Mid-Week Blues Buster Week 12

(I know I've used this picture before, no idea where I found it....probably goggle   Anyways, click it to check out all the other entries in this weeks Mid Week Blues Buster).

Understanding

I never understood…

I never understood much when it came to people.  I always spent more time avoiding them than trying to assimilate.  I felt like it was meant for me to be alone, to be invisible.  I thought that was what I wanted.  Introspective people liked to call me.  Behind my back I had no doubt they either called me antisocial…emo…a snob or any other judgmental phrase they wanted to.  It was all about labels. 

In the end people scared me.  I always felt like they were judging me.  Looking at me with their deceptive eyes, lying saying they cared or were interested in me.  So no one was more shocked and surprised than me when I found myself falling in love.  She wasn’t the first woman to pay attention to me.  She was the first that didn’t put up with my bull and broke through every wall I put in her way.  I regret that now, I put up a lot of walls for her.  She was just different and I knew it from the moment I looked into her eyes.  The moment I talked to her on the phone the first time, there was a connection there that was indescribable.  Almost magnetic. 

I wanted to run.  I have never been so scared in my life.  Truly terrified and I think she knew it.  There were times, lapses; I think she was just being nice.  The strange guy who used to tell her she was beautiful, called her princess, or tried to surprise her by being romantic even though I had no clue how.  I would do anything to make her smile.  It warmed my heart and for a moment it gave me a purpose in life.  I never had it before, a friend who I trusted and thought was always going to be there.  No matter how big of a screw up I was.  She was always going to be there.

I’d known for two months before I said those words to her, words I had never said to any other woman in my life and knew I meant it.  I didn’t want to hear it back.  I never said it to hear it back.  For the first time I wanted someone to know how I truly felt about them.  She did say it back, there was hesitation and I think my heart stopped in that time but she did.

“Do you remember?” 

“Yes,” I smile.  I was listening to her but she is giving me that look because she thinks I was off in my own little world.  I guess in part I was…I sit here listening to her talk about him and I’m thinking about us.  She doesn’t look into my eyes like she once did and every time it seems our eyes meet for just a moment too long she looks away.  Down to the shiny new ring on her left hand and smiles.  It’s a different smile than I think she ever gave me.  I smile for her.  I can’t help it.  Her smile always made me smile, even though I know it’s not meant for me.  I know I will never touch her again.  I know I will never kiss her lips again.  Or say I love you and mean it the way I want to say it.  I smile because the one person I love most in this world is happy.

Mid Week Blues Buster 11

(I took this picture!  So I don't have to worry about giving anyone but me credit :)  But click it anyways and go check out all of the other entries in this weeks Mid Week Blues Buster!)

Dancing Flame

A mean ole bastard…

Gabriella stretched her arms out over her knees watching the dancing flames.  It had been years since she had been home, twenty six, she never thought this day would come.  She had left on bad terms with her father, but then he was not a pleasant person for anyone to be around.  She thought often about the day he caught her with Jacob in the barn.  He nearly beat the boy to death, a local football hero who would never play the game again. He got by with little more than a slap on the wrist after the local police, who he attended church with, learned of his reasons.  It was several weeks later before Gabriella could come up with enough strength of her own to leave her life in Kentucky behind.  An attempt to run away from her nightmares, at eighteen she did not realize they were always there looking back at her in the mirror.

The beating she had gotten because of Jacob was more than she could describe leaving a noticeable scar under her eye but they did not compare to the ones on her back.  It wasn’t the first time he had laid his hands on her.  At fourteen she had come home with a book about Jack the Ripper.  “Blasphemy” he yelled, “there was to be only one book allowed under his roof.”  It was weeks before she returned to school.

                                                      

She watched the flames dancing in the blackness.  She could almost see the figure of a woman one arm outstretched toward the heavens and the other wrapped around her body with a circle of flames at her feet.  She could see her face looking back at her seductively, wanting Gabriella to join her.  She knew who it was calling out to her.  She would never forget those eyes.

