Growing Pains
Looking at the blue sky’s from her garden Megan loved the view. The world didn’t look like such a bad place when it could fit between her thumb and forefinger.
Everything seemed to come into perspective from way up high. Not a care in the world.
The sounds of the small birds chirping in the trees brought comfort to Megan, reminding her that she was once a small innocent being, whose life look to have a bright future.
The screams from the small trailer house were nothing uncommon to her, she knew that in a few moments the door would open, her step dad would walk out the door, grab her by the arm and drag her to his even small trailer park home. But this time it was different, it was Megan’s mom who would be the one to walk out of the small trailer home.
Megan’s mother walked straight past her, this was new experience for her, and she followed her mother down the muddy path way and onto the cement sidewalk. Her mother bleeding from the mouth, limping, slowed down the pace and stopped to lean against the side wall.
The step dad, known to everyone as “Rex” came storming down the side walk shouting “What the hell do you think this is bitch? Get the hell up now!” with these words, Megan’s mother, bleeding and crying stood up, and as soon as she had gotten up, she was on the cold cement floor again. Rex had given her a right hand, or a “Pimp slap” as he used to call it.
From that day, Megan never saw her mother again, Rex had kicked her out the house and forced Megan to stay and live with him. Each day something new of hers would hurt.
Either it be a black eye, or a broken rip.
She loved the garden, a two by two meter piece of grass. To her this was her sanction, she could be anything she wanted to be. A Princess on the back of her Knights horse. A mermaid swimming under the ocean. Megan had never been in a pool before, so this was her biggest fantasy.
She would spend most of her time in the garden, as she did not attend school, due to the fact the her step dad was a lazy drunk. Many a night had she been kept awake by the sounds of a drunken Rex making love to different random women. She wondered what it was that attracted women to Rex, he was an over weight 47 year old drunk, with tattoos all over his body.
Rex would often show his tattoo’s to Megan, especially the one of the flaming skull on his forearm, he knew that she hated it when he showed it to her, but he seemed to get some kind of pleasure watching her cry silent tears as she looked at it.
One morning when Rex woke up around 9 am, he kicked at Megan’s body, but there was no movement, so he began to kick even harder. Still nothing. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his drunken eyes, he awoke to see Megan lying on the floor bleeding from the head. Dazed and confused Rex, in his half sleep, half drunk state looked around to asses the situation. Blood was splattered on the window cell and broken glass everywhere.
Coke from the night before was still on the bedside table lined up ready to be snorted.
Megan still lay in the pool of her own blood, she was seven years old.
A Word With God
Sergio was the type of guy who always had the worst luck. He was stuck in a dead end job and hated pretty much everyone that he worked with. Except her, Charlene.
Everyday at the office was the same old routine, get to the desk, take some calls, go to lunch, take even more calls and then finally go home. Everyday was a working day, even holidays and weekends.
As a young child Sergio attended church with the family every Sunday, so he was a firm believer in the Christian faith. Even now, he still attends church, even though he doesn’t live with his folks any more. More out of habit than anything. Just like smoking.
He started smoking at a young age, around 16. Many times he was caught by his parents and each time it was the same. He would wait outside the house until he was called in. He would look to the sky and say “God, I need a word.” He would explain the story to God and hope that there was something that He could do to make the situation better. God never did anything.
Sergio lived on his own in a small flat on the shadier side of the city. The flat was often burglarised, so much so that he contemplated moving many a time. The small flat was the only thing that his budget would allow though. It was funny in a sense, he was the only one that was ever robbed in that area. He just attributed this his to bad luck. Each time he was robbed he would look up to the sky and say “God, I need a word”. He would explain the situation to God, hoping that something would come of it. God never did anything.
Sergio tried many times to quit smoking. He might have succeeded too, were it not for his luck. Each time he was almost sure that he would never need another cigarette again, something bad would happen. He would pull out his orange Zippo lighter from his right pocket and his packet of Camel Lights from his left and light up.
Each couple of days he would go home, to his mother’s house. Just to see how the family was doing. Each visit was always the same. Walk in the door, have some tea and talk about how he could have been doing much better with his life if only he had tried harder to achieve academically in school. Throughout his schooling career, Sergio was simply an average student. His parents wanted him to be getting straight A’s, like his older sister, not C’s.
