screwed over, got a new program from one of the analysts that’s going to make my life SO much easier. Good day.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek, her hand on my thigh.

It felt like a weight had lifted with that simple gesture. It seem that whatever had been looming over both of us was gone. Of course, I still had no idea what it was, and that bothered me.

“Beth,” I asked, “what’s up?”

She looked at me quizzically. “Up?”

“Last night, last week, you haven’t been yourself.” I ran a hand over her ear, tucking her hair back.

She pinched her lips together, an anxious expression for her. “I... I’m not sure.... Not yet,” she whispered at the end.

I sighed heavily. “Okay.”

She smiled again, seemingly throwing the worry away. Her behavior was so ordinary, I didn’t really think of it again until we were in bed, after we were in bed. She was naked, slick with sweat, head resting on my chest, the smell of us strong in the air. I kissed the top of her head and remembered the night before. Sleep eluded me as she drooled slightly, lost in her dreams.

In the morning, Saturday, I was groggy, cranky, and my wife was gone. I growled as I threw on pants and shirt. I didn’t bother with my hair, a true sign of my irritation, and thumped down to find her. The car was still in the garage, so she’d walked wherever she’d gone. I pulled out, circling the neighborhood. As I drove, I called her friends.

“Mary? It’s Peter. Did Beth have plans with you this morning? She didn’t mention where she was headed.” I tried not to sound like an over-protective or jealous husband. I doubt I succeeded.

“Not me.”

“Do you know if she had plans with Jamie?”

I heard her cough suddenly. “Um, no, I don’t know of any. I’m going to have to let you go, Peter. Sorry, water’s boiling.” The line disconnected. That was weird. I headed to her place, thinking maybe Beth had gone there and she was covering for her or something.

Mary’s car was absent from in front of her building and I dialed up Jamie as I headed to her place. Something was definitely going on.

“Hello?”

“Jamie, do you know where Beth is?”

“I am not her mother, Peter. She is not here and you can keep right on driving.” I shook my head as the line went dead again. She was so strange. Mary’s car was parked outside the building. I found a spot and climbed the stairs.

My phone rang as I finished the first flight. “She is not here.” Jamie said in a flat tone. I continued to climb and she stood in the open door, dressed in a robe. “You know you are being ridiculous,” she said, not looking at me and turning back into the apartment. Mary sat with Brian, who I’d only met a couple times before, at the kitchen table, both sipping coffee. Mary’s mug had an interesting heart-shaped handle that would have suited Beth.

“Water’s boiling?” I asked Mary, cocking an eyebrow.

“How do you make coffee?” she asked, her blonde hair fell forward to hide her face.

I turned to the man. “Brian. I’m sorry to interrupt, but the way these two were dodging me, I thought for sure she was here.”

He nodded, but didn’t seem to want to answer.

“Sorry to bother all of you,” I grumbled and turned to leave. It was only then that I noticed Jamie stroking Mary’s back and whispering something to her. Mary leaned into the other woman’s belly, and hugged her around the waist, burying her face in the robe.

“Is she okay?” I asked Brian.

“She will be,” he said, not looking away from his coffee.

“Peter,” Jamie said with a sad sigh. What had brought her down all of a sudden? With Jamie, who knew. “She’s at her high school, JFK. Get out of here, please.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that-”

“Because I just figured it out!” she snapped at me. “Get the hell out of my house, Peter!” She shoved me suddenly and I stumbled out the door, which slammed in my face. So strange.

Realizing once again that I would never understand her, I ran down the flight to my car. I knew where JFK was, although I’d gone to Middleton High myself.

I saw her, leaning on a rail, staring out over the nearly leafless trees. They were shedding their foliage earlier this year. What was she doing? What was going on? I climbed slowly, making sure she saw and heard me approach.

“Beth? Are you okay?” I asked before reaching out to hug her.

She smiled and opened her arms to me. “Do you know what today is?” she asked.

I held her waist in my hands and tipped my head to hers in relief. “What is today?” I didn’t even try to guess. One year since our walk in the park? One year since we went fishing?