Gabriella had just turned nine.  Her mother had been gone almost two years for reasons she still did not understand but had come to suspect her father had murdered her.  She woke to the sound of a woman’s voice.  She still thought to this day it was her Momma trying to warn her, to help her to escape the terrifying life to come.  She thought she felt her warm loving touch on her face but it was only the summer night’s air creeping in through the window.  She sneaked from her bed, through the house but never saw her father.  Outside the house she heard the sounds coming from the garage where her father often repaired vehicles for extra cash.  Slowly she stalked with her bare feet she was only a few steps from the door when she heard his voice, “Cmon.”  Up to the door for a peak, she saw the three women immediately for the moonlight shinning in from the other door.  “You will show me the way,” her father yelled out.  They were bound together, unable to scream with her father circling them much the way she had seen her dog survey a carcass.  “You were delivered to me to show me the way to god.”

Gabriella peered through, her eyes met one of the woman’s and she began to scream even through her covered mouth.  Her father circled back, harshly grabbing her jaw before turning to see what caused a glimmer of hope in the woman’s eyes.  “Mah child,” he laughed.  He would make her watch everything he did that night, a young girl who loved and trusted her father not knowing the evil inside him.

She watched the flames.  Gabriella could no longer fight the tears as they streamed down her face.  She glanced to the bloodied knife in front of her.  She had come home to confront her father.  To right more wrongs than she could ever count.  Most of all she had come home to take revenge on what her father had turned her into. 

At twenty she found herself hitchhiking trying to escape other hard times.  A trucker had stopped to pick her up and tried to take advantage.  She saw what he wanted the moment he opened those doors, stepping inside she knew she was given a purpose in life.

(697 Words)

Mid-Week Blues Buster Week 10

So, it's been awhile :)  And I'm getting this in just before it ends for the week.   Click the picture to check out all of the other entries to this weeks Mid-Week blues Buster.

Cassidy took her friends advice, if she was going to get a true feel for Louisiana she had to spend time in the country.  She needed to get a real idea for her newest horror romance novel about a Were-Panther and his bride to be.  She knew more than most living in Atlanta, but born in the country, there was more to life than what was seen in the cities.  She wanted to see the real flavor of the Cajun atmosphere.

The young man who had told her about the ball seemed charming enough with his deep dark brown eyes.  She was quick to take notes on his odd pupils when she was back in her car, they were odd in a way she would spend a lot of time describing them in her next novel.  They were perfect for her lead. 

She had searched for the Voodoo Eclipse on the web and knew immediately it was something she wanted to experience.  Once a month on the full moon the club would host a swinging dance, costumes of many varieties and she could only imagine what would happen when the moon was high and the patrons were as well.

It was harder for her to find something to wear.  She couldn’t just stroll into the club with her hair back in a ponytail with t-shirt and jeans.  She didn’t want to stand out having seen the pictures posted on the website.  Something she couldn’t help but smile about, there was a map to the club as they made it clear most gps would only get her lost.

The thrift shop she found was a blessing, mostly for the long flowing white dress, it was a size too big and longer than she wanted.  A quick trim with scissors took care of the length and a couple well placed over sized belts fixed the rest of her look.  She was lucky, she had packed her favorite boots and though they looked out of place with most outfits but with stocking and the dress she felt happy as she peered in the mirror.

“This isn’t real…”

She felt like she had stepped into the pages of a novel, the front yard had two large full willow trees.  The club itself looked like an old plantation home, lights strung across the porch and into the yard making a walkway.  She crossed the yard and as she walked up the screaming steps the man appeared from the shadows.  She had not seen him before but he startled her as she reached the top.  He never said a word or even looked her in the eye as he opened the door.

Cassidy was just as shocked by the inside, the long stairway just inside the front door but to its left was a dance floor filled with dancers.  She couldn’t contain her amusement, mouth open there was a band across the room on a small stage jumping and dancing and having a good time.  She could barely make out the music all her senses were on fire one after another grabbed at her demanding attention.  She could smell the sweet candles as they hung high but she couldn’t identify the scents but it was not long before she again found herself starring.  The women in their sleek dresses swinging with their partners in their pressed clothing and none of them gave her even a glance as she circled about the room.  She had finally closed her mouth but forcefully held there as she could not stop biting her lower lip.  With each step she felt her heart in her throat.  It was magnificent.

