Taken

This is an old flash fiction piece that I wrote and entered into a competition, which I completely forgot about until having a clear out of my word documents last night.

Taken

Her bare feet brush the patchwork of grass and soil beneath her: a slender figure swaying in the breeze, a dark shadow against the fiery orange of the setting sky. Later they will hear the angst riddled guitars that screech through her headphones and blame these unknown beings for taking her too soon.  Much too late, they will uncover the scars that her body bares while He sheds crocodile tears beside her grave.

Uninspired Poetry 9: The Film Edition

The Mummy
Corny one-liners.
Evil man snaked in the face.
Flesh eating beetles.

Scream 4
Webcam murderers.
Courtney Cox’s pillow face.
Dim bints run in heels.

Mean Girls
Oh my God; so fetch!
The limit does not exist.

Bitch hit by a bus.

Inglorious Bastards
"I want me some scalps."
Brad Pitt does a bad accent.

Nein! Nein! Nein! Nein! Nein!

Uninspired Poetry 8

I’m poor 

at twenty-five.
Washing my hair over
the kitchen-sink with DIY fringe.
Classic. 

Uninspired Poetry 7

The days canter by.
Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck
now that I’m older.

Sammy the Gravedigger

His teeth stung as they punctured her skin.

Samantha had always thought she knew exactly how this moment would go. The Hollywood-handsome stranger would swoop in; place one paper white finger under her chin, gently lifting it to expose her neck, while his other hand found a home on the small of her back. Then he would then lean in and drink her blood from an exposed vein in her neck. There may have involved some swooning on Samantha’s behalf, but she hadn’t made up her mind about that.

Unfortunately Samantha discovered that the harsh reality was; allowing an undead stranger to attach himself to her neck and extract blood from her was horrifically painful. Samantha was stood in an uncomfortable position for a prolonged period of time and the act itself was somewhat awkward and clumsy, especially when said handsome stranger couldn’t find a vein. In short, it was the least romantic thing Samantha had ever endured. Losing her virginity crashed in at a close second.

When Isaac eventually lifted his head, they stood in awkward silence before he cleared his throat, averted his eyes and muttered, ‘thanks.’

Reuben and Leah: Chapter 2 and 3

Reuben

The ivory phone on Reuben’s desk alerted him to a caller in its shrill and unsubtle voice. It jolted him from his thoughts and it took him several seconds to register that someone was calling. He sighed, massaging his forehead with one hand as the other darted towards the phone.

‘Hello?’

         ‘Hello Dad, how are you?’

          Reuben smiled and lent back into the office chair. ‘I’m feeling a little under the weather today darling, thank you for asking.’

          ‘I’m sorry I haven’t called recently. I started that new job I was telling you about last time and I’ve just been so busy.’

‘How are you finding your new job?’

         ‘It’s going quite well. Although the pay is terrible, I’m thoroughly enjoying it.’

           Reuben laughed. ‘I’m not giving you a pay rise.’

          ‘Yes, it really is a good thing I love my job.’

 ‘So, how is Leah?’

           ‘Yes, Leah and Robin are both well and send their love.’ The called paused. ‘Leah’s twin sister Evelyn sends her love too.’

           Reuben froze, his smile sliding from his face ‘What?’

           The caller forced a tinkling excited giggle. ‘I know! Isn’t it lovely to have something in common with your future step-daughter? What are the odds that she would be a twin like me?’

           ‘Are you fucking serious?’

           ‘I know, I know! Leah and Evelyn are identical though, unlike myself and Caleb. Such a surprising coincidence, don’t you think?’

           A bell chimed through the speakers of Reuben’s computer, signalling an email.

           ‘No, no, she doesn’t live here,’ chimed Hope’s voice. ‘She lives in Los Angeles.’

            Reuben buried his head in his free hand. ‘Shit.’

            ‘I was thinking of introducing her to Aelia.’

            ‘Aelia is on a plane home,’ muttered Reuben into his hand.

            ‘That’s a shame. I thought Aelia was staying out there for another month.’

            ‘Are you one hundred percent sure there’s a twin?’

            ‘Uh-huh.’

            ‘Shit.’ Reuben brought his hand away from his face and tapped his desk. ‘They told me she had had one child.’

            ‘Sometimes –,’

            Reuben frowned at the silence. ‘Hope?’

            ‘There’s a beautiful silver Sedan parked across the street. You know, the kind I considered buying.’

          Reuben sat up straight. ‘A silver Sedan?’

          ‘Yes. It’s one of those with a personalised number plate.’

