#fictionalwriting

[collectingtruths]

Part 11: She’s A Little Runaway

TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse/Assault - Both physical and sexual

August 25, 1994 - Portage County, Ohio

“I could still turn back before I pass the last house and really have to commit to this.”

― Claire Wong

[She was zoned out, staring at the dried tomato seed that was stuck to the top of the dining room table. “You hear me talking to you, stupid?” Her stepfather’s voice registered, but it sounded like her head was under water. The blow came from behind, the back impact connected with the back of her head sending her forehead crashing against the table. Instinct had her bringing her hands up to protect the back of her head from anymore slaps, but it didn’t dull the throbbing in the front of her face. His hand gripped the top of her head and yanked her head back, her hands planted over his to keep him from pulling out any of her curly blonde hair. She knew better than to scream. He brought his face down close to hers, sweat dotted along his brow, his bushy mustache hiding his upper lip but she could see the spit glazing his bottom one. “You’re a dumb bitch, just like your mother. Can’t fucking hear when someone’s talking to you.” He took advantage of her hands being up behind her head and brought his free hand up to slap her face, the sting had her eyes watering instantly, but his hand came right back to her face, thumb digging into her cheek while his other four fingers pressed into the other side. She could feel the delicate tissue inside of her mouth pressing against her teeth. She closed her eyes against the pain which caused him to get even more angry and seconds later she heard it before she felt it. The wad of spit landed on her closed eyes. “Look at me. Open your goddamn eyes.” She struggled and partially gagged, but opened her eyes. “Now you look like your mother.” He grinned and she felt her stomach drop. He started to jerk her head down like he was going to pull her from the chair when the sound of the screen door slamming against the wooden railing of their trailer’s porch alerted him to her mother coming home. “Go clean your fucking face.” She fell to the floor aside of the chair and scrambled away before he could change his mind. 

She didn’t just wash her face, she took an entire shower. She scrubbed her skin until it burned and stood under the hottest water she could stand. She didn’t want to stay there too long. She didn’t want to be without clothing around Denny any longer than she had to be. Her mom was a waitress and had met Denny at the restaurant where she worked. They were married six months later when he moved in and that was when the beatings first started, only it wasn’t toward her. It was Kevin who got all of Denny’s anger and frustration. Her big brother Kevin was two years older than her and took every beating that was given. She often cleaned the blood off him and helped patch him up after rough fights, but he never complained. He said it was because he was a boy and Denny wanted to be the man of the house and prove that he wasn’t shit. She had watched her brother get wailed on from the time she was twelve, but when Kevin turned eighteen, he left. He promised that as soon as she turned eighteen, he’d come back and get her, but he said if anything happened before, she was supposed to tell him. She didn’t want to tell him that as soon as he left, the abuse was directed at her. Their mother knew, she guessed she just rather it be her kids instead of her, but she wasn’t even sure her mother realized anymore, not when she was usually high more often than she wasn’t. But every few days, she would sneak and call Kevin from the pay phone when Denny was asleep and her mom was either at work or high and passed out.

When Denny had her by the hair, she knew she was only saved from the sexual abuse by her mother coming home. That was something he wouldn’t openly do, but she also didn’t believe that her mother didn’t know. But if her mom had made good tips tonight, she undoubtedly would get high which would have Denny creeping into her room. And she wasn’t going to let it happen again. She had a backpack shoved in the bottom of her closet with shorts, socks, underwear, tshirts and a sweatshirt. Everything was secondhand, but she didn’t care. A lot of her stuff came from the neighbor who had a younger daughter and it just so happened that most of her stuff fit. After the abuse started, food really wasn’t a high priority, she just couldn’t find her appetite and it made her much smaller than she really should’ve been. Small or not, she wasn’t staying here another night. But she had to wait to sneak out. 

