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alexanderflowerbird · 5 days ago

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DAY 10

Wahoooo! Today has been a SUPER productive day of writing! I set my goal at 3K and I finished out at a WHOPPING 4207 words! Yippee! Blood Sun Territory has me by the throat in the best way, and I'm so excited to report that while I still have disjointed scenes coming to mind, I have completed the first chapter.

I revealed to my writing group a tragic reveal coming up later in the story and the howling and gnashing of teeth that resulted was so satisfying lol. Being part of a writing group is really gratifying, and honestly? I like these folks and their work so much I'm very tempted to see if they'd like to simply continue writing together after November is over.

Obviously with the holidays coming all of us will end up crawling to our keyboards to get work done, but like... I want to see their projects unfold in real time, and I am enjoying sharing my work with them so much it keeps me motivated to keep working.

The excerpt I have for you today will not be 4000 words lol, but it will be the last parts of the first chapter where Malachi discovers that there's hope in his dream to make things right with Felina and be with his daughter Mercedes in a very touching way. I cried imagining it, so of course he cried too, and it was really cathartic to write all told. I hope you enjoy it! Taglist: @theskeletonprior @thelittlestspider @badscientist @tragedycoded If you'd like to be part of my taglist, please interact with this post

“Well, you’ve got a nice little nest egg to start back up with.” She says, pleased for him, and he looks at her with surprise.

“How much is there?” He asks, because he can’t remember the exact amount he’d had in the bank account before he was put in prison, but he’s sure it wasn’t anything impressive or substantial when he and Felina were living paycheck to paycheck, pouring every dollar they had into their daughter. He’d honestly have been alright with discovering there was nothing at all in the account, that Felina had emptied out his funds to continue taking care of their daughter without a second thought for him. He’s grateful to find something was left, but a ‘nice little nest egg�� is not the phrase he’d have used for what was left in the account when he’d been sentenced.

“Your account is at one thousand dollars exactly, sir. Not a cent more. Nice and even, don’t see that much, I’ll tell you.” The woman says conversationally. Malachi has to grip the counter, his knees weak. A thousand dollars? He had never had a thousand dollars at one time except right when his checks out come in, and even then, it’d disappear almost over night to pay bills and buy groceries and gas and toys and diapers and all sorts of other necessities. The bank teller looks concerned again, so he speaks quickly.

“Is there a way to uh… see the transactions in my account?” He asks, because surely there’s some mistake. Maybe he somehow made that money in prison and it was put into the account as soon as he left. That feels impossible too, making thirteen cents an hour at the prison and being expected to use it on anything that wasn’t the bare minimum of belongings. No. There’s no way he has a thousand dollars on his own merits.

“Sure! Let’s see…” The woman clicks at her keyboard a few times and then moves to get up from her seat. “I’ll be right back with that, and I’ll activate that new card for you while I’m at it. Just a minute Mr. D….Ah, sir.” She says, smiling wider before going away from the window. He feels sick, so he focuses on his breaths and closes his eyes, opening them to scan the area around him and take stock of where he is, what’s near him, what everything looks like, anything to quiet the sudden spiral of panic. He notices in this sharpened effort to remain present that the woman’s name is Leslie, it says so on her name tag, a black tag, with gold embossed letters. She has a pin underneath it proudly reporting that she’s been working for this bank for fifteen years. Leslie was just starting her career here when Mercedes was born. She slides a small pile of papers his way along with a new card which has a print on the cover of evergreen trees rather than the old, solid green. It is fresh and glossy, its edges undented with use, the numbers sharply painted a titanium silver color. He accepts the papers and the card.

“Is it okay if I go take a look at these for a moment?” He asks, still struggling to breathe.

“Sure of course. Just come back over here when you’re done and we’ll finish up whatever other business you have, alright?” He nods at Leslie, and can feel her eyes on him as he looks around for a moment before settling on the island near the entrance of the bank where the deposit and withdrawal slips are made available for people to fill out on their own. He places the papers on the shiny wood top and begins reviewing the transactions. She was able to pull from five years back only, but immediately the numbers as they ebb and flow are revealing. Felina’s name is there, again and again and again, money going in and coming out. He flips the page, the next page, the last page. The money has been sitting without disturbance for a little over two years. He goes back to the beginning. She’d emptied the account twice, leaving it empty for no longer than a month before more money was trickling in, twenty dollars here, a hundred fifty dollars there, up and up, then down, then up again… and at some point, two years back… she’d left him a perfect, even thousand, and hadn’t needed to touch it since. He chokes a little, gasping for breath as the letters and Felina’s name obscure in his vision. He covers his eyes with his hand, but the tears aren’t halted by him hiding them away. He trembles, eyes clenched shut, gasping out quiet sobs as he blots the fresh ink of the bank account transcript with tears. He can hear people moving around him, cautious to not disturb this moment they don’t understand, but he can’t think of them. He can’t think of anyone but Felina.