‘Is it one of them?’

‘I’m not really sure.’

Reuben stood, the office chair bumping the wall behind it. ‘How long has it been there?’

         ‘I’m not sure. I may go over and see if the owner can tell me more about them.’

‘Do not leave the house, Hope,’ commanded Reuben. He strode around his desk to the door and flung it open. ‘Caleb! Get in the car! Hope, stay in the house. Call Orla - we’re on our way.’

‘Well okay then. You should’ve told me you were in the middle of watching the golf when I rang. Enjoy the rest of the game,’ replied Hope, her voice overly bright. ‘Speak to you soon, Dad. Love you.’

Leah

Leah crept into her bedroom, flicked the light switch and closed the door quietly. She padded over to her bed with her mobile pressed to her ear. Leah heard the click of a lighter on the other end as she sat down on her bed, pulling a throw around her. ‘She disappears in the middle of the night. She likes her steaks rare, and by rare I mean she likes it alive –’

         ‘So she likes rare steak. I like rare steak,’ said Evelyn, inhaling. ‘Why are you whispering?’

         ‘Because Hope is downstairs and I don’t want her to hear me.’ 

         ‘What? She won’t be able to hear you if you’re upstairs.’

        ‘I don’t want to take any chances. Dad might hear me.’ 

          Evelyn exhaled a mixture of smoke and exasperation. ‘Fine. So what else is new?’       

         Leah tapped her foot on the floor. ‘I found a small tub of blood in the fridge.’

        ‘Wow,’ said Evelyn, laughter hiding in her voice. ‘Did you ask her about it?’

        ‘Said she drained it from the chicken we’d had for lunch.’

        Inhale. ‘That’s plausible.’

        ‘How many people do you know who keep chicken blood in their fridge?

       ‘L.A. baby, anything’s possible.’

'I guess,’ said Leah, picking at a loose thread on the throw. ‘Do chickens from a butcher’s still have blood in them?’

Evelyn sighed. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I’m going to Google it.’

‘Great,’ replied Evelyn, exhaling as a muffled male voice called to her. ‘Look, that’s the runner. I need to go back to the set.’

‘Leaves, I need you to come home.’

‘Why?’ asked Evelyn, her tone suddenly hard. ‘Leah, I’m sorry that you’re stuck there in this shitty situation but you’re just going to have to deal with it. You’re determined to hate this woman you know nothing about. Did you know that’s she’s also a twin?’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I have conversations with her!’ cried Evelyn, irritation crashing through her voice.  ‘Stop obsessing over every detail.’

‘So a pot of blood in the fridge is perfectly normal is it?’ snapped Leah. ‘I’m concerned that our new Mother could be dangerous –,’

‘Dangerous?’ shrieked Evelyn. ‘Because she eats rare steaks and leaves the occasional pot of blood in the fridge?’ The muffled male voice called to Evelyn again. ‘I have to go now.’

‘Fine.’ Leah pushed her finger into the mobiles’ screen to end the call. It wasn’t as satisfying as punching her finger onto a button. Frustration ploughed through Leah’s body. Teeth clenched, she stared at the phone in her hand and then glanced up at the opposite wall. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep lungful of air.

Hope shouted up the stairs, agitation etched into her tone. A loud, short sharp crack sounded from the back of the house, followed by the tinkering of shattered glass. More shouts; female and male voices smashed together as the unknown intruders fought their way in.

Leah leaped towards her door, the throw slipping off her shoulders trailing behind her, and yanked it open.

Leah: Chapter 1, Part 2 (Writers Circle)

The line died and Leah replaced the phone in its cradle. She stood in the silence for a few moments, watching as a red ford slowed and steered towards the house. Gravel crunched and the engine whined unwillingly as the old car inched its way onto the long driveway.

                Leah padded through the living room into the cool flagstone-floored kitchen. She swung open the creaking fridge door and peered inside, the cold air a welcome relief on her hot face warmed by a burning autumn day. Two cans of cola and a block of applewood cheese were the only items gracing their presence on the Smeg shelves. Sighing, she grabbed one of the cans and pushed the door shut with her foot.

                The front door opened and a man’s voice called, ‘Hello? Leah, are you in?’

                ‘Yeah,’ shouted Leah, tapping the top of the can and pulling the ring.

                There was a moments silence before the voice shouted, ‘could you come here, love?’

 Leah wondered through a second door, pushing the beaded door divider aside, and moved into a narrow hallway. Two black suitcases stood side by side against the wall, taking up much of the already limited room. Leah looked from her panting father, whose face glistened with sweat, to the cases.

