Saturday, May 2, 2009

Something New

I woke up this morning and felt the overwhelming need to write- this voice was pressing on my brain, threatening me with regrets if I didn't record these words. It's something different for me, not only is it more crime/mystery but it's in present tense. And told from a male perspective. This is all I have, just these words. No story, no plot, no names. Maybe it will grow into something.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I try not to focus on the body laying in front of me. It will disappear if I just give it time. I blink my eyes, hoping it will be gone when I open them. It is not. I want this nightmare to end. My eyes squeeze shut again, this time my nose and lips go numb from being clenched so tightly. Any minute now I'm going to wake up, screaming, a cold mixture of tears and sweat dripping down my face. Any minute now...

I slowly open my eyes, blinking as the whiteness of the room blinds me once again. I look at the room, the walls, the ceiling, anywhere but the face of the dead girl laying in front of me. I don't want to remember her dead. She will be remembered living- laughing and kissing me and looking at me with those clear gray eyes. Eyes that now stare lifelessly at the ceiling, blank and empty.

“Can you identify the body?” The voice is faded and fuzzy, with a hint of annoyance. I haven't been listening. It's probably the fifth time the detective asks me that question.

“Y-yes. That's Allison.” That's the girl I love. And someone has ruined her- stolen her life and destroyed her body.

“Thank you, I know this must be hard.” The detective waves a hand at the mortician and he quickly covers her up with a blanket. He slides her back into the hole, a little silver box in the wall. The morgue is filled with little silver boxes, how many dead girls lay inside? How many loved ones left behind?

“What now?” I choke out, it's very hard to speak. I swallow three times, fighting the nausea building in my stomach. I can't throw up, not here, not in the presence of my dear Allison.

“We need you to sign something saying that you have identified the body.”

I grimace at his words- I don't like it when he calls her a body, she is so much more than that. She is Allison, my Allison, and the detective refuses to acknowledge that. I swallow again before I speak. “Then what?”

He shrugs his shoulders, he doesn't care. “Then you're free to go.” He escorts me from the room, but only my body goes. My mind and my heart are still with Allison, and I don't know if I even want them back.

Free to go where? I have nothing. Allison is the only thing that matters in this world, and she is gone. And I can't follow her.

Where will I go?


  1. Wow, that's heavy. Good and heavy. Especially that last line -- total gut-slammer. Keep at this one!

  2. That's great. I love the last two paragraphs.

    I hope that it does grow into something! It is a great start.

  3. Glad you felt the urge to write! I will say this--my best work so far is when I totally changed traditional genre, voice, and POV--so change can definitely be good!