“Today is the day I finally got the courage to check.”

My brow furrowed. “Check what?”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a stick. “Do you think he or she might come here one day?”

I stared at the pregnancy test, utterly flabbergasted.

What was different in the last week? She hadn’t had a period....

AJ Silent Voice Week 33: Your Likes, My Dislikes

AJ Silent Voice
Monday


Picture 1

Picture 2


AJ Silent Voice’s Choice: Picture 1

Title: Your Likes, My Dislikes

Sara slathered the chocolate hazelnut goodness onto two pieces of wheat bread and smashed them together. Jake wrinkled his nose as he picked up the container to smell it.

“You seriously aren’t going to eat that, are you? It looks like kiddie poo,” Jake said.

Sara pegged him in the shoulder and took a huge bite out of her sandwich. “Mm mm mm, look at that. It’s sooooo good!” She wiggled her face in front of his, making a big production out of chewing and swallowing, finally blowing in his face.

Jake coughed and pinched his nose. “You need, like, a case of tic-tacs. There’s no way I’m kissing you after that.”

She rolled her eyes and chugged a gulp of milk, smiling in satisfaction. She stood at the counter and he watched her, bite by bite, till it was all gone. Wadding up the paper towel, she took a jump-shot at the trashcan, sinking it the first time.

“Lucky shot,” Jake scoffed.

Sara stuck her tongue out at him and turned to put the Nutella back in the pantry, shaking her panty-clad ass. Jake gave her a good smack and she yelped.

They’d been living together about a month and Sara had to admit that things weren’t going too bad. They had their moments, of course, but who doesn’t? Jake worked at a local garage when he wasn’t taking classes in Port Angeles, and Sara just worked at the store. They made more than enough money to cover their bills, which was a first for Sara. It felt weird. There were times, too, that she didn’t want to take his money.

The first time rent came due, they had a huge blow out over who covers what. Sara made a point of telling him that she didn’t need him; she’s made it this far on her own. Of course, she meant to specify that she didn’t need his money, but sometimes things get convoluted.

But the make-up sex? Out of this world.

Since then, they had an envelope that bill money goes into, and each keep their own extra money. That way, Jake said, they both contribute, but Sara can keep her independence.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Sara asked, turning and leaning against the cabinet. Jake stood across from her, clad only in pj pants. His shirtless form always caused Sara’s breath to catch in her throat. She had to restrain her hands from rubbing across his abs and caressing his pecs like crazy. Some days, she actually won that battle. Most days, she couldn’t keep her hands off him.

He stepped up close to her, a little close for casual conversation, and, laying his hand firmly on the small of her back, pulled her into his body. Her eyes closed as she leaned into him. She breathed deep, the smell of his body, so clean and natural, lulled her into submission.

He ghosted his hands along her thin, cotton shirt, until he touched bare skin. She squirmed against him...right against him, and he groaned. When their lips finally met, they were hungry and deep, fast and hard, looking for something to ease the ache.

Sara edged her fingers around the waistband of his pants, slowly, with promise. He backed her into the cabinet forcefully, lifting her up, putting the object of her affection out of her reach. She groaned this time, but Jake just chuckled. He held her weight against his hips, ridding her of her shirt and splaying his hands out across her ribcage. She revelled in his touch, leaning her head back, feeling the heat from his hands warm her skin.

He pushed his hands under her breasts, lifting them, and let the pads of his thumbs brush across her nipples. With each pass, they firmed under his ministrations and he smiled, proud of the things he made her body do. He doubted he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight. He kneaded her soft flesh, rewarded with her hips pushing into his erection.

Bliss, he thought, grinding himself against her, creating friction for them both.

Giving her nipples a hard pinch, she hissed as he moved his hands lower, until he’d shimmied her panties off her hips and down her thighs, exposing her to his wandering fingers. He couldn’t get them off, though, without removing himself from this wonderful situation, so he popped the sides and she yelped, but didn’t act like she minded. Dropping the offensive material to the side, he cupped her, putting pressure on her pelvic bone, letting his fingers move up and down her slit and she moaned with abandon. She was so wet, and that drove him wild.

