Short stories & poems

The wind blows my hair. I’m standing on The edge again.

With Micheal down their, with bloodstains on his hands.

I can’t believe I did it, I killed Micheal.

As the sunset came, the light started to leave but my wet face became solid. Memories flooding my mind, the redness of his dark metallic blood hardening on me by the minute. The wind blowing my obsidian curls.

The weapon still in my hand, shining only slightly with so little light. I couldn’t look away from the body. The scared and shock face that once used to smile at me now frozen in place. Eyes not diluted but soulless.

I wipe my nose with the back of my palm, knife with Micheal’s blood sticked to it in my eye view.

I gulped before I walked closer to the edge of the mountain, the leaves of the trees moving along side the wind creating a cold breeze that went down my spine. I leaned forward eyes closed, bracing myself for the hardness of the worlds surface to end me.

“Hand it over, now!” is being yelled at me as I’m backed into a wall. Three officers surrounded me, and each yell something to me. Me ears are ringing as I tighten my arms to my chest. The thing that I’m holding is a plant. It’s one of the last plants in our society. I’ve keep this plant for so long and was trying to plant it, but I got caught. “Give us the plant now!” I shake my head no, and tears start to pour out my eyes. The officers all look at each other, then stare me down. “I’ll give you to the count of three.” I shake my head and look down. “One.” “No.” “Two.” “No!” “Three.” “NO!” Two of the officers slam my body into the wall, as one grabs the plant between my hands. I cry out but I know nothing is going to stop them. The officer throws the plant on the floor, as I’m crying and begging them to stop. “Kill her.” “NO, I’M SORRY PLEASE.” The main officer walks away leaving me and the other two. “I’m sorry please.” I’m out of breath, and hang my head low. “Please” Bang! My body collapses on the floor, and the plant and my hand touch. The officers walk away, and leaves me and my plant behind.

Roots and the vines of the plant wrap and grow on my body.

My body is covered with flowers, vines, and branches for everyone to see. I’m the plant and it is me.

“What was that?”, Bill asked as he turned to look at the door to the basement. Janet looked at him and surprise and asked, “What sound?”. Bill walked towards the door and placed his head against it, and then there was a large thump that shook the door on its hinges. Bill jumped back and said, “Don’t tell me you didn’t hear that?”, Janet still had a confused look on her face. Bill felt frustrated and grabbed the torch next to the door, he was going to find out what was causing the noise even if Janet didn’t believe there was anything. He slowly opened the door, looked back at Janet and headed down the stairs.

He stepped on the first step, and it creaked causing him to stop and hesitate as if he was going to sneak up on something. He shook his head and took another step and another creek. This is crazy, why am I so concerned by the sound coming from this women’s basement he thought to himself, and then he heard another noise come from the far corner, this put him on his guard. He wanted to make sure Janet was safe so he slowly stepped down the rest of the stairs, and putting the torch out as far out in front of him he could so he could see if anything was coming.

Stepping down onto the floor from the last step he heard something in the corner and what sounded like something falling. Bill squinted hoping he got a better look and asked, “Is there someone there?”, but no one answered. He slowly walked towards the corner where he heard the noise when he saw what had caused the noise, it was a cat. He didn’t know that Janet had a cat and chuckled to himself as he turned towards the stairs.

“Is everything alright down there?” Janet yelled down. Bill looked from the corner up towards the stairs and yelled back, “Yeah, everything is alright. It was just the cat.”. He heard what sounded like Janet laughing, he wondered what was so funny and then heard the door to the stairs slam shut. He ran up the stairs and found it locked. “Why did you lock the door. Let me out of here Janet.”. 

The next thing he heard was a cackle coming from the other side of the door. Janet’s voice seemed to have dropped at least one octave, but he knew it was her when she spoke to him. “I wasn’t talking to you dummy. I was talking to my cat.”. Bill thought this was crazy and banged on the door asking her to open up and let him out, but she wasn’t opening the door.