School had never been a good time for him. He never had any interest in what was being taught. He was more of a dreamer. He wanted to be outside talking with friends, or just relaxing. Not being taught in parrot-fashion out of a text book. Sergio was in constant trouble due to his pre-occupied mind. When he would sit outside of the headmaster’s office, he would say “God, I need a word”. He would explain the situation to God, hoping that something would come of it. Nothing ever did.
Sergio would think of all the times he had spoken to God, asking for some assistance. He worked out that on average, he would speak to God more that twice a day. Calculating in this way, he slowly began to lose his faith.
Driving to work, Sergio would always take the quickest way he could find. He always wanted to be at work on time. Driving down the quiet suburban roads, he heard a loud bang. Getting out of the car to inspect, he saw that he had a puncture. Waiting for the AA to arrive, he reached into his right pocket and pulled out his orange Zippo lighter, then reached into his left and pull out his Camels. Lighting up his smoke, he took a deep drag. Smoking always relaxed him.
An hour and eight cigarettes later, the AA arrived to tow his car and gave him a lift to work. On his arrival he was notified that his boss wanted to see him. He stood in the middle of the lobby, took a deep, weary breath and said “God, I need a word.”
His boss had let him off with a stern warning. If it ever happened again, he would be out of a job. Getting fired didn’t sound like such a bad thing just then, he despised everything about the place. The thought played through his mind almost constantly while he was at work. He had it all planned out.
He would be at work early as usual, unlock his boss’s office and take a seat on his chair. When his boss walked into his office, Sergio would offer him a seat. He would raise his hand to Kim, the secretary that she may close the office doors, so the two of them could have some privacy. He would explain how much he hated almost everyone at work and how much he despised his boss with his the high-class Armani suit. He would then spit on his boss and pull out the 9mm from under the desk and shoot the bastard in the chest. Every time he had this thought, he would smile a cold, evil smile. “Nah, I’m not a murderer” he thought, and with that he would carry on with his work.
Friday night he was invited to a party at one of the scumbags from work’s house. He decided he would go, just to see what went on at such work socials. Standing at the bar, he noticed that Charlene was looking at him.
She was everything he could ever ask for in a girl. She was smart and very beautiful. Her body was shaped like a soda-pop bottle, and her eyes were a light baby-blue colour. She was amazing. She called him over for a chat. He wished that he could go over there and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, but he knew he was hopeless at that type of thing. So he downed what was left of his brandy to steel his nerves before proceeding towards her.
The conversation couldn’t have had gone any better. They were a perfect match. They liked the same music, movies, everything. She suggested that they leave the party early, and make their way to her place. So they did.
Waking up in the morning with Charlene in his arms was the best moment of his life. He leaned over to see the time on the bedside clock. It read 7:59am. He closed his eyes then looked up at the ceiling and said “God, I need a word”. He told God how Charlene was everything he had ever wanted, and now would be the best time for Him to step in and do something. “God, please make this moment last, even if it’s only for one second.”
After talking to God, Sergio look over at the bedside clock. It read 7:58am.
David & Clare
David and Clare
A two part short story.
David
The cold water coming out of the rusty tap felt as though it was piercing David’s skin as he splashed his face to wake himself up.
“5 am is not a good time to be waking up on a winter’s day” he thought to himself.
Walking out of the bathroom he hit his toe on the corner of the skirting board, he looked at the family pictures on the wall, he hated posing for pictures, but now he would give all he had to take just one more.
Lying on the bed, David leaned over to check the time again, 5:30. “5 more minutes wont hurt” he though rubbing his red eyes. “Well good morning to you all, this is Capital Fm on 67.4 fm” his bed side radio had turned itself on. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, trying to bring the clock into focus, David realised that he had over slept. The time was now 8:00 am.
Pulling up his Diesel jeans and pulling down his Ecko shirt, David thought of the shit that he was going to be in for being late. Tying the laces to his Nike sneakers as he sat on the bus to the mall, ”Oh shit” he though, he for got to bring his report that was due in today. He tried to think of an excuse that would sound realistic. For being late and for forgetting the report. His boss was not a reasonable man, even though he was family.
Opening the doors to his boss’s office David was as silent as a church mouse. He did not speak unless he was spoken too. Exactly 24 minutes and 13 seconds later David walked out the door with his head hanging low. He was fired. It was turning out to be a shitty day.