She must’ve fallen asleep, but the sounds of her mother and Denny having sex woke her up. Her mother always made a big fuss over him, stroking his ego. It was impossible to ignore the shouts and grunts and groans, but she was going to use this. She jumped up out of bed, grabbed the bag from the closet, threw her shoes on and made sure she had enough change for the payphone. The plan was to get up to the gas station, call Kevin and tell him she was taking a bus to see him. When he moved out, he found work with a mining company in West Virginia. It wouldn’t be a long ride and she knew she could handle it. She left the sounds of disgusting sex behind her, hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder and started out into the muggy August night. She occasionally stopped to slap a mosquito or two that landed on her legs, but she wasn’t going to stop for anything else. 

The payphone came into view and she quickly pulled her change from her pocket. She dialed her brother's number with shaky hands. Her brother was safety. He would come and get her and everything would be fine. She’d beg him not to tell anyone she was there and she was sure after she told him everything that happened, he’d listen. She heard his answering machine pick up. He was probably at work. She checked her watch and noted the time before she left a message. It was vague just in case and she told him she’d call him back after he was home. She left the number of the payphone and then hung up. She sighed and looked down at her feet. She didn’t want to cry but her traitorous tears dribbled down her cheeks and she lifted her hand to quickly swat them away. Her brow furrowed when she heard what sounded like gravel being crunched beneath footsteps, but just when she went to turn, she saw stars. Bright white speckles danced in front of her vision and she felt like she was floating. There was a sensation of being moved, but that couldn’t be right. She felt like she was being pulled? No…dragged. She couldn’t open her eyes for long. There were too many spots in her vision. There was a face above her, dark hair, a piece that fell onto his forehead since he was looking down at her. Was he smiling? Her eyes closed again and she felt herself being lifted. She tried to say something but all that was coming out were soft, pain laden moans.  

She went back under again, but her body jostled with the slight acceleration and deceleration. She was in a car, but not in the trunk or even the backseat. She was strapped into the front seat with his large hand gripping her thigh. She could feel his thumb putting pressure against her skin as he swiped it back and forth. She felt exceptionally weak and her head rolled to the side as she tried to make out the direction they were going but everything seemed to be spinning.] You’re going to feel so good in a minute, baby. [His voice seemed normal, almost appealing. It made chills erupt all over her skin.] Seems like you’re already feeling good. [His chuckle was gruff and quiet.] It’s the drugs. [His hand shifted and she felt pressure against the front of her, between her thighs and she pushed at his hand as much as she could, but her arms felt so heavy. She leaned forward, as much as the seat belt would allow and her head hung. She could feel drool dripping from her lip, but no words and then silence. 

 There was some kind of commotion that started to stir her awake, but not enough to be coherent. Blue and red lights flashed at the side of her vision. Her head started to lean toward the window, she could feel the cool glass against her skin. The voices around her seemed to swirl and she only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. 

“Sorry, Officer. It’s my little sister.” It sounded like she was underwater. 

“She was drinking…I know, I know…she’s underage, but I’m taking her home.” 

“We all make mistakes, just make sure she gets plenty of water in her and hopefully she learns her lesson.” The man with a much deeper voice replied. She tried to make several sounds, she was trying to lift her arms, tears started to run down her face as the words refused to come out fully. She managed to eek out a whimpering help, but then she felt a hand on the side of her head.

“I’m trying to help, sis. It’s ok. Just breathe.” He said.

“Man, she really did a number on herself. Alright, watch your speed and get her home.” The cop said. 

“That was close, baby” His hand left the side of her and slapped down against her thigh. She could feel his fingernails as they dug into her skin, but she was starting to go out again. Her head fell forward and drool dripped down onto her thigh. 