Bill stood there for a second and decided he would head downstairs to see if there was another way out, and that is when he saw the cat again except it had morphed into a huge creature. It resembled a cat but had multiplied in size tenfold, its claws had grown out, and its teeth were now fangs. He turned but there was nowhere to go when it lunged up towards him. It tore him into pieces and the last thing he heard was Janet saying, “I hope that is enough, thanks Bill.”.

I passed them the leather satchel, “Where the hell did you find this?” “As if I’d tell you. Now, I charge a thousand coins per gram.” “A thousand? Where do you think I’ll get that money? I’ll give you fifty at most.” “One thousand and one hundred, every time you put up a fight I’ll raise it a hundred.” “Fine!” The demon handed me a thousand and fifty coins. “Only one? I thought you where smart.” I shook me head disappointingly “I only need one, what’s the point in another?” “If you say so…” I started to take back the bag, “It’s just this is a rare item, people will try to steal it. A few exras is a logical decision.” I paused for another second, “But It’s your choice.” “Fine.” I looked up and acted surprised, “You want another?” “I’ll take two more, just in case.” I gave him two more and he payed me.

He should be more careful with his money. Only an idiot would think I would give them a real Restart. 

	“I want my money back,” The demon had led me to an ally with clenched fists “Two were stolen and the other didn’t work.”
	I lit my cigarette and stared at him dead in the eye, “No refunds, no returns.”
	“It was a scam!”
	“It was your choice to buy them. You face the consequence.”
	“Fine,” He took his jacket off and cracked his knuckles, “Then I guess I’ll just have to fight it out of you!”
	“No thanks.” 
	I dropped threw the marble on the ground and it sent smoke through the ally and throughout the town.

	I had Restarted.


Context:

Restarts are little marble looking things that if you break them you become immortal and get to make a completely new world however you want. you don’t get to control the people and no one knows who created the would they are in until they find a new Restartand use it. People risk their lives looking for them, but there are also fakes hidden around the world. The true Restart would be the one thats a different color than the rest, though the only people that know that are the people that go looking for them. People are physically unalbe to give hints to where the Restarts are exept for the Immortal. The only way to figure out which one is the fake is if you get at least three with one that is a different color than the other two.

The previous world that this character (Phoenix) was in was a world with demon, angels, and neutrals. The demons lived underground, the angels lived in the sky, and the neutrals lived on land (duh). It was easy to get from one level to another and what you are depends on the way you act. There is scores that only the Immortal can see, scores include Neutrals: -10 to 10, Demons: -11 and lower, and Angels: 11+. 

For example:

a Neutral with a score of 5 would do a lot of commuity servace and eventually earn a score of 7, then they would fight in a war in order to defend their country and get a score of 13 and become an Angel. But lets say they got power hungry and killed a lot of people they would lower their score by  17 and become a neutral. Then lets say they go into drug dealing and the lower their score by 8 so now their a demon.

Yeah there you go.