“I want to feel you,” she pleaded.

“No condom,” Jake confessed, leaning over and peppering kisses into the crook of her neck, one hand under her ass, as pushing her into him.

Taking matters into her own hands, she stretched her arms down, pulling his cock out above his pants, placing it against her wet slit.

“Oh God, Sara...fuck.” Jake thrust up against her, relishing the heat of her sex. She placed him between her lips, making the length of him glide smoothly between. The sensation sent her head reeling, and she clung to him as he moved back and forth. She felt his warm breath against her shoulder as he panted, the feeling hitting him hard. He pulled back further, angling his hips down a bit, and the head hit her clit.

They both yelled, lost as he repeated the action over and over. She felt soft and hot, and he wanted so bad to sink into her and never leave, but this...this was amazing. He pulled her closer, increasing the pressure, and she began to thrust back into him. Her body was frantic, fevered, and he knew she was close.

“Yes, Jake...yes...please...,” she groaned.

Her voice broke in a strangled cry as she pushed his head into her breasts, humping him, riding out her orgasm. She shook as the head hit it’s mark once more, and Jake followed her with several grunts, feeling the slick heat of his cum mixed with hers drip down his balls. They both breathed heavy, Sara afraid that if Jake put her down now, her legs wouldn’t hold her up. He knew that, somehow, and cradling her to his chest, he carried them into the bedroom, depositing her softly on the bed. He crawled in after her, playfully scooting her over, and attacking her mouth with his, hungry for more.

She laughed and wrapped herself around him, laying her head against his chest. “I thought you said you wouldn’t kiss me if I ate that sandwich.”

Jake chuckled and kissed the top of her head as they both drifted off into a bliss-induced morning nap.

Destinee Week 32: Diary or Tumblr?

Destiny Cullen
Sunday


Picture 1

Picture 2


Destiny Cullen’s Choice: Both


Title: Diary or Tumblr?
I pulled out my favorite purple pen and the opened the cover of my new diary.

What was I thinking?

The first sentence in my diary. I know you’re wondering why those would be my first four words. Well, let me enlighten you.

***

Six Months Earlier

“Alma you’re always writing stuff down in your little notebook over there. Whats so important you have to write it down?” Jocelyn asked.

I was almost tempted to ignore her but I knew she would just take my notebook away and read it herself. “Same thing other people on Twitter and Facebook believe. Our thoughts are important enough to write down and share with the world. But with me I cut out the share with the world part.”

Jocelyn giggled. “Girl you really should start an Internet diary. But anyway you remember Zane right? Well he is throwing a party in two weeks! And all the Seniors are invited!” She made baby eyes at me and with a sigh I closed my notebook and gave her my full attention.

“You have to come with me! Besides I’m your best friend and I’m just bitchy enough to steal your notebook and post copies all around school.”

I rolled my eyes and nodded. “You have tied my hands Jocelyn.” She pulled me up in a hug and spouted about all the things we were going to do at the party. “By the way Alma, you should really think about starting a computer diary so I can’t threaten you anymore.” She smirked and walked toward the parking lot as the last bell of the day rang.

I groaned thinking of the crap Jocelyn would make me wear. After the thirty minute drive to my house I threw my stuff in my room and jumped on my bed with my laptop. With Tumblr open I decided to start a private blog that would act as my diary.

I zoomed past all those stupid screens that ask you your name, email, gender, and where in the world you live. I laughed to myself as I wrote ‘Atlantis’ as my hometown. About twenty pages and one and half energy drinks later I was on my last page.

“Thank god! What ever happened to the good old days where you just had to fill out one page and boom you’re done?”

I rolled my eyes as they asked me if I wanted to keep it private or not, but of course only after ten billion ads and rapid clicking on my part I was finished! I took a deep breath and took a glance at the clock on the bottom of the screen.

“What? Only five minutes passed? I think my clock is busted!” I tapped it annoyed.