So much time had passed or maybe it hadn’t. She didn’t know, she couldn’t tell what amount of time spanned between each moment of unconsciousness. She felt pressure everywhere. She felt it against the back of her head, her chest and even down along her lower half. But she felt like she was maybe on a boat. Her entire body felt like it was rocking and she thought that maybe she was going to be sick. She moaned as the nausea ripped through her and her eyes started to flutter open, but then the voice above her sent a wave of panic through her. “I told you I would make you feel good. You like it just like I knew you would.” She realized quickly that the motion wasn’t from the boat, but from what he was doing /to/ her. She had found some strength somewhere deep down and started to fight. Her hands shoved and her legs started to kick. She needed to get away, she needed to get him off of her. She clawed and screamed and hit every part of him she could reach, but his laugh sent chills through her. “I love it when they fight.” She cried out hoping that anyone could hear her, but the motions sped up until finally he stilled. Maybe this was all he wanted, maybe she could survive and tell them who he was, what he looked…the burn that suddenly rippled from her stomach caused an abrupt halt to her thoughts and dashed any hope that might’ve built. If she thought the first burn was too much, the second doubled it. She looked down, their bodies were still joined, but pools of blood were accumulating on her stomach. She started to shake uncontrollably. She lost count at how many times his arm swung down and pierced through her flesh, but she knew she wasn’t ever going to see Kevin again.]

~Present Day~ Portage County, Ohio

[She sat in her car staring at the trailer now owned by Kevin Mack, the victim’s older brother. This case was a lot more intense than she realized it was going to be, but she could handle it. Exiting her car, she grabbed what she needed and knocked on the door to wait to be let in. Kevin was expecting her. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, they took a seat at the dining room table and she listened to Kevin go into a guilt heavy description of what his sister had been like, what their childhood had been like and it broke her goddamn heart listening to a man who was abused as a child fault himself for his sister’s safety and then death. “When I found her journal, I knew what had happened. I just knew Denny had something to do with her disappearance. You read it. I know you read it. It makes me sick to my fucking stomach that I failed her like that.” He shook his head. His trailer was evidence that he hadn’t truly moved on. He had no wife, no girlfriend, no kids. His space was dark and not entirely unkempt, but showed signs of wear and tear that he didn’t bother to fix. She placed her hand on his arm.] It isn’t your fault. You were just a kid yourself. And what happened to her after isn’t your fault either. The person who did it is the one to blame. [He shook his head. He’d likely been told that so many times. “I turned in the journal to the detectives thinking it would help convict Denny, but it didn’t. Not on that anyway. When they found…her…there were two samples. One came from him. The other from an unknown male. No one in the system. They were trying to point the finger at me, my own sister!” She knew that had to hurt, but that it wouldn’t have made it far considering there was no commonality in the samples to show a familial connection. He sighed and took a few minutes to collect himself. “He was arrested for the sexual assault, but not the murder. But the cops stopped looking after that. But I didn’t. There were other girls, you know. Look…” He jumped up and grabbed a box of files and rushed back as he spread them out in front of her. “I showed it to the cops, they wouldn’t even bother. They said I was reading into things. That they didn’t have any reason to believe that anything was connected. But they didn’t even look at it!” She reached for the folders and started to slide them in the box.] Kevin…I promise you I’ll look at them. If there is any kind of connection, I will look at it. You have my word. [She could see tears forming in his eyes and the exhale that followed was a bit like relief. She watched him blink a few times before he nodded. “Thank you. I just ask that you look. I know it’s been a long time, but if we can catch this motherfucker…that’s…she deserves justice. And so do those other women. It’s why I came back after she died. I couldn’t leave. It didn’t feel right. If she couldn’t ever leave this fucking place, then I wasn’t going to either.” She nodded.] They do. They all do. I’ll go through all of this and get back in touch with you in a few days. 

