In love with Z

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7 Super-Short Stories in 7 Days: Friday

I was leaving the club when I saw it. Not that I knew exactly what I was looking at immediately, or what was happening -but it happened suddenly.

There were two of them, talking loudly, laughing. I was about to go in the other direction when I realized there was a third person: a woman. They were watching her, following her, I think.

Anyway before I knew it, they grabbed her; pushed her against a car and started smacking her, silencing her screams. I was frozen; I didn’t know what to do. So I just stood there and watched this all go down in front of me.

They shoved her in the backseat, I think I saw a gun or something, I’m not sure. It wasn’t until they got in the car that I felt brave enough to step further. I don’t know what I thought I could do, but I still didn’t try to find help -I needed to see what happened next.

But as I stepped forward, I realized I had made a mistake. Not because I thought I would be recognized, but because I recognized one of them.

I wish I could take it all back now, walked in the opposite direction without a second thought. But I can’t, and I’ll have to live with it forever. How can I tell the Police I saw my brother raping a woman?

7 Super-Short Stories in 7 Days: Thursday

The piercing ring snapped Kourtney out of one of the deepest sleeps a person could hope to have. She glanced at her phone thru slanted eyes, then the alarm clock:

“3am” she grumbled, grabbing the phone “What”?

“Are you sleeping”? The familiar voice asked

“Is that a serious fucking question”? Kourtney barked

The line suddenly went silent.

“What is it?” Kourtney asked gently

“I think…someone might be in your house”.

Kourtney sprang upright, clutching the phone as she wildly looked around the bedroom,

“What are you –“

The gleam of the butcher knife stopped her words short as it deeply plunged into her throat.

7 Super-Short Stories in 7 Days: Wednesday

October 15^th, 1998

Dear Lewis,

By the time you read this, it will be too late for you to do anything about it. I sent all the evidence to your wife, she’ll know. It’s almost funny when I think about it now, how stupid you thought I was. But that’s okay. Maybe it’s a good thing you underestimated me because I’m sure you didn’t see this coming. Maybe if you took the time to love me as I loved you, things would have been different. You could have been honest, but chose not too. Now you have to deal with what’s about to happen.

Oh, and in case you think your wife won’t believe me, trust me, she will. What I sent her cannot be held up for debate, and I’m sure the Police will feel the same way.

All the photos, chatroom conversations, recorded phone calls –documented.

Has your jaw dropped yet? Or are you trying to figure out how a “ditzy blonde” could get over on you?

Maybe if I didn’t pose as one of the 16 year-olds you were “talking to” I would have been as clueless as everyone else.

Burn in hell you sick bastard!

Love,

Sarah

7 Super-Short Stories in 7 Days: Tuesday

The streets were deserted as he pulled the duffel bag behind him. Daley anxiously waited in the window as she eyed him turning the corner; back to their house.

She bit her lower lip tearfully, hoping against hope she wouldn’t see that bag –but she knew she would. He always comes back with a new “package” every Saturday night when Elena works double shift at the Hospital.

It wasn’t always like this, Daley remembered a time when he was the most adoring father any daughter could hope to have. But suddenly he turned into someone she never knew.

He hastily strode up the walkway, to the left of the townhouse where a side door was already propped open for him. Daley shuffled to the kitchen, meeting her father in the doorway:

“This is the last time, right”? She asked with glistened eyes

He stared at the bag distantly, slamming it on the linoleum floor as if snapping out of a daze. Blood instantly crept out of the thick material, while John looked into his daughter’s eyes:

“I…don’t know.” 

7 Super-Short Stories in 7 Days : Monday

The bedroom was dark when I awoken.

I think I did it again.

The only thing present to me from the start was a numb pounding in my head, which happens after…

My hands ached, as if I’d beat the pavement. My bed felt cold and wet. Something sticky had matted my hair to the side of my face. As I lifted my hand into the bit of light seeping in the room, it only took me a split second to realize it was blood. Remnants of the evening came to me in snapshot flashes.

I remember going to the bar. I remember meeting a guy –did he buy me a drink? 

How did I get back home?

And more importantly, whom did I kill this time?

Where There's Smoke...

Seki didn’t mean to burn the house down, but it happened anyway. She barely had time to flick her freshly pulled hangnail before she realized what was happening.  Now all she could do is watch in horror and odd fascination from across the street as the drug house became enveloped with smoke.

“Fuck”. She muttered in the middle of a developing crowd, “Dammit”.

Excited chatter from onlookers drowned out her self-deprecation, while camera phones fanned out around her:

“This goin’ right on WorldStarHipHop.com”! A young girl yelled as she recorded the burning house

Other teens laughed in agreement: “World Star, World Star”!

“Wouldn’t it be fucked up if a crackhead was still in there”? Someone asked

“Hell yeah”! The camera girl giggled

Seki caught her breath. What if someone was still in there? She never considered that. Everything happened too fast. One minute she’s begging her mom to come home, the next minute flames were shooting out of Seki’s fingertips. Well, that got her to leave. Seki thought dryly.  At least her mother wasn’t doing God knows what for God knows who in that house anymore.  Now if only Seki could get those “episodes” under control...

The first time was sudden, as it has a tendency to be now; without warning, but with provocation.  A recycled argument with mom proved to be the final straw.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in 12 hours!” She shrieked, pointing towards the kitchen clock on the wall as if it would nod in agreement. A single blaze streaked from her index finger, finding it’s bull’s-eye on the number 2.  Both women, stunned into silence, stupidly stared at the melting clock as it slowly oozed away into a dark glop on the floor.  

A piercing crack! jolted Seki from her thoughts, as a blackened 1^st floor window split under the pressure of the unforgiving flames. It wouldn’t take much for the fire to rip through the dilapidated house. Echoes of “oh shit!” rippled from all corners of the crowd, but no one made a move to escape the possibility of shattering glass –not even Seki. She was transfixed. As much as she hated to admit it, the feeling of power drunkened her in a way that Medication, Shrinks, or exercise would never do.  

But the bigger problem still remained: How long would it take for her to be exposed?