Monday, April 21, 2008

Who doesn't want to start at least one story with a dark and stormy night?

Sometimes, when am I afraid of something or someone it helps to write a piece from their point of view. ...


It was a dark and stormy night in los angeles. The moon shone through the apartment like a flood light someone had forgotten to turn off. The street was as cold and silent as death and the windows were bare. It was easy to see her. I watched her move through every room. Wandering, jumpy. A dog barked and she looked like she might jump out the window. She had no idea I was there but I know she could feel my eyes by the way she kept looking out into the night. I reminded myself how lucky it was that she had a circular apartment with so many windows. So many chances to see her. 

She seemed so nervous that night. She had been alone for two days. I knew I had only one more day to make my move. I half hoped that she would spot me and invite me in for tea, that would make it so much easier. I always hope that and they never do. If only she knew how easy she could make it on herself if she would just come to me. If she could just admit how she feels about me, instead of leaving me shivering, cowering with the hydrangeas. How could she do this to someone she so clearly loves? I wrote her a letter once. It was beautiful. I used all the best words and phrases. She cried when she read it. She showed it to her boyfriend. I could only imagine her showing him the letter and telling him that she had found her one true love and that it was over between them. He put his arm around her, comforting her, then he took off in his van, leaving her life wide open for me. But how could she still leave me out in the cold? 

If only she would have given in then the police would have stopped bothering me and we could live happily ever after. Oh how I loved a hard headed dame like this one. I was sure her insides were as beautiful as her outsides. I couldn't wait to split her open. I wondered silently if the noodles she had for dinner would come spilling languorously out along with her intestines like little worms. 

Sadly, I never got the chance to find out. I didn't know it, but when the dog barked, she got suspicious and called the police. I heard it before I felt it. The sickening thud when the officer hit me on the back of the head with his club. There is no echo when a blunt object makes contact with your head. There is no bouncing back. Just THUD. 

As I sit here in my cell I can still feel the knot from where he hit me. I drew a picture of it and sent it to her but she hasn't responded yet. I'm sure she is too distraught to even read. I saw her crying when they were dragging me away. I know the scraping of my heels along the asphalt was too much for her to bare because she ran inside and slammed the door. I think of her every night. Only a few more months until we can be together again and everything will be alright.


*I no longer live in that apartment...

6 comments:

The Grey Tree said...

That is creepy. I am insanely afraid of windows at night so this... oh yeah freakin me out.

queenofhollywood said...

Very interesting. Well, for me, in night like that I want to watch a good movie eating popcorn lying in the couch.

I've never been afraid of a dark stormy night or of being alone at home, actually, since I was a little I have been alone at home because my parents had to be going to work. So I used to be alone.

And now... well... as your character Molly said once: I'm 24 years old, I don't need a babysitter.

(I'm kidding, I just have watched the episode again and I remember that line)

At this moment, thinking about it, with all I've been through in my life it had been pretty silly be afraid of that. Then I would be a fearful person. I'm shy person but not fearful!

Have a great day, Clem.

Anonymous said...

I have to admit; today’s blog freaked me out. For the past two weeks, I have been stalked. I feel like this person is following me everywhere I go. Deeply inside, I try to imagine who s/he is. I try to understand why s/he is doing it. Is s/he wants to kill me? Is s/he wants money? Or is s/he has a crush on me? Hummmm… I don’t know BUT every time my phone rings, I feel goosebumps growing all over my body.
Scream movies (1, 2, and 3) makes a lot of sense to me now lol…
Anyways, great story… I would say keep them coming, but I still a little bit scare .

Have a great day

Wanda said...

Clementine,

Wow, the way you write blows me away. This story with it's overall dark tone, with your texturing I can see this in my mind. A perfect story of requestive love, and madness. I love the charachters inner conversation. I really need to read this many many more times like all your writings.

The Amatuer Writer said...

Holy Jesus!..This is by far the darkest yet most intruging piece! Loved the way you created the many layers (almost like a rainbow) of emotions in regards to the characters. There's the blue layer, orange, violet, green and each color represents a different emotion like fear, sadness, angst, hope..you get the picture..lol

Awesome job!!! I'm actually speechless..haha, hence the 'short' comment.

Stay well and cool, dear Clem.

TONI ;)

Just Me... said...

Wow!! Your writing is PHENOMENAL! This would be a book I wouldn't put down! The way you write, keeps me hooked, every line - and the way you weave things together - AMAZING!!!

Thank you so much for sharing parts of yourself with us!