[With the files in her car, she started back toward the hotel. If what he was saying was true, then this was a lot bigger than two girls missing around the same time. It was rare for a killer to wait so long between kills after it being such a short time between the first two, but it wasn’t impossible. She pulled up at her hotel, lugged out the box and her bag and closed Apollo…is it too much to ask for your dad to just…send a bolt of lightning to where I can find this son of a bitch? [She heard someone clear their throat beside her and she looked over to see a woman staring at her and she smiled softly.] Power of prayer. [She hit the lock on her fob and hurried toward the hotel. She’d just order dinner and have it delivered while she showered and she’d eat while she went over the files. It was going to be a long night.] 

#TDATD #TheKillerCases 

[dmraseyofficial]

D.M Rasey - Books Are Treasured Wealth Of The World

D.M Rasey says books are the most cherished and priceless of possessions. They are the treasured wealth of our world and the fit inheritance of generations and nations. D.M Rasey tells us they offer a way to understand our place in nature and their role in history, as well as an opportunity to broaden our perspective on ourselves through stories from all over the world. In other words, books are excellent tools for thinking about life.

[starry-writings]

Cycle of Gods

Prologue

The world is controlled by multiple different gods. Eight major ones and many different minor ones. All of them are part of the cycle that keeps the world running normally. Each God works together with another to keep the cycle perfectly balanced.

However, incidents do occur where one or two gods go against the cycle. On most occasions it's for the better, on rare occasions it's for the worse. Take Pompeii for example, Ruin the major God of destruction, decided to force the minor God under both him and Death to erupt Mount Vesuvius. The result was disastrous for all the gods. The cycle was disrupted for years after that, it was terribly hard for the gods to catch up with what they had lost.

A few decades after that incident, the major gods decided that it was necessary for meetings to be held to keep track of the cycle and to better prevent incidents like that from happening again. The minor gods, who serve under the major ones, were only brought into the meetings if the topic involved them, or if they had vital information they needed to pass on.

Now about the cycle itself, it begins with Origin, the major God of creation, she creates the base of everything before passing it over to either Life or Divinity. 

Life then takes the base and gives it, well she gives it life before passing it to Divinity.

Divinity takes the base or living thing and gives it beauty and special features before passing it to Philosophy.

Philosophy takes the base or living thing and gives it either a scientific explanation, or a mind of its own before passing it into a life of its own.

Down the line a living thing will encounter both Pacifism and Discord in its life, both gods working both with and against each other to “help” it.

At the end of the line a living thing would encounter Death, who will either be the cause or a factor in its demise. 

For a nonliving thing it would encounter Ruin, who will destroy it in whatever way he deems practical.

Then the entire cycle goes back to Origin and the process starts all over again.

Within the cycle the minor gods play roles as well but with there being so many, they are placed under a major God to help with a specific part of the cycle. Often minor gods are used unfairly by the major gods, being forced to use their powers in a way they don’t wish too.  

[uselesscollection]

“Sometimes I wonder who she'd be without her loyalty. It grounds her, gives her something to hold on to .. but without it? I fear she would be nothing but a lost soul running wild. A beautiful, careless murderer that needs to be taken down like a racehorse on the track.”

m.s | excerpt via uselesscollection

[kidcataldo]

The Strong Bear Prince Uriah of Terra

[tdatdroleplay]

Why He’s the Best

#CheckOut why @WorkOutTheKinks says @RaucousRomanian is the best fiancé ever! 

#Click here to read along! 👇

https://twitter.com/RaucousRomanian/status/1304790892570701830

[thewriteengle]

Tomorrow, I will be on Reading with your Kids Podcast at 10:30am - 11am 

The podcast will be available to listen to at https://readingwithyourkids.com/, on Google Podcasts, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and iHeartRadio!