Walking in the mall he stepped in side the music store to pick up a few new releases.
The guy at the counter was dancing to the song playing in the back round.
“Great choices here” he said to David, with his tongue out and his head bobbing to the music. “Yeah thanks” David replied. He was not one for small talk, especially after the day he was having.
Slipping the cd’s that he had just bought in to his old backpack, he bumped into a girl, and went crashing to the floor. Getting up rubbing his head, he looked at the girl and offered her a hand up. She took David’s hand and pulled herself to her feet. “Thanks” she said in a soft sweet tone, brushing her blond hair to the side.
Opening the door to his one room flat, David was greeted warmly by his cat Mr. Socks.
Mr. Socks was a black and brown cat with snow white paws, thus the name. David tossed his bag onto his bed and sank into the chair in front of the TV. Waking up a couple hours later, David placed a 2 minute TV dinner into the microwave.
Digging in his pockets he pulled out a box of B&H Special Mild cigarettes. The microwave gave a soft “ding” when his food was ready to be eaten. He ate his dinner in the same chair in front of the TV watching old re-runs of “Walker Texas Ranger”. It must have been about 3 am.
He grabbed the cigarettes of the table and climbed out the window, bumping his elbow on the window frame. “Shit man!” he shouted and proceeded to make his way to the roof.
Lying on the roof top with cigarette in hand, he remembered all the things he had done in his life, all the girl he had done. He remembered all the girls that treated him like shit and one girl that didn’t. The girl from the mall, his ex-girlfriend.
He wondered what she was up too at the moment and with that he began to fall asleep on the roof top with Clare in his thoughts.
Clare
Watching the man that had helped her to her feet walk off and become lost in the crowd, Clare rubbed her lower back and headed towards her car. “Great start to the day” she thought to herself sarcastically.
Opening the doors to her office block she was greeted buy her fellow staff members.
“Good morning Ms. Knight” they all would say, with the fakest of smiles on their faces.
She did not mind their fake attitudes towards her as she knew that she was making the top dollar in the business. At this thought, she smiled. As she walked into her office she stubbed her toe on the corner of the door frame. “Ouch, shit” she sobbed.
Sitting in her office at her big wooden table, she felt more in control than ever. She would schedule meetings and appointments to meet with clients and other big investors in the company. Clare loved watching her work come into order, and go exactly to plan, reason being, her own life was a mess.
She sat in a meeting for exactly 24 and 13 seconds about how the company could do with better advertising. The head of the company asked Clare for the report he had asked her to type up the day before. Clare reached into her brief case and pulled out files and other bits of paper. “Oh shit” silently she muttered. This was turning out to be a shitty day.
On the way home from work she stopped off at the store to pick up a few groceries for the weekend. She walked to the automatic door and stopped, the door did not open. 2 minutes after of jumping and waving about, the door finally opened, just enough for Clare to slide in. while passing through the door, it closed banging into her elbow.
The lady behind the counter was singing along to Britney Spears - I’m Slave 4 U, playing in the back round. Clare was more of a Smashing Pumpkins girl herself. The girl swiped the good and placed them in a brown bag and handed it to Clare. “Have a good night hey” the girl behind the counter said as she continued to dance to the song.
Opening the door to her house Clare was warmly greeted by her miniature Yorkshire terrier, bubbles. Bubbles was a brown and black dog, and full of energy, thus the name.
Clare placed her groceries on the kitchen counter and pulled out some lasagna for dinner.
The microwave gave a soft “ding” when the food was ready to be eaten. Clare took the food to the lounge and flopped onto her favorite couch. She picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Flicking through the channels she finally settled on Friends. “Oh lord, not re-runs” she thought to herself gloomily.
Waking up a few hours later, Clare shook her wrist, trying to get rid of the pins and needles in it. She opened the draw next to the couch and pulled out a box of Dunhill Menthols and make her way outside.
Sitting on the outside furniture, she thought of her shitty day and the shitty things that had happened to her. The guys that had happened to her. Most of the guys she had dated were complete assholes, except for one. The guy from the mall, her ex-boyfriend.
She wondered what he was doing at that moment. “Probably a sleep with his new girlfriend lying in his arms” with that though a small tear dripped from her eye and she drifted off to sleep.