I rolled my head in a circle and popped my knuckles ready to start my new Internet diary. I wrote my personal thoughts and a few of poem and pictures that inspired them. After a few hours of that I sat back thinking it wasn’t that bad.

My days after school and the rare weekend where Jocelyn would let me stay at home. During the two weeks I got a hang of the format layout and how I wanted everything to look like. But I was confused when something popped up a few days after I created ‘Alma’s Crazy Corner’. I remember something about follower flashing across the screen before I pressed the big red X.

But tonight was the night of Zane’s party. I sighed and looked at the clock impulsively. “Great only two hours to write, shower, and have Jocelyn dress me like a doll.”

Taking another deep breath I brought my fingers on the keyboard and started to write about my day and how I loathed to go to a stupid party that no one would even do more than try to get into my pants. After my rant I posted it to my dashboard and closed down my computer awaiting my best friend from hell to arrive.

As if on cue she threw open my door yelling at me for not already being in the shower and washing the nerd look off. As if my glasses and beanie would ruin the fun at the party. Besides being pessimistic I smiled and jumped into the shower and when I got out I was on full auto pilot.

When she was done ‘fixing me up’ I glanced at myself in the mirror and I was little disappointed that I didn’t look like myself. I looked more like a high priced hooker.

“You like?” Jocelyn asked clearly proud of herself. “Um, yeah I look beautiful thank you so much Jay.” I gave a genuine fake smile and she swallowed it down as if nothing was wrong. She pulled me into a tight hug. “Now lets go! We can only be thirty minutes to an hour late!”

I tried to get into the spirit but I couldn’t so on the drive there I thought of really good excuses to to leave. Dog ate my homework? No that is for chemistry class! The biggest migraine/stomach ache ever? Works like a charm! I grinned as I figured out the perfect escape plan.

Jocelyn pulled up to the huge mansion looking house with teenagers out in the lawn holding red plastic cups with various alcoholic beverages inside. Once we got into the house the feeling that I had grew tighter in my stomach. You know the feeling. The feeling where you know you don’t belong here, it’s not your ‘scene’.

Once we hit the crowd in the living room the jocks swarmed onto Jocelyn for attention. I broke away looking for a familiar face either from English or Art Club. Lord knows I should be praying for someone to talk to that has something smart or witty to say.

“Alma?” I groaned and didn’t stop. I don’t want to pry off heavy, sweaty, beefy hands off my newly found cleavage.

“Alma is that you?”

“Yes!” I yelled without turning around. “Before you even try I don’t want to have sex with you and I don’t even want to be here right now.” I started to walk again when the guy behind me started to laugh.

“Always the same Alma, I was surprised to find you here.”

I narrowed my eyes and turned on my heel to ask this guy to nicely fuck off. But then I caught sight of his familiar hazel eyes and my breath caught in my throat.

“Yeah it’s me.” He smiled and brought his arms up for me to hug him and I ran into them to tackle hug him to the ground. But dismissing that fact that it was impossible since he was built like a college football player!

“Where the hell have you been Viktor?! I haven’t seen you since eighth grade, and man have you filled out!” I looked down from his eyes down his body noticing his sun kissed skin and the way the shirt hugged his defined chest.

“I could say the same thing about you Alma.” I smirked giving me the same look over. I flushed but recovered quickly. “What are you doing here in Tucson? I thought you had to move to Alabama.”

He smiled, apparently happy that I remembered him and where he went. “I did but we moved back my senior year since my Dad got another job here in town.” I hugged him again so happy that my best friend all through grade school was back with me.

“When did you get back? Why didn’t you stop by my house or call? You know we never change our number.” I giggled. He got a huge grin on his face and brought his lips to my ear to whisper, “I just flew in tonight.”

My eyes almost popped out of my skull. “What do you mean you just flew in? How did you know I was here? How did you even know how to get here?”

“There is a thing called Tumblr that you use religiously.” I narrowed my eyes. “Wait, you couldn’t of read my Tumblr it’s on private.” Viktor’s eyes held a smile and pure honesty. Then it registered, my diary was never private! And worst of all Viktor read all of my post and emo poems!