[elevateenglish-blog]

Some excellent creative writing tips to improve your first person narrative! ✒📚⠀ ⠀ #gcse #gcsememes #gcse2019 #gcse2020 #gcseenglish #gcseenglishliterature #gcserevision #gcse #motivation #motivationalquotes #studygram #studymotivation #studytips #studyinspiration #revision #revisionnotes #revisiontips #revisionmotivation #writing #creativewriting #fictionalwriting⠀ https://www.instagram.com/p/B6TvD3KFSoR/?igshid=4n2ktjlv61z6

[joanneswritings]

Sirens In White

Prompt: Write about the sea, the moon, and a figure on the beach.⁣⁣

⁣⁣

He could just see the waves from his bedroom window, just barely. Darkness had descended outside but the stars were out, winking at him from far-off lands, showering him with their subdued flames. The moon was glowing; a halo of cold platinum bathed the black sea in all its heavenly fury. And yet, it was warm. His window is open in the search for that cool summer breeze, rolling in from the just visible sea, like the tide that ebbs and flows. The gentle murmurs of the waves washes over him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, promising him nothing yet everything all at once.⁣⁣

⁣⁣

There was something alluring about the sea at night. Mysteriousness arrives just when the sun begins to leave, ensnaring unsuspecting victims into its temptation. Like the tide feeling the moon’s gravitational pull, he could feel the lure of the waves; his personal sirens.⁣⁣

⁣⁣

And it seems he was not the only one tonight.⁣⁣

⁣⁣

A lone figure stood on the fringes of the sea, staring into the edge of the world as he stared at her. He did not know where she had come from, or when she had appeared, but it was a beautifully haunting scene nonetheless. Her windswept dark hair fluttered down her back and her white plain dress trembled in the breeze, silver in the moonlight. He wondered what she was doing there, all alone. He was about to call out to her when she slowly turned and eerily looked in his direction. ⁣⁣

⁣⁣

He froze in place, his mouth slightly open in his silent call, his heart thrashing in his chest. How did she know he had been watching her? He couldn’t see very well from afar, but were those tear tracks down her cheeks? Ducking behind his curtains, he took a deep breath. He had just been caught staring at a stranger, and had continued to stare after being caught. He hadn’t meant to be rude, or anything besides, but she had looked… Cold, and lonely.⁣⁣

⁣⁣

Peering around his curtains, he startled at the sight; a dark sea rolling in, the moon glaring down at him for his trespasses, and an empty beach. She is gone. She must have fled after the knowledge that someone had been watching her. He wondered if she would come back. Would he recognise her if he passed her during the day? Probably not.⁣⁣

⁣⁣

He shut his window and pulled his curtains closed, getting into bed. He stared at his curtains. He could still hear the soft whispering of the sea, lulling him to sleep, luring him into siren-filled dreams. He rolls over, turning his back to the window; a figure in white follows him into slumber. ⁣⁣

⁣⁣

It is not until the morning that he remembers it had been high tide last night - how could she have been on the beach?

[ibrown21]

Location, Location, Location- Blog 4

Hey Everyone, welcome back!

Good news, 

I’ve been making a bit of a breakthrough in my writing project. The hardest part was just getting started. I tried to decide on where I wanted the setting to take place, based on the atmosphere I wanted to create and some of the obstacles that my characters may experience just due to weather. I have never personally been anywhere further up North than North Carolina(lol) so I have no idea what time of the year it snows, in the DMV area (DC, Maryland, Virginia) versus when it doesn’t. This is where my story is going to take place. Within that research, I made a mistake in an earlier post, mentioning that the D in “DMV” stood for Detroit. -wheew, that was close-

There is another primary setting, and that is the Covenant House. 

A few main characters reside here. I had to research what term is called outside of  “Orphanage”. Then find a Covenant House within the DMV area. 

I am trying to add description where you can paint my characters based on their personalities, clothing, their descriptions and where they live. So a bit of research amongst location has for sure been essential. 

I can’t wait to share!

