As I stated in my last post, I’m going to bring back the thing that got me my following on my other (and since deceased) blog. It was a story that I began writing as a junior in high school. It went over extremely well with those who read it, and I am aware of the need to put something creative on here, so I’m gonna test the waters for a bit.

Here’s the deal: I’m going to do exactly as I used to. I’ll post in 4 page increments, one time a week. I’ve got most of the story written and grouped already, so the suspense should hopefully keep ya coming back for more. Please keep in mind that this was done when I was a much more inexperienced writer, so there are probably some kinks and things I could’ve done better. But, as I said before, everyone who read it the first go ’round had nothing but good things to say, so hopefully that’ll hold true this time. I’m not even sure I like this thing anymore. Let me know what you guys think!

IF this gets the same positive response, I’ll continue to post the story until it is completed (which will require some new writing on my part). If not enough people are diggin’ it, I’ll take it down and start fresh with a new one.

FAMILY MEMBERS TAKE NOTE: Despite my ever-so-Christian upbringing, I have a tendency to use offensive language when I write. Read at your own risk, just don’t think less of me when you see grown-up words. I love you all.

 

Alright, here ya go… I never titled this thing.

Untitled Pt 1

I wish I never would have done it. I wish I’d never seen it. That baby, that damned baby! I still have nightmares about it this very day! I’ve got to write it down, the tale. It seems writing is the only thing that pushes the thought from my head anymore. . . I hope writing it down will finally expel the thought from the deepest crevices of my mind.

To begin, I must go back quite some time. Three weeks, to be exact. That was the day I saw her; the women in red. She was a frail but beautiful woman, and the red sundress she wore made her look even more so. She had long, blonde hair that cascaded down her pale, white shoulders. She looked peaceful, just standing next to the light pole. I even thought about making a pass at her. That was, until she turned around.

Even if I live forever, those eyes will never fade from memory. There was nothing beautiful about them. They were red, red enough to match the sundress. At first, I thought for sure they were trick contacts. I was positive; so positive that I got up the nerve to ask her where she got them.

“M’am,” I said. “Would you mind telling me where you got those contacts? They’re really creepy, and I kind of want a pair.”

She laughed. Although, it wasn’t a normal laugh. It was deep. Her laugh was as deep as any man’s. I was so taken aback that I nearly tripped over my own feet. I realized then that there was something wrong with the woman. I realized then that those red eyes were not red due to contacts. I realized that this thing, however beautiful, was not a woman.

I turned around, though not too briskly, to avoid seeming freaked out. I kept reminding myself to walk slowly.Whatever it was, I didn’t want to be near it, but I didn’t want to piss it off by being rude. I doubt it really cared about how rude I seemed, but I wasn’t about to take the chance.

I kept walking and kept walking till I reached the intersection. Keep in mind, I was still pretty freaked. I forgot to stop when the crosswalk sign changed. There were people all around me who were stopped, but I didn’t notice. I just continued walking, still trying to distance myself from my awkward encounter. I realized I was in the middle of the street when I saw the eighteen wheeler coming straight at me, chugging with purpose. I looked at it, and time froze.

Don’t get the wrong idea, I wasn’t hit or anything, but time literally froze. Just stopped. Everything was still, but I was able to move. I stood there and studied the scene. It was oddly peaceful. Well, it was, until I caught a glimpse of the truck driver. There were those eyes again, those awful, red eyes! That wasn’t even the worst of it! Behind the wheel of the truck was the vilest looking creature I had ever seen.

Gray skin. Long black hair with more grease in it than a deep fryer. The eyes. I was sure I was in limbo. You know, that state between life and death where you’re kind of just stuck? My imagination began to wander, and I concluded that I was looking at a demon. It was as if old Lucifer himself were coming for me. I was scared shitless.

Thankfully, that didn’t last long. After my initial paralysis, I quickly darted across to the sidewalk. To this day I still don’t know what happened with the whole time freezing thing. That’s one piece to the puzzle I doubt I’ll ever solve. I’ve got a pretty good hunch, though.

I think it was trying to tell me something. Maybe I was supposed to get some sense of impending doom and jump off a cliff. That happened to a guy I knew once. They found him in his closet, scratching at the wood, mumbling something unintelligible. They put the poor guy in a clinic, but he got out. A day later, he was found dead at the bottom of Deadwood Bluff with a note in his pocket. The note read: Stay away from me!

That’s some real freaky stuff right there. The town psychiatrist thought the guy had seen something; granted, it was something that probably wasn’t there, but it drove him mad. I hoped with all of my being I hadn’t seen an angel of death or some crap. But man, that day was creepy.

I really didn’t know what to do. I was freaked. I decided to call up my buddy Sam and tell him to meet me at the bar for drinks. Alcohol solves all problems, or so they say, and I was hoping that it would solve mine.

We met at the bar at eight and sat down in our booth. Yes, we have a specific booth. Sam’s father is one of the bartenders, so we kinda get special privileges. We’d been drinking at that bar well before we were of legal age, bless Sam’s dad. I’d be willing to bet that we were the longest-tenured regulars at the bar that night.

So anyway, we sat down in our booth, and I ordered my usual, a Jack Julep. That’s Jack Daniels with a little bit of syrup and mint spring for you non-alcoholic types. I don’t know why anyone would choose to abstain from liquor, but hey, if you have standards to uphold, you have standards to uphold. Ok, so, back to the story. Sam and I are sitting there, looking at the women and eating fried pickles, like always, when we see this girl walk in.

This girl was beautiful. I mean drop dead gorgeous. She was the kind of girl you didn’t want your family to know about, but you made sure all your buddies knew. Boy, what a looker.

After a time, Sam leaned over and to me “Look at the rack on that one! Wouldn’t mine taking those for a spin, ey?”

I said of course I wouldn’t. Then, with a wry smile on his face, Sam got up and started walking in the woman’s direction. He did that shit all the time, but what he did that night was something I’d never seen him do. To this day I still don’t know what he said to her, but within the minute she was walking back to our booth with him.

You could really see her whole body from the new angle. She was so gorgeous I almost literally salivated. I’m not proud of it, but you just gotta understand what I’m talking about. She had wavy brown hair and dark green eyes. You could faintly see the cutest dimples when she smiled. Her teeth were stark white, whiter than any teeth I’d ever seen. She was so beautiful it was almost unnatural.

She wore a green dress that fell to the floor. It was pretty low cut, so all the goods were exposed. This girl was hot, and she knew it. She sat down and the three of us talked.

Her name was Melanie. An odd name, I thought, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. She was a recent college grad and new to the city. Storybook stuff, I know. She had studied medicine at Stanford and graduated top of her class. That made Sam worry, seeing as how he is an idiot and she was a genius. He took her home that night, damn him.

I was the last one at the bar. My drink was gone and I was bored. The incident at the intersection was the furthest thing from my mind.

I began to walk home; it wasn’t far, maybe 6 blocks. I took my usual route: King Street to Jackson, and Jackson to Beech.