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Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Writing Prompt: Deadly Plans

For creative writing we were given this assignment: select a prompt and use it as the beginning of a short story/scene. With most of these, you can decide upon 1st, 2nd, or 3rd person. Write a minimum of three pages, typed and double spaced.

The prompt I chose: Yesterday, I only checked the phone twice and hour (OR-- "Yesterday, you only checked... or "Yesterday, he only checked...")

Now onto the story! Please tell me what you think. I might add some things tomorrow.

Deadly Couple: Brutality Plan
            Yesterday you only checked the phone twice an hour. Where was she, you think and you couldn't wait to get the deed done. Whether it be by knife or strangling, I’m going to do it. Ever since she came into Nick’s life, it’s been hell. That bitch must die. Ever since Anna came into your son's life, he only paid attention to her and Anna’s mothering skills—oh my God, you thought—her mothering skills are atrocious. She never does anything right
Bzzz, you feel your cell phone vibrating against your leg. Hopefully it's her, you think, it had been two days since you heard from your wife.
"Hello," you bark into the phone.
"Listen up," you hear your wife hiss, "you need to get this job done."
A smile lightens up your heavy, sweaty face. This August had been a hot one, topping out at 110 degrees with humidity, and that excuse you call a future daughter-in-law is no help. Now you are the one that was going to take care of this problem.
"Are you listening, Darryl," she barks at you.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. We have to kill her. I'm so tired of her ruining our son's life and she's a terrible mother. She needs to get out of our lives and we need to kill her."
You nod your head, as you nod, a yellow strand of your long hair falls in front of your blue eyes.
"You make the plan. I figure it would be best to act tomorrow morning. Just take care of her!” your wife is hysterical.
"Got it," you bark again.
"Good," your wife hisses.
The sun hides behind the black clouds. The sky is a navy stained with pinks and oranges. You estimate that you have an hour to act before sunrise—before people wake up and see you. Fortunately you live in the rural part of Greenleaf, but you still can’t risk it.
A red bench, Nick used to love that bench—he would spend hours taking pictures of it or drawing and painting it—glows in the darkness. You crouch in the backseat of her maroon Honda Civic. You are barely seen in your black Alice In Chains t-shirt and dark denim pants. There’s that fat bitch now, you think as you see Anna walk out the front door.
Grrr, you hear the engine start as Anna turns the key to the ignition. It’s time to move and move quickly.
“Ahhh,” she lets out a blood curdling scream. Shit, you think and you place your hand over her mouth as you hold her neck in a chokehold.
Dropping your hand from Anna’s mouth as she bites you, but you continue to hold her in a chokehold.Look at her squirm, you think and you laugh, she wiggles just like a worm. Like a caged bird trying to escape, Anna grasps air for safety, but fails.
“Darryl, please,” she is barely audible. Anna is crying. You grunt and laugh out loud now. You place your arm tighter around her neck. Quickly the crying stops, you hear the gurgle. Taking your hands, you grip her neck—crack—you hear; a measure for good luck as you feel the life around you grind to a loud halt.

Carrying her body up the ivory rug covered stairs; you have a chainsaw in the other. The blue tile floor looks cold; it feels cold as you kneel over the bathtub that matches the tiled floor. Brrr, the chainsaw roars and like cutting down a tree, limb by limb, you place Anna in a trash bag.

The sun sets on Greenleaf. The day is done and gone. Your wife smiles as she holds her grandson. Smoke looms in the crisp Wisconsin air. The branches sparkle and pop. Her books make great fodder.Thinking she’s better than us, you muse, well, I guess not after all.

You finish and stand next to your wife. “Say goodbye to momma,” your wife says to the baby, “she’s right here.” You both laugh as the flames get taller and hotter; the air smells of flesh.

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