“You read everything? Even the stupid poems and entries about..” He put his finger to my lips to silence me. “My favorite is the one called Where I Lay.” I looked at him dumbfounded.

“I think I love you.” I blurted then flushed a bright red.

He laughed and pulled me into a hug. “How about we get out of here? This doesn’t really seem like the place you’d come willingly.” I shook my head. “My former best friend over there,” I pointed to Jay surrounded by guys. “Forced me or else she’d steal my diary.”

He wrapped his arm over my shoulders and guided me outside. “Let go to our jungle gym hang out. Want to stop by your house to change? You don’t look like yourself or very comfy.”

I beamed up at him, “I missed my best friend.” “And I missed you too” He leaned down and laid a soft kiss on my cheek.

***

So now that you know what I meant by my first four words I repeat myself. What was I thinking about replacing my best friend Viktor for someone who doesn’t accept me as I am?

But it has been six months since Viktor and I were reunited and five months since we were declared a official couple. But I got to go now, I got a hot boyfriend to go visit before we have to walk down the football field to grab our diplomas. Ta-ta dairy!

SnappleApple450 Week 32: Sex in a Text

SnappleApple 450
Saturday


Picture 1

Picture 2


SnappleApple 450's Choice: Both


Title: Sex in a Text
“Soup’s almost ready!” my older sister yelled from the kitchen.

My brother Max was getting dressed in the bedroom while I sat in the chair texting my boyfriend.

Nobody made a move towards the kitchen.

My sister yelled again. “Get in here and eat the food or it’s going to the hobo!”

“Feed it to the hobo! Feed it to the hobo!” We chanted.

I heard her metal spoon clatter on the stove in anger. “You don’t want to eat? Fine!” I slowly got up from my chair and peaked into the kitchen. She poured herself a bowl and dumped the rest in the trash. “Ungrateful brats!” She mumbled.

My phone vibrated signaling a text: meet me outside. I looked up at my sister and back at my phone. “I’m going out,” I said under my breath, grabbing my coat.

“Excuse me?” She leaned against the doorway angrily.

“Jack just texted me and--”

“Jack never stops texting you,” she interrupted.

“And we’re going out tonight. He’s waiting downstairs.” I finished.

“Well he can wait a little longer. Come sit down.”

I bit my lip, not knowing what she wanted. Last time she wanted to talk is was The Talk, which I can’t say prevented us from doing anything, it just made us a little more careful...most times.

“Sit down.” She patted the seat next to her. “Are you hiding anything from me?”

I stared at her blankly. Besides the fact that I drink and will sometimes on rare occasions smoke weed with some friends? “No,” I answered.

“You know I’m always here to talk. For anything,” she pushed.

I folded my hands on my lap, ignoring my vibrating butt as my phone received another text, probably from Jack. “Okay, I didn’t want to alarm you, you...I’m pregnant.” I got the reaction I wanted. Her eyes bugged out of her skull.

“You what?”

I laughed, jumping up before she could kill me. “Just kidding! Don’t wait up for me!” I bounded out the door and down the stairs of our apartment. Jack was waiting by his car, leaning against the hood of it, texting. When he saw me he shut his phone and smiled. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his lips.

“Hi!” I said.

He kissed me back and opened my door. “My parents are out of the house,” he winked.

I laughed. “So that’s why you wanted to see me.”

He jumped in the driver’s seat and smiled. “Figured it was too cold for the park so why not a warm bed?” He revved the engine and drove off to his house.

“When will your parents be back?” I asked, stretching my legs.

“They said they’ll be home around eight,” he grinned. “We’ve got two hours of uninterrupted alone time.”

I laughed again. “Sounds like you really had this thought out.”

“Not really. Just since they said ‘Jack, we’re going out and won’t be back till eight, no girls,’.” He imitated his mother’s voice. “’Why no mom, I think I’ll catch up on some schoolwork and turn in early.’ ‘Oh Jack you’re such a perfect child! We love you!’”