He hadn’t meant to, but he’d betrayed her. He’d loved her with every part of him that could love her, and she’d deserved more than that. He’d lied to her for so long about who he was, what he wanted, let her find out in the worst way. He’d tried to make their lives better quick and dirty, and cost her an extra hand to raise their daughter. He’d destroyed their life, killed it in its crib thinking he’d jump over years of hard work and get them a house and a nice car and he’d get it all without getting in any trouble. Stupid. Stupid and selfish and utterly unworthy. He doesn’t understand it, why even two years ago she was thinking of him. It reminds him of all the times she grabbed him hard by his arm and forced him into a jacket. How she’d sit on the edge of the tub and wash his hair and rub his shoulders, insist upon it even if he thought baths were too feminine an activity only to be utterly relaxed and comforted by her attention. How she’d cook too much of his favorite foods, and when he’d ask why she made so much, she’d smile at him, beautiful beyond words, and say ‘it’s so you can have your favorite tomorrow, too, stupid.’

How she’d loved him, more than he’d ever deserved. Even before he knew he liked men, even before she’d caught him, from the very beginning she’d loved him more than he could ever make up for. A thousand dollars. It’s more than enough to go and find her. Now he must say thank you as well as sorry, and he wants to so badly. If somehow he could close the space in an instant, if he could be where she is right now, he’d fall to his knees to thank her, to tell her how sorry he is, how much he loves her. Despite everything, she must love him too, and he’s terrified to hope for that to be true, but when he takes his hand away from his eyes and wipes away his tears, the numbers are clear again and he cannot deny himself this beckoning offer of redemption. She gave him what he needs to come home. Maybe she didn’t mean it that way, but it’s what he intends to do with it. He wants to go home. She’s home. God help him for ruining it all. She’s home, and he has to go to her and their daughter and say thank you and he’s sorry.

He tries to pull himself together, but it takes several minutes, the complexity of this silent gesture hitting him in waves. She could’ve left him nothing and she would’ve been right to. Wherever she is, she must be doing well enough not to need this thousand dollars. Each time she emptied it out, she could’ve decided fuck him, and let it be, but she couldn’t go thirty days without trying to put more money back in. When he finally has a hold of himself, he returns to find Leslie terribly concerned, her eyes searching him for understanding.

“You alright, sir?” She asks gently.

“Yeah I ah… Yeah. Thank you, Leslie. Can I… Can I take a hundred bucks out in cash, please?” Leslie nods immediately and types a few things into the computer.

“Twenties alright?” She asks.

“That’ll be fine ma’am. Oh. Actually ah. I need a roll of quarters, the rest can be bills.” He amends. He still needs a payphone, that’s next on the list and he’s not willing to wait on it until he’s found a hotel for the night. He needs to ride the heart wrenching high of this moment and use it to muster his courage. He is terrified more than ever of what awaits him now. It was one thing, to believe he might find Felina and Mercedes and not have a chance to make things right with them. Now, he feels he has a good chance of trying and he might fuck it all up again. That, he is realizing, is much, much scarier. Leslie produces the bills and puts them in an envelope, setting the roll of quarters on top. When Malachi reaches for them, she reaches into the slot and brushes her fingers against his knuckles, her manicured nails stroking lightly across his skin.

“Hey,” She says gently, and when he meets her eyes, she smiles at him. “You have the best day, sir. Alright?” He smiles at her, teary all over again, unsure what he’s done to deserve any of this, Felina’s saved money for him, his freedom, this stranger’s unprovoked kindness.

“Thank you, ma’am. You too.” He says softly, taking the money after turning his hand over to squeeze hers, tucking the envelope into his wallet and the roll of quarters into his pocket. When he leaves the bank, the fresh air outside smells of oncoming rain. He wipes his eyes one more time and breathes deep. He knows what he needs to do next, so he turns and makes his way down the street, on the hunt for a pay phone so he can make a call and hope that some how, the world will continue to bless him with kindness he doesn’t deserve, but he hopes to become worthy of.

#blood sun territory #original story #fuck nano update

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