He stepped into her path, leaning on his cane she slowly looked up into his eyes.  He was much taller than her, frighteningly so.  But the eyes were familiar and she knew them immediately.  Though he was much older than the boy who had told her about the club the odd pupils were distinctive.  He starred down into her and he smiled showing his enlarged canines.  She felt her heart stop in the fright of the moment, she felt as if she had stepped into another world.  

Mid-Week Blues Buster Week 4

So missing last weeks Blues Buster I knew I had to try to get this weeks in...

(don't own the picture, found on web)
(click the picture to check out all the other entries in this weeks Mid Week Blues Buster)

Revenge

                His spurs echoed as he stepped through the swinging door, he tossed his jacket to the first table inside and rested his hands on his hips.  His pistols only a quick motion away, he looked around the bar but was surprised to find it empty.  Most nights it would have been packed with men looking for liquor or sex and more often than not both.  But now, it stood empty despite the pouring rain outside.

                “He’s not here.”

                “Who?”

                She smiled stepping from the shadows bottle in hand, her Irish accent thick with each word.  “The sheriff but you knew who I was talking of.”  Of course it was her, curly blond hair pulled up but still managed to look as wild as he knew she was.  She pulled two glasses and set them to the counter and smiled her best friendly smile but he knew a lot about her.  Most of all she was anything but friendly and innocent.  “You came here to kill tonight; guns ready to blaze and paint this town red.  Can’t say I much blame you, your brothers left to hang in the center of town for the world to see stripped as the day they were born.”

                “We’ve not had the pleasure, you’re her.”  He already knew the answer but wanted it still.

                “Ah, sweetie, there is always a girl, I just happen to be the one in this tale.”  He never took his right hand from the pistol, ready to move at each sound of the creaking floorboards as he approached the bar.

                “The sheriff?”

                “For the right price I could be yours too,” she ignored his question.  He felt his heart skip but it wasn’t the notion of a night of passion with the curvy woman who was about to spill from her corset but her smile ate away at him.  Even knowing how deadly she was he found himself attracted to her smile alone.

“Stories from the beginning of time about the destruction left in a beautiful woman’s path.”  He looked into her bright green eyes trying to ignore her alluring smile.

He pulled his pistol and set it on the counter between them but she never flinched or moved away, only smiled as she leaned against the counter.  “I liked your little brother cowboy, he was sweet.”

“You got him killed,” he stated, his brown eyes glared into hers.  “You got them both killed.”

“Did no such thing,” she replied, “what went down between your brothers and the sheriff had little to do with me.  Idle hands and too much liquor got those sweet boys lives taken too soon.”  She lifted her glass up as if to toast and quickly tossed back her drink with a mischievous smile on her red lips.  “It had nothing to do with me.”

“Every week, he would spend every free dime he got on you…”

“No fault of mine.”

A crash of thunder captured his attention, turning back to the door for only a moment.  He shifted back, she had circled the counter and now he could smell the sweet perfume, sweat, and liquor.  Her finger drifted from his lips to the tip of his chin and then to his chest.  She continued to smile.  “You came lookin’ for blood I don’t think you much care whose, the sheriffs or mine.  There is an old saying ‘He who seeks vengeance should first dig two graves’.”  He felt her hand on his, she leaned in with her other hand grabbing at his shirt pulling him close.  He lost himself in the kiss, her lips tasted of strawberries and for a second he lost himself.   

A swift and sudden sharp pain in his side and he quickly pulled away.  Stumbling to the floor with another clap of thunder, he never saw the knife or knew when she removed her right hand from his.  She knelt down in front of him and he could see his blood on the knife.  “Sorry love, a girl can’t be too careful.”  He raised his own hand to see the dark red crimson just as the darkness took him.