I laughed as he pulled up to his house. He jumped out and practically dragged me to the door.

“You want a beer?” He yelled as he ran to the kitchen.

I took off my jacket and laid it on the chair, kicking my shoes off. “Sure!”

I heard clanging around and he came out carrying some of his dad’s beer. I opened my can and drank it. He leaned in and kissed me, teasing me with his tongue.

I pulled away and gave him a stern look. “We’re nowhere near your bedroom.”

He rolled his eyes. “Bed…floor…bathtub…does it really matter?”

I smiled and took off towards the stairs. I downed the rest of my beer and threw it in the trash.

“Kitty, where are you?” I giggled; only he called me that, everyone else just called me Katrina. He showed up at the door with a smile. “Now can we resume?” He asked.

I shrugged a shoulder, walking up to him and pulling him towards the bed. We fell on top of his sheets as he kissed me; I smiled against his lips. Already his hands were roaming over my body. He pulled at my tight white shirt, lifting it up. His cool fingertips touching my bare stomach as they glided higher, pulling my shirt over my head, only breaking the kiss momentarily. I laughed against his lips as he tossed it to the floor. Seconds later, he was shirtless too, working on my pants.

“You know, you look so damn sexy in your skinny jeans but—“

I cut him off. “I know, they’re practically impossible to get off.”

He laughed, kissing me again. While I was helping him take his pants off—something very difficult while laying under him—I felt his phone vibrate.

“Just leave it,” he breathed against me as he trailed kisses down my body. I pulled it out and looked at the number quietly while he was busy sucking an area on my neck.

It was a text message from Rachel, my best friend; I recognized her number instantly. Slowly, I opened the phone to read the message. Jack pulled away and looked at me. He saw I had his phone and snatched it. I saw the words ‘hey baby let me know when she leaves’ before he took it away.

I looked at him confused. “I don’t understand,” I mumbled, sitting up. He wasn’t speaking, just waiting for me. “Since when does Rachel call you baby?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed deeply. “Maybe she got the wrong number or it was a joke, I don’t know.” He was still trying to save himself from being caught.

I slid to the edge of the bed and pulled my phone out. It had a new message from Jack, and I remembered it went off earlier while I was talking to my sister. I opened it while he got his shirt back on.

‘Parents gone till morning, Katrina’s coming over now though’

I looked back at him and he raised an eyebrow. “So she’s probably joking, huh.”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I’ll tell her not to text me anymore.”

I stood up, putting my clothes on. “You mean when you see her tonight?”

He frowned confused to how I would know that. I held my phone up. “You sent the wrong text to the wrong bitch.”

I walked out the door and headed downstairs, grabbing my coat and shoes. He didn’t follow me. I opened the front door just as Jack’s parents were walking up the steps; they were shocked to see me. I slammed the front door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Stinson, Jack wasn’t expecting you guys home tonight,” I smiled sweetly.

“Yeah we had a change of plans…” he faded.

“Well I was just leaving for good, but he has my best friend coming over later.”

His mom’s eyes narrowed. “Henry, I think we need to have a talking to Jack.”

I pulled my jacket on and smiled bitterly. “Have a good night.” I passed them, pulling my phone out to call home.

“Peggy? Can you come pick me up?” My voice shook slightly.

“Yeah what’s wrong? Where are you?”

I told her and started walking towards home. I texted Rachel three words ‘go to hell’ and deleted her number for good, along with Jack’s. My sister’s car peeled around the corner and parked when she saw me. I got in the car and wrapped my arms tightly around my chest.

“He was cheating on me with my best friend,” I said quietly.

She didn’t speak, she just kept driving. We made it to Sonic drive-thru and parked. Peggy ordered burgers, onion rings, and two large milkshakes; Reese’s and Butterfingers. We ate and listened to the old songs playing on the loud speaker.

“Want to go vandalize her car?” Peggy finally spoke with a devious grin.

I smiled at her, finishing off my drink. “This is why you’re my sister,” I chuckled as she pulled out towards Rachel’s house.