The scarcity of the desert consumed me.The dry air brushed against my arm. I rose from my tomb slowly. All of these memories began to flood my brain like a tsunami. Memories that were buried deep in my soul. The haunting thoughts sent shutters down my spine as I walked to the castle. My father was Lord Uther of Lilop. My father has a very grand fortune. He owned everything from cars to cattle. I was to inherit the fortune when he died, since I was the first-born son. My brother Arthur was always jealous of me. He envied my every move. My father treated me well and didn’t pay much attention to Arthur. I had certain privileges my brother didn’t, but he took it to heart. My father fell very ill. His health was depleting day by day. When my father died Arthur became distant. While I was at my dead father’s bedside he stabbed me in the back. “ Why brother?,” I asked as my breath shortened. “ I want simply, your fortune”, he said menacingly. I fell to the ground while blood was gushing from my side. I felt like I was being emptied. My eyes began to open and close slowly. I knew these were my final moments. I open my eyes one last time to see my brother standing over top of me with a smile on his face. Then I fell into a dark eternal sleep. I reach the doorstep, as I open the door I am met with an endless hallway. Doors creak open as I tiptoe daintily. Then I see Arthur from a distance. I walk vicariously through the halls. The thought of being discrete leaves my mind, as my thoughts now focus on revenge. The revenge I seek is overwhelming. My mind wanders to dark places as I lunge towards him. The sight of him disgusts me, but also motivates me. I am getting closer and closer then I see him clearly. I gaze at his golden locks of hair droop over his forehead. I purse my lips hoping a sound would emit. “Hello brother”, I whisper slowly in his ear. He jumped up to be met with the sight of his reincarnated brother. He looks into my eyes intently remembering the painful death he bestowed upon me. As he stares in my eyes a piece of rotten skin falls on his face. I look away caught off guard from this faint piney smell meticulously making its way in my lungs. I can hear his heartbeat. The rapid beating of a drum with red running through its sticks. He’s growing as white as snow with sweat dripping from his brow. “ Brother, I’m sorry,” `his breath shortens. I grabbed a torch from the wall and dropped it on the ground. The fir quickly spreads first to the curtains, then the bed, and made its way to the door. I watched “I hope it was worth it, brother”. I whispered as I faded away having my soul satisfied. #betray #gothic #revenge

“I did what I had to do.” I gritted through my teeth. They were grinding against each other. It was as if they were going to break in a matter of seconds. My muscles tighted for this the third time they two officers across the table had asked me this question. But no one had listened. “They said to kill and I killed.”

The woman leaned in over the table to ask me the same thing she had been asking for the past hour, “Who said to kill?” Her eyes staring at me as if my answer wuld be differnt from the past several times she asked me.

“The voice!” I yelled, slamming my fist in the table, my breathing hard and uneven. “I told you it was the Voice!”

The two officers gazed at me as if I was mad. But it wasn’t I who was mad. Lord KNOWS it wasn’t me. I was simply doing a good deed.

“Now what did this voice...say, huh?” the male officer asked, the right side of his lips lifting up as if a pupet masterwas pulling on an invisible string conected to the corner of his mouth. My muscles then and only then relaxed as I recalled what the voice said and what I did. I smiled.

“The name.” I then began humming with delight. “Johnson. Alice Johnson. The vooice said it. there was really nothing more to say after this.” My smile only increased in size the longer I spoke of the topic. “From then on, it was only a matter of research. using my limited access to reasearch her.”

The two police officers then exchanged wary glances with each otheras if their lives were just placed on immediate danger. “1225 Lincoln street Clinton, Maryland 50178. Her address. 928-735-1469. Her number. James Johnson. Her huband. Lilly Jonhson. Her daughter. But as I studied her, I noticed her mouth. It was always moving. She was always talking and what made it worse was that her voice sounded of nails being dragged along a black board to my ears. that there was certainly something that had to be addressed. So I addressed it.”