[donitkitt]

d 2, Jax? 💕

[velessein-blog]

ℱ𝒾𝓃𝓀 ℛ𝓎𝓈ℯ𝓁𝓁ℯ 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝓈ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ ℰ.𝒜.𝒞. ℋℯ'𝒻𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓃𝒹𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹ℯ𝓋𝒾ℴ𝓊𝓈. 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓁 ℋ𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝒸ℴ𝓁ℴ𝓇 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒩ℯℴ𝓃 ℴ𝓇𝒶𝓃ℊℯ 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓈 ℯ𝓎ℯ𝓈 𝒶𝓇ℯ ℴ𝓇𝒶𝓃ℊℯ 𝒶𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁. 𝒽ℴ𝓌ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇, 𝒽ℯ 𝓊𝓈ℯ𝓈 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒸𝓉��� 𝓉ℴ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒽𝒾𝓈 ℯ𝓎ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓁ℴ𝓇. ℋℯ 𝒾𝓈 ℯ𝓍𝓉𝓇ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝓁ℴ𝓈ℯ 𝓉ℴ ℛ𝒶𝓋ℯ𝓃. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 ℴ𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓃 𝓋ℴ𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒻ℴ𝓇 ℛ𝒶𝓋ℯ𝓃'𝓈 𝓉ℯ𝓂𝓅ℯ𝓇 ℴ𝓇 𝓋𝒾ℴ𝓁ℯ𝓃𝓉 ℴ𝓊𝓉𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓉𝓈. ℳ𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓇ℯ𝒻𝓊𝓈ℯ 𝓉ℴ 𝒷ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓈𝒾𝓂ℴ𝓁ℯ 𝓈𝒶𝓀ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓉ℴ 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒽ℯ'𝓁𝓁 𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓁 ℴ𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 𝓉ℴ. ♦️🖤♦️🖤♦️🖤 #wordsmith #writersconnection #writersociety #writerslife #writersofinstagram #writtingcommunity #writings #writersofig #writterscommunity #writer #writerslife #writer #originalfiction #fiction #creativewriting #fictionalwork #fictionalwriter #writingcommunity #writingcommunityofig #facebookwriter #wattpadnovels #wattpadbook #Wattpad #inkitt #royalroad #inkittnovel #inkittbooks https://www.instagram.com/p/B2-ajLXgs9F/?igshid=xgukoo7sm7z1

[dmraseyofficial]

D.M Rasey is a fictional Writer, who writes Amazing Fictional Stories with Great Characters. The Ornaments in his writing Skills is Very Beautiful because of that people Connects with his Stories in a Very realistic manner. Along with His Beautiful Fictional Writing Skill, D.M Rasey is a philanthropist, who donates money to Animal Shelters for Taking care of stray animals, He also provides supplies to underprivileged children.

[momlifeandlifestyle]

A - Poems to the rescue. Blog post alert! The A2Z blog challenge. A story about Vasumathi, a young woman who is in her early 30s, and her fight against depression. Direct link in bio! 📎 Short Fiction Stories about Mental Health! 26 different stories for the next 1 month! This post is a part of the a2z challenge hosted by @blogchatter Watch this space for all other 25 posts!! . . . . . . . #momlifeandlifestyle #sadvikawrites #mentalhealthblogger #mentalhealthisreal #mentalhealthadvocate #shortstorywriter #fictionalwriters #fictionstory #shortstorycollection #a2zblogchallange #a2zchallenge #a2zblogchatter #mentalhealthblog #mentalhealthrecovery #mentalhealthwarrior #writersofindia #writermom #mentalhealthwriter #writingforacause #writersofhyderabad #amwritingfiction #amwriting #writerlife #authorlife #authorcommunity #authorlifestyle #mentalhealthbloggerindia #mentalhealthmatters (at Hyderabad) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cby7iCCLGkm/?utm_medium=tumblr

[uselesscollection]

She seems a little off sometimes. Like she's captured in her own world where only she exists. Lost in her own thoughts, waiting for someone to drag her out.

m.s. | via (uselesscollection)

[kidcataldo]

If you have an Insta, consider following my account. It has all my story ideas. This one, currently titled Crossdressing Rebel, is about a young crossdresser who joins the rebellion in an effort to defeat the fowl empress. Meet the Delgado family