You wanna talk about mafia? Well, my father was in the mafia. Growing up in Bensonhurst Brooklyn was a rough neighborhood. My father had a little crew. They were his bodyguards and button men. A button man is someone who will kill for you, being that my father was a made man. what’s a made man? did anyone ever see the godfather? my father would delegate to his button men.to make the hit only a made man can delegate . There was a gun in my house, actually, there was a gun in three rooms . I had just married an abusive man not related to the mafia. He used to beat me, but I would never tell my father. One day. I went over the house with my daughter, whowas one years old at the time. it was about 100° outside. I had long sleeves on .my father asked, why are you wearing a long sleeve roll up your sleeve. He saw that my arm was all bruised and black and blue from the wrist to my shoulder. He knew right away. It was my husband. He did not say anything. Silence was not a good thing in the house. It meant trouble, and that trouble was my husband. I knew my father would take care of him, but I did not know how. One thing you have to learn if you’re planning on doing a hit, have to wait. too suspicious to do it right away.. Well, my husband and I split up and I had full custody of my daughter. He never saw my daughter after my father‘s talk. a year later I heard that my husband was dead in the bathroom of his apartment with a needle in his arm, my husband never did drugs. I never questioned my father . Every Sunday night after macaroni dinner, dad would get up put on a suit and go to wherever he had to go. My mother knew what was going on. She also knew he had a girlfriend, they all have girlfriends, but she kept quiet. She was getting everything she needed. The house was beautiful. My mother was uneducated, where was she going to go? She knew her life would be over if she left. my brother and I growing upThought this was completely normal. we used to see dad‘s picture in the paper, we didn’t think anything about it. We would say he did it again. the mafia has different families, Sicilian Naples, Bari Italians. We were the Sicilian mafia. Dad also owned a bar. One night I heard that a man came in the bar and threatened my father. His bodyguard through the man out.the next night. , The man came back.He was cursing at my father, and he saw that he had a gun on-his hip the stranger-was shot in the head and thrown over the train tracks Never to be seen again. Crazy as it sounds I was brought up to not think much about ? What’s that ?the man deserved it although my father never told us, I read it in the newspaper. My father never told us any of his business. When the families went out, we always went to Uncle Louie, or uncle Frank’s. We never bothered with the neighbors. the neighbors did not want to bother with us, but the neighborhood was safe. And safe theyfelt. My father passed away in 1980 of colon cancer.He left my mother before he got sick. When he did die, my mother was sad, but that’s when her life started to live again .we were relieved .we moved to Florida and started all over again without him.this was the happiest days of our lives. It finally was over.

Through the window of her back garden porch, her bedroom light glistened on her skin like porcelain. The way she frolicked around her room, careless to the world, a free spirit left to her own devices. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but why did it feel so right? The nervous trembles got worse by the minute, my vision beginning to cloud.

That inner voice that’s bangs in the back of your head persisted, “Your time is up. Better run.” But I didn’t care.

With a slow draw of my camera, I tried to savour the moment, but the flash. The panic that follows and the screams of horror. If only she got to know me first, she’d know I mean no harm.

That following morning, the red and blue flashes of light fed me my own medicine, as my chest began thudding. My war drum of a heart scored my life in that moment, stamping me with that awful brand I can now never wash away.

Goodbye mon petit secret.

El momento más evitado había llegado. El almuerzo que tanto se había pospuesto se dio, más el retraso no perdió tiempo en ausentar a quien hubiese sido la anfitriona, Elena.

-Finalmente nos reunimos, como deseaba mi quierida hermana. Que esto nos sirva de lección, que se deben aprovechar bien los momentos que la vida nos da, porque no sabemos cuándo será el último -dijo la otra berrinchuda de Ana.

Si, es cierto, que mucho tuve que posponer por motivos de trabajo. Porque muchos no nacimos en cuna de oro como ustedes. Muchos tenemos que vivir de cheque en cheque. Mientras ustedes se daban la buena vida a causa del esfuerzo de sus ancestros y se atreven a dar lecciones morales. Bien merecido se tenía lo que le pasó. O más bien lo que ocasione. Y ahora estoy aquí, celebrando tu homenaje querida Elena, cuando pude y cuando quise.

I was in a state Where happiness Felt like a gamble.

I could be happy now But would I be happy later? I could be smiling now But would I be crying later?

You feel how you do now But will you feel the same later? You say you want to be with me But will you leave later?

She became my success But eventually my downfall. She became my lesson But eventually my trauma.

Now I look back To see What can I do differently? All I have is my head.

It’s nice to think Even the dead can tell stories.

He’s sitting in the courtroom, with a smug look on his face. He was disheveled. He looked like he belonged in an institution. I was on the jury, of all people, they made me the head juror. He had robbed the bodega, shot the owner allegedly. The prosecution interrogated three people. one was a detective , the Other2 were prostitutes,. Now after three days it’s time to deliberate. We all go into the room, everyone says that he’s guilty. I being the head juror, was the only one that did not consider him guilty. Reason being, the judge said before we left to deliberate, if you are 99.99. percent sure. That he is guilty, you must make him innocent. when I propose this to the jury members, they were against it. They felt he was guilty and they wanted to go home. I can’t commit someone unless I’m absolutely sure. well nevertheless we were sequestered overnight in a hotel. In the morning, we all decided to make him innocent. It turns out that he was a twin identical twin. he was taking the wrap for his brother, who had a rap sheet as long as your arm. Call it what it is. it turns out that I was right I couldn’t see putting that man away for life. I had a gut feeling he was innocent.

