sometimes,
I push it too far,
find myself trying to take back words that have already stained the air between us.

But I Still Remember

when everything was perfect,
until it wasn’t.
when we were bestfriends,
until we weren’t.
when our ‘I will’s
became ‘I won’t’s
when our first fight
became our last.

I know you’ll be fine without me, you were before.
But I wish you wouldn’t,
I wish that I was more than a fleeting passion
A flame bursting into being, rather than a candle sputtering out.

You have changed me
and for that
I hate you

My life is caving in;
And I can’t tell what is unreal, anymore.

You give someone a piece of yourself,
it gets returned broken, in crumpled wrapping paper.

A Note saying:
RETURN TO SENDER
SORRY,
IT DIDN’T FIT.

Like you’re a garment they can keep in the wardrobe,
Bringing out one day and realising they never really wore.

What do you do, when you
don’t fit
Into somebody else’s master plan?

And what do you do when you
lost yourself
somewhere on the road?

 

Friday’s Fiction: Part 1.1 [Warning Explicit Language]

I walked between the oppressing mahogany doors, taking a deep breath and composing my face into a scowl. They like it better if you scowl. I aimed for the high-backed leather chair, designed to make you feel uncomfortable, trapped by it’s arms. Instead, I slid into it sideways and flung my legs nonchalantly over the armrest. These guys sure know how to do dramatic, luckily so do I.

I assumed a bored expression, inside I was starting to get anxious. Studying my nails I surreptitiously took in the shattered coffee table – the one my lovely colleague had taken home a souvenir of – and blood spatter that looked suspiciously like arterial spray. Maybe I had more to worry about than I thought. I dismissed that thought as quickly as it came, I’m their favourite operative, at least I keep telling myself that.

“Quite comfortable are we?” I jumped at the voice, I couldn’t process why it had came from behind me. “My dear girl, you are losing your touch. You didn’t scout the room as you entered.” A figure materialised at my shoulder, clearly the mystery speaker had been hiding in the recess behind the door. Reluctantly I turned to look at them.

I took in the planes and valleys of his face, my heart hammering in my chest. A stranger, a stranger that I felt I should know. He was beautiful, in a purely technical way. The slant of his cheekbones, like razorblades, and the deep green of his eyes were enchanting. Get a grip Girl! A Beautiful stranger in the Boss Man’s office can only spell trouble. I immediately tensed and stepped away, he stepped forwards.

I was trapped.

#3

He had been awake for days.

Madness was starting to creep into his bones and the night sky beckoned.

Lifting his scarred and abused body from the concrete he stumbled towards the stairwell. Falling against the door, he shoved back his hair, braided in an impenetrable rope down his back. Climbing up the stairs he walked past friends and strangers alike; some getting to know each other too well. The smell of bodies and alcohol cloaking him in a fog, muddling his mind. He needed to see the sky.

The girl was there, where he’d left her, what must have been hours before. Her blood red hair pooled around her head. A mesmerising pool. He realised she was a sign. Leaning over her, he roughly pressed his lips to hers, feeling the chapped skin and exalting in her imperfections.

“Thank you, my dear.” he whispered.

Stepping up onto the ledge, he stretched his arms out to the heavens, breathing in the night itself. He took the first step of the rest of his life.

He’d reached for the sky, and touched the stars.

Friday’s Fiction: Part 1 [Warning Explicit Language]

  Why, oh why, did today have to happen? I haven’t a clue how I’m going to explain losing the car and losing Finn. I mean, I didn’t lose Finn per say, he got his head chopped off. Nice I know, but that’s how it will look on my record – which is tarnished enough as it is. Not mentioning the boot load of £50 notes that went up in a puff of a smoke.

  Once again I’m in Hell’s waiting room. I have been ‘summoned’ to this plush, wood-panelled room to await my fate on a designer chaise lounge. Beatrice the perfectly coiffed and preened receptionist is tapping away  on a keyboard with her acrylic nails. I would love to peel them off her fingers. Stupid receptionists, they always have a full view of the room, in her case, in front of the double doors that will consume me and possibly destroy my life.

  Shouting from behind those doors catches my attention, followed by the unmistakeable sound of smashing glass. Moments later they swing open spewing forth a slight, dark haired man with a noticeably wobbly gait and splintered glass embedded in the skin under his left eye.

  ” What are you staring at girl,” he snarls in my direction. I can’t help but giggle, which causes the man’s brow to pucker in anger. He affords me one last glare and stumbles to the exit. Clearly, he didn’t get the pay rise he wanted.

  “You can go through now,” I stand, my mood lightened by the ridiculous fool that came before me. All I did was lose property and a partner; that guy asked for a pay rise, and if all they’re doing for that is smashing faces through tables, I have nothing to worry about.

#2.0

  “Left, go Left!” he shouted to the girls fleeing back. I hope she listens to me, god damn firebrand she is.
  Laboured breathing and a lopsided tread echoed up the alley behind him, they were starting to lag, good, if they could get over the walls they would at least have some extra time. The alley’s walls towered above him as he gritted his teeth for that extra push, his steps bouncing back at him so that it sounded like an entire legion was running through the streets. Glancing at his wrist he made the decision to cut through a different street, hopefully heading the girl off before she reached the walls herself. Cobbles gave way to dirt and the running became easier as he neared his goal. Where is she?
 
A flash of gold caught his attention, only one person had hair like that in the middle of the night – he had caught up to her. Calling ahead he gave her warning “Right and then left! Past the gallows,” relief flooded through him as he saw her do as he bid. Once last glance at his wrist, he powered forwards, passing under the shadow of the noose swinging in the wind. That awaits us both if we are caught. 
 
Catching up to her, he grabbed her in one smooth movement that covered her mouth and pulled down his sleeve. Her eyes were wide with terror and a flicker of white was his only warning before she sank her teeth into his palm. Sucking in a breath he spun her round and saw her visibly relax when she realised who it was.
  “I’m sorry, A girl can never be too careful” she murmured with a wink. He really did hate her sometimes.
  “Shut up and get over that damn wall.” rolling her eyes she began to climb, taking far to long to find footholds, just to infuriate him.
  He surreptitiously checked his wrist again, they needed to head due west to get to a safer destination.

  “Look your brand isn’t going to change, you don’t need to keep looking at it,” he jumped, he hadn’t realised she’d scaled the wall and was now watching him.
  “It’s not that,” he muttered. Really it was.

Friday’s Fiction: Intro [warning explicit language]

  Here we go, my serial fiction post starts here, we’ll see how long it lasts. As always you’re not under any obligation to stay, just the fact this post exists is enough for me.

  These post may be quite rough – I haven’t decided whether I’ll go with the flow or deliberately plan out what I’m going to write [this first post isn’t planned].

Enjoy, or not.

 

   Have you ever had one of those days where everything goes wrong? Today is one of those days.

  Unfortunately for me, today is also one of those days where things don’t just go wrong, they get fucked up entirely. Take my attendance for example – I manage to get to every single lecture, workshop and suicidal-thought inducing seminar and on the one laid back day where all I have to do is show my face, I miss it. My getaway car doesn’t just breakdown or run out of petrol; It explodes. My partner in crime doesn’t just take a knock to the head, he loses it.

  Clearly I’ve pissed off the powers that be, because today sucks.

 

Thought I’d keep it short and not-so-sweet for a first posting – maybe get yor brain juices flowing, let me know what you think, whether this raises any questions with you or if you think there’s anything I’ve mucked up.

– AR