No longer speaking for a moment, I think back to th fond memories I created. “For a week, I learnt her schedule everyday from 2 until 3, she was home alone. Perfect! It was Perfect!” I shouted with glee, attempting to stand and jump but failing due to the handcuffs on the right wrist connected to the table pulled me back down to me seat.

“I snuck into her house through the the back window on the first floor. At about 1:15 when no one was home. Searching... Searching... for something special. A needle, twine, and a knife. But the knife was most important, the knife was key. Shiny, silver, metal, cold, a beauty. I then left to the living room to await Alice’s arrival. Playing with the knife, I cut my finger to begin my art. I dragged my bloodied finger across the white couch writing special and beautiful words. I heard the door open. “Alice” I whisper-sung. I heard a gasp and quick footsteps go up the stairs. I followed the steps and managed to trapped her in a corner.

“Who are you?” She cried. I remained silent, a grin spreading across my face. I slipped the knife in her side only deep enough for her to feel the pain but not to kill her. Because i wasn’t done with her. she screamed and it was even worse than her voice. “Shut up!” I yelled. But she wouldn’t so I hand to get to work. I threaded to twine through the needle and started sewing her mouth closed. Finally, no more voice. I left her there and tried to make my escape. But you two imbeciles were downstairs and in the way. The stupid neighbors must’ve called you then.”

The cops both exchanged glances once again. I thought back to my art on the couch.

All you have to do is shut your mouth.

#flashfiction #reading #newpost #plot #plottwist #newwriter #silence #shutyourmouth #cops #trouble #murder #danger #death #crazy #madwoman #mad #silence #sewing

#jail #whitedress #voices #hearing #hearingthings #christmas

Bobby went on and got himself married. Sarah was a nice gal but she was truly a city gal. She ain’t like gulfport too much. But she loved herself some Bobby. I remember meeting Sarah for the first time. She and Bobby came to Rel’s house where all us cousins go to lay back and cut up. She laughed at everything we laughed at, got up an did the mashed potato just as good as Karren Jean. Sarah really was a nice girl. But she and Bobby didn’t last too long. The love ran dry, I guess. We all knew that Sarah was too good to be true for Bobby. I mean, he worked but he was lazy as all get out and I promise you he was dumb as a box of rocks. We all wondered why a nice girl like Sarah would get with Bobby. Not to mention he moved so slow, he was slow as molasses on a 30 degree day. So we weren’t surprised when Sarah went back to Chicago with her family, but I was a little sad. I missed her company, I had kinda got used to her. She would come dressed clean as the board of health. I even started getten Fannie to make me some upidity close like Sarah’s. But she gone now. One day I came home from school to a room full a soggy faces, which is not common round these parts. I mean, we some hard folks in dis here house. A real fancy looking black detective was in the house trying to see if we knew anything about where Sarah might be caz her folks cain’t find her. Big ma went to prayen and hollering and carriyng on so, I missed what the fine fellow said about when she was last seen. We hadn’t seen her in about fo weeks. So we couldn’t help him. Isa shame tho, caz Sarah really was a nice girl. I just remeber her bright smile and fine fancy hoses she wore on her legs like the white folks. Time went on and we got a newspaper clipping telling us Sarah had been found dead in a back alley. We were so sad, we ain’t have the heart to tell Bobby, so we just let him be, he wasn’t much happy no way, why makem even mo sad. Walking home from school acrros the railroad tracks I thought about Sarah’s nice yellow jacket. It had penny sized buttons in the shape of ship yard anchors. The buttons were a sort of light copper and the jacket was always pressed and straight. After wiping dirt off my shoe, caz Big Ma would call me a dirty heathen, I stood up and saw a lady walking to me. I thought, “She look real crazy walking on the train tracks with those high heel shoes on.” I got closer to her and dropped everything in my hands. She looked surprised. “Hey Fat, ain’t you glad I’m back” I promised God I would never fall asleep in church again an den I said, “He- Hey Sarah?”.