Half a year ago: Nina laid on the floor of her house, her blood puddling underneath her. Her husband, Mark, stood over her with his fist bloody; “Lay down and shut up like a good girl, or else things will get worse for you.” Nina’s heart filled with fear and she laid still.

Ten minutes past, Mark left, finally Nina pulled herself up off the floor. She breathed heavily; holding her stomach; sobbing as she felt herself miscarry.

“I shouldn’t have told him. I should have just hid the fact I was pregnant, and I should have just left him without telling what was happening.” Nina thought to herself as she sobbed. Clutching her stomach tighter as she cramped and bled.

Present:

“11 long years. I have loved him for 11 long years; forgiving him at every turn, every woman, every lie, every betrayal. Every beating, every slur he’s called me, every trip to the hospital because of his anger. Every fake smile he gave me while he fucked whores from the bar every single night. Every forced miscarriage.

I can’t do this anymore. This is my breaking point.

I can’t keep pretending to be okay when I’m on the verge of tears. On the verge of destruction.”

Nina thought as she sat in her car, staring at her husband with another woman once again. Nina noticed she fit her husbands ideal type - blonde, blue eyed, and perfectly in shape with beautiful long legs. Nina looked at herself in the rear view mirror: brunette, brown eyes, freckles, and 20 pounds overweight than what her husband wishes for her.

Nina’s eyes darkened as she looked back to her husband; who was standing kissing the woman, his arms wrapped around her waist caressing her butt. They pulled away, held hands and hurriedly walked to the nearby motel.

Nina waited outside the motel for two hours and finally the woman exited the room; walking away with her hair a mess, hickies all over her neck and a sway in her hips. Nina tracked the woman with her eyes, then returned back to the room her husband was still residing in.

He finally came out, he pulled out his phone and Nina’s phone began ringing. Nina inhaled sharply, “Hey! How are things at the office?” “Good, I finally finished the project. I’ll be home in about thirty minutes.” He said. “Mark?” “Yes, honey?” He replied. “I… nothing. Come home safely.” Nina said. Trying not to tear up. “Of course, baby. I’ll see you soon.” He said then hung up. Nina watched him turn the corner and walked to the bridge that led to their home.

As she watched him cross it, anger welled up inside her. She began shaking, her vision became like a tunnel. She wanted him dead. “Eleven fucking years with this piece of shit… I’ll be free soon.”

Nina put the car into drive and sped off towards him. He heard the car behind him and he stopped. Nina stopped. She took a second to stare at him, when he began to walk towards the car she hit the gas.

Her entire body trembling. Her heart racing. And a smile on her face.

He began to run away but it was futile; the car smashed into him, taking him under its wheels.

She drove a bit more before putting the car into drive and reverse. Running him over again.

Nina did this seven times before she got out. He was bloody, screaming in pain. She walked towards him. He looked up at her, “Nina? Wha- why?” He studdered. Nina looked down at him with a scowl. “Because you are a filthy, cheating, and abusive bastard who deserves to feel a portion of the pain you’ve inflicted on me for the past eleven years.”

Mark coughed up blood. His arm and leg broken, Nina grinned evily. “Now lie down and die like a good boy.” Mark looked at her wide eyed, Nina watched in pleasure as his eyes filled with fear.

Mark’s breathing began to become labored, he winced then gasped. His rib puncturing his lung.

Nina stepped back as he pined for her, he barely touched the tip of her shoe before his last breath filled the air. “Good bye, Mark. And good riddance.” Nina grinned.

She pushed his body over the bridge wall; getting into her car she laughed manically - finally liberated from the fear and pain she endured for so long.