                ‘Did you buy these?’ asked Leah, gesturing to the cases and taking a sip from the can. ‘Are you going away?

                ‘What?’ Mr Jacobs glanced down, rubbing a stitch in his side. ‘Oh no, Lora’s coming to stay with us while the plumbers deal with the burst pipe. Didn’t you get my message?’

                Leah’s grip tightened on the can. ‘No. Lora’s moving in here?’

                ‘Yes, whilst the plumbers are there,’ replied Mr Jacobs, spotting the mornings post on the sideboard and shifting through it, putting down envelopes that looked as though they might contain bills. ‘Come and help me with the rest of her things would you?’

                ‘Why doesn’t she stay with friends – or family?’ asked Leah, apprehension washing over her.

‘Her family live up North and her friends – don’t look at me like that.’

Leah raised her eyebrows. ‘Like what?’

Mr Jacobs pointed a teasing finger at her. ‘You and Eve give me that expression when you disapprove of something I’m doing.’

‘Did I say I disapproved?’ asked Leah defensively. ‘I just don’t understand why she’s coming here.’

                ‘Because her flat is unliveable at the moment, I can’t let her live there. What would you have me do, Leah? Let her live on the street?’ Mr Jacobs ran a hand through his fair hair and wiped the glistening sweat from his forehead.

                ‘She could go to a hotel.’

                ‘No, she couldn’t.’

                ‘Why?’

                ‘What does it matter? This is my house and she’s staying here as my guest.’

                ‘I thought it was our house?’

                ‘It is,’ replied Mr Jacobs, ‘when you pay your rent.’

                Leah stormed down the hall towards the staircase, jumping the first two steps.

‘Leah, love, I’m sorry. It’ll be all right.’

Leah swung round, almost losing her balance on the stair. ‘It’s not all right. Penny left a month ago and now Lora’s staying with us?’ Leah put her free hand on her hip. ‘You haven’t even told Evelyn about Lora yet.’

Mr Jacobs pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. ‘You’re still angry that I broke up with Penny.’

‘I liked Penny, but I’m not angry you broke up,’ snapped Leah. ‘I want to you be happy.’

‘Well, I am,’ he replied, gazing up a Leah. He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Is it Lora?’

Leah gave a non-committal grunt and shrugged a shoulder.

Mr Jacobs dropped his hand, letting it swing beside him like a metronome. ‘I want you to be happy too, you know, Leah. You can tell me if you don’t like Lora.’

Anxiety and guilt churned in her stomach, as she gazed down at her father’s prematurely lined face, snaking through her intestines, pressing against her insides as though longing to engulf the rest of her body. A voice in her head screamed, and was followed by the sickening crunch of metal folding upon the bodiless voice as something heavy collided with it. Her fingers found her new earring and began to turn it. She shivered slightly.

‘We need food,’ said Leah, lifting the can and shaking it slightly.

Mr Jacobs’s eyebrows rose slightly. He hesitated slightly before saying, ‘I’m staying in this evening; you can take the car to the shops if you like.’ His voice was soft and even and he continued to gaze up at Leah with a mild expression of surprise.

‘Fine,’ said Leah, turning and ascending the stairs. ‘I’ll take a shower then I’ll head out.’

‘Could you pick up some veg, love? Lora’s a vegan.’

‘Of course she is,’ muttered Leah, waving a hand behind her head in acknowledgment of her father’s request.

Leah opened the first door on the landing and stepped inside, regretting the amount of force used to close the door as it slammed shut behind her. The room was spacious and airy. Two double beds, one at either end of the room, occupied the majority of the space; one was still made, looking cold and uninviting and the other a mess of duvet, throw and scatter cushions.

Light poured in from the single bay window, framed by aubergine silk curtains, highlighting the jumble of shoes, books and paper that had scattered themselves across the cream-coloured carpet.

A confused bee lingered at the base of the window, lifting off occasionally, attempting a fruitless escape and bumping into the glass. Leah heard the crunch of gravel below the window as her father ambled towards the car to continue unloading more of Lora’s belongings. Leah grabbed her mobile from her cluttered desk and punched in a short, hurried text.

She’s moving in. And she’s a vegan.

               

Less than a minute later her mobile vibrated in her hand. Leah opened the message and glanced down, the corners of her mouth twitching as she read the reply.

Of course she is. Women who don’t eat cake eat veg.

Your paranoia is keeping me from sleeping.

Stop being paranoid! Speak soon, love Leaves. x